Throughout all of the commotion, as the conversation had grown more and more heated, Miko had taken the opportunity to slip away from the group, turning down the first darkened corridor that she could reach. No one had noticed, and Miko was more than happy to have been unremarked in her departure. The heated clamor of voices grew thin and hollow as they receded, becoming muffled by twists and turns in the thick concrete tunnel Miko had chosen to disappear into. It did not take long for the sound of the group's conversation to fall away completely as the sturdy hallway swallowed her comfortably in silence. For as exuberant and boisterous as everyone knew her to be, Miko was content in the quiet as well, welcomed it even, though she so rarely showed it. Now, more than ever she wanted time, time to let herself think. It was no use talking this sort of thing out, certainly not with the group, not even with Bulkhead. No one heard her when she spoke anyways; it was only ever Miko the troublemaker, Miko the rebel, never Miko the thinker.

Oh how she wanted things to go back to normal! Bulkhead hadn't been the same since they had lost Optimus. Whenever he was with her, Bulkhead was edgy and tense, and hadn't displayed any interest in their usual activities. No matter what Miko tried she couldn't get him to play video games with her, to go to a monster truck rally—or even watch one on TV—she couldn't even convince him to watch any of their favorite monster movies. Rather his entire focus had been upon keeping her indoors where he could keep a watchful eye on her, where she was safe. But this wasn't the only reason she yearned for things to return to the way they were. She too wanted Optimus back, wanted to have that guiding presence in the base, amongst them again. Like Jack, she too had always looked to the Prime for not just leadership, but the calm that always helped all of them weather the storm. Optimus was the one who always had answers, always knew what to do, and could always fix any problem. And if there ever was a problem now, it was this one…only now there was no Optimus around to fix it, just this Orion.

Dully the bottom of her tennis shoe scrapped against the worn concrete floors. Her sulky shuffle slowed before coming to a pensive halt as her downcast gaze registered the deep grooves and gouges that indented the normally durable surface. She crouched down, running her fingertips along the knot work of scratches, some several inches deep; a nonsensical linear Braille that could have only been fashioned by the steps of alien titanic beings. She liked the ragged texture, cool and calming against her palm.

That was when she noticed the door. It quietly lurked in a heavily shadowed corner just off to her right. Normally she would have missed it altogether, but having lingered just off to the side of this rarely used hallway put her in the direct line of sight. Her curiosity roared to the front of her consciousness, and she sprang up, all alert enthusiasm. With each step bringing her nearer and nearer she became all the more certain that this was no mere storage bay. No, the door that shielded whatever lay behind it was far too thick and intimidating to just hide dusty crates of supplies. Of course, this meant that Miko had to find out what really was behind this mystery door. Right now.

As she approached, wary of the faintly illuminated consul that glimmered beside the door, Miko almost worried she wouldn't be able to by-pass the obvious locks. Almost. Despite the fact that the control panel was several feet above her decidedly very short, very human stature, there was nothing that would inhibit her aim. With a discerning look and a grunt Miko tossed the only projectile she had on her—her cell phone—at the largest key, one that she figured would be most likely to trigger the opening mechanism. She was quick to find that such wasn't the case, though luck had not altogether abandoned her, for after a handful of more throws, this time at less carefully selected targets as she aimed for other keys at random, she was rewarded with a soft melodic beep. With a sigh an inner lock released and the door slid wordlessly open.

Darkness yawned before her; though never daunted, Miko hastened forward into the unknown, only mildly disappointed to find that the chamber beyond seemed to be largely empty. But not entirely. There, against the far wall and on a wide metal slab lay an all too familiar figure. Even in the dim, almost non-existent light Miko couldn't mistake that deep blue and fiery red color.

Optimus Prime lay unmoving before her.

Like a mouse who has strayed before a hungry cat, Miko froze preparing to bolt, "Um…hi…"

Not a whisper of movement from his stately servos.

Growing bolder Miko inched forward, stopping less than a handful of steps away.

Nothing. No movement.

"Hi?"

Silence.

"Boss bot?"

His optics were darkened in the throes of a deep stasis, whether it was self induced or one Ratchet had deliberately put Optimus in Miko had no way of knowing; at least not without a closer look. Timid, careful steps, one by one she inched closer to the unmoving titan. It wasn't long before she found herself directly beside his still frame.

"Optimus?"

Not a whisper of movement.

An ache rose within her then, sudden and startling in its ferocity. Optimus had always answered, always. He had always made time for each of them, even though she had never had the same kind of bond that Jack and Optimus had seemed to share, at least she had always known he was there. When things went south, when Decepticons threatened, they had always had their Boss Bot. Miko found herself blinking back tears that bit at the back of her eyes, threatening to fall. It was all so very strange, so very frustrating, and so very unfair. It made her want to climb up and pound on that metal countenance, demand that when woke up he would be Optimus again. She needed him to get up, walk into the other room and solve everything, and to stop all the other bots bickering at each other.

What she wanted most was for everything to be normal again—or rather what passed for normal for the bots. She didn't need, didn't want this Orion.

Less cautious now, she inched forward, struggling to understand how he could not be himself. Deep, raw anger rose within her as Miko's gaze fell upon the Decepticon symbol that had been engraved upon his shoulder, precisely where the Autobot shield should have been. This was Megatron's fault, of that she was sure as she reached forward, traced the cool lines of the Decepticon logo with her fingertips. Miko's lip trembled as she took in the bold lines of that symbol.

It was just one more thing that was so very wrong in this entire situation.

As she mused on it, wishing for answers, her touch elected his attention. From the depths of stasis his consciousness rose; even as her fingers continued to trace the Decepticon shield over and over as she puzzled over those harsh and hard angles, his servos hummed to life and he stirred, his optics flickered as they came online. Before she could react, his necked shifted, his great countenance turning to face her, his cerulean optics settling upon her slight form.

Miko froze, fingertips seemingly stuck to the foremost point of the Decepticon symbol as she looked up, up at him. The air was knocked from her lungs, her mind raced as she rattled out the first thing that popped into her mind and tripped off of the tip of her tongue, "I…I'm not going to hurt you…"

She felt ridiculous the moment the last word left her mouth—as if she, a tiny human could ever be a threat to him!—but yet it had seemed like the right thing to say.

"Nor I you, child of Earth…" So close, she felt rather than heard the deep rumble of his voice. It hit her then, her words had set him at ease, had somehow soothed him. Once more tears pushed at the back of her eyes; that voice, that face, everything was so Optimus. Yet it was maddening because when those optics looked back at her, it was with no real recognition.

"So…"She didn't shy away from him, continued to let her fingertips trace the Decepticon symbol, "You're a Decepticon now…"

"You speak with great sorrow…with pain…"

"Yeah well it isn't easy watching you betray us and become buddy buddy with the big bad 'Con himself."

"You speak of Megatronus—"

"Megatron…Like Doc Bot was telling you earlier, there is no more Megatronus, only Megatron."

The silence that followed her statement was the silence of a slumbering mountain—no, perhaps not slumbering, but a mountain considering, weighing, judging, calculating. Of course he was no mountain of slow moving and humble stone; no he was a mountain, a leviathan of living metal. There came a low growl, a rumbling of servos and gears as he slowly pushed himself up, pulling away from Miko whose courage faltered as he towered above her. Sitting upright on the thick metal slab, now put Miko at the same level as his peds and she swallowed thickly as her gaze darted toward his ankle. All it would take was one errant step, one stray movement and he could crush her.

"You said that I betrayed you…that I betrayed 'us'…who is 'us'?"

Pulling her gaze back up to his countenance, Miko took a long moment to find her voice again, "Us…" she repeated, "The Autobots."

"But you are no Autobot." His words were mild, gentle, without the snap or bite of accusation. Rather his tone retained the lightness, the quietness of curiosity, of a genuine quest for understanding. That difference in tone was the only thing that kept Miko's formidable temper from rising up to challenge him.

"No, being a human and all…well, fleshy, means that I can't be Cybertronian. So you're right, I may not have energon and I may not be made of metal, but I'm just as much of an Autobot as Bulkhead, or Bumblebee, or Ratchet or as Arcee." Miko stepped forward, holding his gaze, determined, "I'm just as much of an Autobot as you were."

Her words hit their mark, and like a well aimed blow she could register their impact slicing straight through his spark, cutting down to it as easily as a well honed blade.

Autobot.

Decepticon.

Both sides pulled at him, dragging him down, down, down. For both factions seemed to be equally as confident that he belonged to them.

Megatronus' deep voice rolled through his memory banks like thunder, "Another craven Autobot scare tactic. The name was meant to demonize us; instead we wear it as a badge of honor. For if speaking the truth is deception then we are gladly guilty."

Autobot

Decepticon

Battle lines that had been drawn in energon.

Two phantoms that in this war would not die.

Each side took such pride in being either Autobot or Decepticon, and yet he felt trapped, hemmed in. He did not have that unwavering, that unshakable faith and belief in either faction. Unseeing, he lifted his right hand, letting it come to rest upon the Decepticon insignia that had been engraved into his left shoulder, let his digits trace those hard lines as Miko's had moments before. Megatronus insisted that he was a Decepticon and that he belonged with him, at his side as friends, as brothers. And yet…and yet when he looked upon the Autobots, upon their human companions his spark ached with familiarity, with an undeniably certainty that he belonged with them.

Autobots…

…Ratchet…Arcee…Bumblebee…Bulkhead…Miko...Jack...Raf...

Decepticons…

…Megatronus…Knockout…Breakdown…Soundwave…

What was he?

"Hey…" The concern and the nearness of Miko's voice drew him out of his conflicting thoughts as they crashed against each other. Somewhat startled he looked back down at her to find that she had somehow managed to clamber up to the same metal slab that he reclined on. Now she lingered just beside his knee, her hand hovering by his knee plate, dancing inches away from the smooth metal without making actual contact.

She had read the tempest of thoughts in his tense stance, had discerned his distress in his gaze.

"Miko." Her name rolled forth from him as if with great effort; he used it as an anchor, "Your name is Miko."

Encouraging she nodded, longing to assert that he, he was Optimus Prime, that he was the Autobot Leader, that he was their reservoir of strength, of courage. Instead, she kept her silence, realizing that from the moment he had sacrificed himself to save them from Unicron, the moment he had lost his memory, everyone had been determined to tell him who and what he was. No one had let him decide, no one had given him the time, the opportunity to choose for himself.

Autobot

Decepticon.

"Miko…"he now looked to her for answers, for guidance, "Who am I? What am I?"

Autobot…Decepticon…

Miko swallowed thickly considering her next words, her next actions carefully. Deciding, she kept her movements slow, measured, deliberate; she stepped forward, placing both her hands atop his knee to balance herself as she pulled herself up and with as much confidence she settled herself, sitting down atop his leg.

"We know you as Optimus…as an Autobot…" She shrugged, "Megatron knows you as Orion…as a Decepticon…" She looked up at him, "What…who do you feel like?"

Sadness gripped his spark as uncertainty filled him, "I…I do not know…" Fragments of memory pulled at him, demanding acknowledgement as he struggled to understand, "Megatronus insists that I am Orion, and I do believe him. Yet, my spark tells me that something is missing from his words, as if he is not being entirely forthright..."he considered the small being that sat upon his knee, calm and confident and not at all like the threatening human creatures of malcontent that Megatronus had described to him, "And yet you are certain that I am an Autobot, that I am Optimus Prime..."He shook his head slowly, "But in my spark I know that I am no Prime, I am a mere humble mech, not worthy of such a mantle..."

Again, Miko considered before motioning for him to pick her up; this he did timidly, as if afraid of touching her, of hurting her. Long accustomed to Bulkhead picking her up, Miko was quick to find her balance as she stood in his palm. Again she motioned for him to draw her closer to him, once he obliged, not understanding her actions, her reasoning, he watched as she walked without fear to the very edge of his hand. Leaning forward she pressed a palm against his chest, over the very panel that protected his spark.

"Orion...Let me tell you of the bot we remember you as…and let me tell you about Optimus Prime..."

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Please R&R!