"Megatronus…brother I need you…"

Orion was loath to reach out to his brother through their bond, summoning him when his focus was upon their intended goal; he would rather that at least one of them continue on the search for Arcee. But Pax knew leaving the warehouse complex with Miko peacefully was not going to be an option, especially when an all too familiar beastly green truck rounded the corner, minutes behind Bumblebee. Both were quick to transform, weapons systems humming to life, eagerly trained upon him.

"Orion! RUN!" Miko shrieked as if she was in pain, and it was her cry that brought Orion to his peds, decided him as he turned his optics upon June. The nurse had wrapped both of her arms around Miko, trying to hold her down to shield her—shield her from him.

"GO! GET OUT OF HERE!" She screamed, she writhed, twisting in June's grasp, trying to free herself. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in Orion's spark, no whispers of betrayal here; Miko was his friend, he could trust her, and this, this wasn't the end either of them had looked for, had expected. He had known her intentions, helped her plan to send the Autobots to a different location, for neither of them had wanted to force an encounter that would only be anything but peaceful.

There was the rasp of metal, the sound of blades slithering free from their sheathes; for the moment he ignored Bumblebee, ignored Bulkhead, knew they wouldn't advance not with him so close to Miko, to June. June…A friend she had called herself, a friend who had wanted to help. This was not the caliber of help he ever wanted to accept again. He rounded upon her, and she trembled under the depth of his timber, terrible and fiercely gentle, "Let her go."

"Take another step forward and I'll blow you straight back to Cybertron!" Bulkhead snarled and his weapons hitched as he loaded them in no idle threat.

But hearing his voice was too much for Miko, "Bulk, oh Bulk no! Please no!" She fought against June, maneuvering free enough to stand, to look over the top of the car at her beloved guardian, "Bulk, please don't do this! Let him go!"

"Miko…" Relief flooded his spark to see her safe, unharmed. Orion could see his concern, his care for her lingering in his optics; he knew what pulled upon Bulkhead, knew what the Autobot was feeling. Such an understanding guided Orion forward, as he walked carefully around June's car in full range of both Autobot's weapons. He wanted to draw their attention, draw their fire.

"It does not have to be this way, "He addressed himself to Bulkhead, knowing the larger mech would listen, would heed his words because Miko was involved, "It does not have to end this way…"

"Whoever said anything about this being the end?" Bulkhead tossed the words back at Orion.

"If you do not walk away….do not let Miko and I leave here…then you will force my hand."

"Two against one, Orion, odds are in our favor." It was a bluff and both Bulkhead and Bumblebee knew it as well as they knew they didn't stand a ghost of a chance against Orion.

"Do not do this…violence is not the answer," in a show of faith, Orion folded his swords away, held out empty hands, "I can forgive you for the violence you have already shown me, I can forgive you for holding me captive…but do not let your hatred of me endanger Miko…let her leave here, let her go."

Bulkhead rattled in his frame under the stressors of anger, of frustration, of fear for Miko, "Don't you get it! This is not who you are, you're not Orion anymore! You're our Prime, and you were supposed to lead us, not tear us apart like this!"

A mournful lament of whistles and whines echoed up from Bumblebee as he called out to the black and purple mech, "Come back to us, Optimus…please remember…remember us…remember who you really are…"

But their efforts woke no sympathies in Orion, only frustration and a new rising anger against the Autobots. Why would they not see? Why would they not accept that this was who he was, that he was no Prime, would never lead them? "I—"

"MIKO! NO!"

A shrill yell tore from June's lips as Miko at last won her freedom, slipping out of June's grasp, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ran back towards the way they had come. Orion froze, caught between the desire to run after her and to take this opportunity to carry her far from the danger the Autobot's posed. But as he watched her run, he knew the moment he shifted so much as a piston in her direction, Bulkhead would snap, wouldn't hesitate to attack.

That was when the keen of a siren rose through the air, as a red and white emergency vehicle pulled into view, having worked its way behind them, cutting off their escape. Miko shrieked and fell to the ground in her haste to backtrack, but it was too late, the vehicle was headed straight toward her, had already pushed apart at its seams, splitting, rotating into something more, into someone. From where she lay on the ground, Miko pointed an accusing finger at the new comer, "Ratchet! Don't! You! Dare!"

Ratchet…

Warlord Ratchet…Leader of the Autobots…Doctor of Doom…So this, this was the destroyer of Cybertron. Decided, Orion turned his back to Bulkhead, to Bumblebee and lunged toward Miko, his every metalloid fiber yearned to snatch Miko free, away from this Ratchet. But, as he feared, the moment he shifted towards Miko, Bulkhead was pushed to act, with a roar he opened fired and his missile caught Orion squarely between the shoulders.

Hearing the cannon, the clash of artillery against exposed metal, Miko cried out as she watched the impact shove Orion to the ground, as she felt the spray of droplets of shed energon. Her breath caught in her lungs, she froze, couldn't move, couldn't think. Ratchet's hand closed around Miko then, lifting her free, and she shuddered in his grasp, sobbed that it had all come to this. She twisted, turned, stretched free one arm and reached toward Orion, called out to him. And through his pain, he heard her. Lifting his head with a groan, he strained his optics to focus, to see that Ratchet held her, held his Miko.

"No…"

"Orion!"

The gears growled in his throat, rattling with a building storm, thunder snarling, as he looked up at Ratchet, "Let her go..." He hauled himself up, willing himself forward, and before Ratchet could react Orion was there. One hand wrapping around the medic's throat, lifting him high, high off the ground, the other taking hold of the wrist that held Miko, "You will drop her." His tone was deep, brutal, commanding and the force of his words matched his strength as he then shoved Ratchet down, down against the concrete, though ever mindful, ever careful of the hand that held Miko. Keeping it suspended a safe height from the earth, Orion shook Ratchet, "Drop her!"

With a groan shaken from his strained frame, Ratchet did, let his fingers gently uncoil; let Miko slide to the ground.

"Stop, Orion! Stop! Don't hurt him!" Miko faltered, staggered away from both the struggling bots, "I'm ok…he didn't hurt me, you can't hurt him!"

But before he could turn to her, could release his hold upon Ratchet, before he could try to scoop her up and carry her away from the violence here, Bulkhead opened fire again. This time the projectile caught him upon his left shoulder, tearing open the freshly healed wound that lurked there; it did not take long for rivulets of engeron to spill forward. Orion moaned, sank to his knees, his grip on Ratchet weakening.

Consciousness became a slippery slope as Orion fought to stay online, fought against sliding into stasis, his helm dipped forward, optics dimming.

"Primus no…" Ratchet's voice rising from before him, from within him, within memories that surged as present reality became all too fleeting.

Flashes of vision, the sensation of him looking down, down through eons, down through memories, down upon Ratchet as red and blue arms—his arms— cradled the medic. The rumble of his voice as it rattled within his throat, issuing from his voice box, "Peace, old friend…peace…rest but do not depart, it is not your time to follow her path…not your time to become one with the Allspark…Primus does not call you…not yet"

There rose within him, then and now, a fear that the mech he held would not hear him, would not listen. The sour emotion sang through his energon veins as he gripped the medic, clung to him within the memory…and without.

Ratchet felt the difference in Orion's grasp, felt the anger leave the great frame that knelt before him. Keeping his movements steady, he lifted himself up from the ground, meeting no resistance from Orion.

"Ratchet…"

He would wait, would remain here as long as it took his friend to find his way back through the pain, back to those that needed him. Long had his joints stiffened, his servos locked from exhaustion before Ratchet's optics flickered, dawning as a sunrise as they onlined, "My…friend…my Prime…"

Revulsion shuddered through Orion, what was this, what memory unearthed? He fought to free himself from the anchor threads of the memory, as pain, physical pain from battle wounds brought him forward, brutally shoved him once more into the present moment. As if from a great distance he felt the support of another, felt arms reaching out, hands grasping his shoulders, their touch comforting, radiating concern.

"Optimus…Optimus!" Over and over, Ratchet called to black and purple mech, not daring to jar him with any violent movement, not wanting to trigger an inadvertent attack. Despite such fears, Ratchet remained, resolutely clinging to him, feeling Orion's energon wash over his hands as he held him. "Optimus…hear me….Optimus!"

But Orion's focus was still turned inwards, as a growing certainty filled him: that memory was real, was true…was his. That had been his arms that had encircled Ratchet, he had kept the medic from giving in, from being offlined, it had been his voice that had called to the red and white mech. A shiver of familiarity seeped through him, saturated through to his every joint, ever metalloid fiber, every drop of energon, every servo as a sea of memories clicked into place.

"Optimus."

There was still so much missing, so much lost…but it was enough, enough for him to piece the largest truth together…

"Optimus…"

Ratchet drew in a rattling breath as he watched, watched as the black tinted helm snapped up, optics bright and burning blue as they locked with Ratchet's…as he responded to the name.

Ratchet's spark clenched in sorrow, in pain, in joy, in relief as the other returned his gaze, just looking on, remembering, "My Prime…" Ratchet whispered, "My friend…"

"Ratchet…?" His voice sounded bruised, thick and yet as gentle as folds of deep velvet spilling forth. Ratchet trembled to hear it, to listen to that painfully familiar cadence. A tumble of words, a litany of emotions poured forth from Ratchet then as he pleaded for forgiveness for all that he had done, for beguiling him, for resorting to such deception, asking that he understand, that he not hold it against him.

Orion heard none of it.

He tilted his black helm, audio finials buzzing. He knew Ratchet was speaking to him, could feel the vibrations of his voice…but a deep, throaty roar was drowning out the Autobot's words, washing them away. As if stunned, confused, he looked up as the klaxon call of a unearthly jet engine drew near, closer and closer, till it drew clear of the building, filling his view.

Orion, my brother!

The moment of recognition, of remembrance was shattered, all splintered into fragments beyond recognition as Megatron's voice reached Orion, filled his processor with its urgency.

"Megatronus…"

"No…oh Primus no…" Ratchet found what had drawn Orion's attention.

There were cries from Bulkhead, alarmed shrieks of sound from Bumblebee as Megatron in all his brutal glory appeared. His transformation was quick and clean as he dove forward, plasma cannon humming to life, driving both Autobots back, away from where Orion and Ratchet knelt.

"Finish him, my brother!" Megatron roared as he fired at Bulkhead, "Destroy the Warlord Ratchet! I will take care of his Autobot brethren!"

"Megatronus." Orion attempted to rise to his peds, to turn, to go to his brother's aid, but he was jerked roughly as he realized that someone held him, was keeping him from Megatronus.

"Optimus, no! You cannot! We must fall back! Optimus!" Ratchet rose with Orion, refusing to let go, to give up.

But Megatron was there, driving Bulkhead back, back, taking Bumblebee down with a blow to the chassis, all the while calling out to Orion, his cries encouraging, commanding, "You must do it, Orion! Hold him accountable for what he has done! For Cybertron! For our people!"

Ratchet reached forward, locking onto Orion's chassis, trying desperately now to turn him away from Megatron, away from the sight of Bulkhead and Bumblebee as they struggled valiantly. "Optimus…"

Autobots

Decepticons

That same drowning sensation loomed over him, pulled him. The memory nipped at him, refusing to let him forget, to deny the truth of what he was. But it crashed against the overwhelming presence that was Megatronus.

"Orion!"

"Optimus!"

Over it all, the black and purple mech heard it, the frightened cry of a young human girl, an innocent life…his friend, "Miko…"

Again he tried to pull away, to search for her, to find her, to protect her; she needed him, out in this chaos he needed to defend her. But Ratchet held firm, would not let him go as the medic realized who he was searching for. "Leave her be! She'll be safe with us—"

The words were spoken too roughly, too grating, and at last, Orion snapped under the strain. He rounded upon Ratchet, one hand lifting, grasping, locking around the medic's throat, holding firm. Not with an archivist's effort, but rather with the strength, the ability of a Prime. As he hung suspended, Ratchet did not let his gaze waiver, would not look away, certainly filling him that a Prime held him. As if from a great distance, Ratchet heard the metallic rasp and ring as one of Optimus' deadly blades, slid from its sheath.

June screamed as she ran toward them, Miko beside her as they watched, watched in horror as the black and purple arm drove forward, buried the sword up to the hilt within Ratchet's side. Beads of bright blue energon bubbled up, and Ratchet shuddered, his hands flying to Orion's wrist, clamping down. There was pain, yes, but…even as his systems resounded with warning alarms, Ratchet took a moment, assessed the damage. It hurt, yes, burning and searing, the wound was clean, deep…but why…why was there not more pain? Why was there so little energon?

Megatron laughed, cried out triumphantly, "And so falls the destroyer of Cybertron!"

Ratchet shook his helm, refusing to believe, "Optimus…oh Optimus…why? My Prime…"

"No, not your Prime, Ratchet!" Megatron's voice assailed him. "Mine…" His voice became silky, tender, "Mine…my brother…" This, this moment is what he had yearned for, had dreamed of for so many, many eons, "My Prime!" His tone built to a crescendo, swelled with notes of triumph once more, "Rise, Nemesis Prime! Rise and let us finish this! Let us destroy our enemies!" With enthusiasm and confidence, Megatron turned away then, turned to where Bulkhead and Bumblebee willed themselves to stand, to face their end, "Enough, my Autobot friends," He addressed them, "Your time here is over…come, let me assist you, let me help you answer Primus' call!"

As the Decepticon Lord advanced, Bumblebee reached out to Bulkhead, catching his friend's forearm with a plaintive whistle. Aghast, Bulkhead risked a glance to his companion, disbelief written upon his features, "Retreat?! What do you mean retreat!" Bulkhead watched Megatron draw nearer, lift his plasma cannon, "You're no coward Bee, and neither am I! If this is our end, then let us make it one to remember—"

"There are other lives we are responsible for…"

"Bumblebee, stop!—"

"Arcee…Jack…Raf…June…Fowler…Miko"

Decided, Bulkhead leveled his own cannon, fired a blinding shot directly at Megatron's head, "For Ratchet!"

"Ratchet…oh Ratchet!" Miko and June ran on and on, past Megatron, still so far, unable to look away, unable to help.

Stunned, Ratchet tipped his head back, resting it against the building that Orion held him against, "My friend…Optimus, why…?"

Coolly, Orion looked away, looked to where Megatron lunged toward Bulkhead and Bumblebee; he stood unmoving, transfixed, as if waiting, waiting for his Decepticon brother to drive the Autobots back, back out of view. Even as Megatron chased them away, around another building, at last out of sight, Orion turned once more to Ratchet, his optics finding the medic's turquoise gaze. His grip around Ratchet's throat relaxed, released as he gently lowered the medic until his white peds could touch the ground again. That same hand which moments ago sought to crush Ratchet's throat now lifted, sliding around to cradle Ratchet's head, tilted it forward till the red and white helm touched a black and purple helm.

"Ratchet…"A voice, world weary, full of caverns and midnight called to the medic, so that only he could hear, "Primus does not call to you…not yet…" Unbelieving, Ratchet listened, listened to the plea, heard it spoken now, in that moment, even as the same words echoed in his memory banks, "Primus does not call to you…not yet…"

It was then that Miko and June at last closed the distance between them, and trembling they clung to one another as they watched, watched Orion lower Ratchet to the ground, watched him draw his sword free, dripping precious drops of energon.

"Come, Miko." Before she could move, could protest, he had sheathed his blade, tucked it safely back into his wrist even as he moved toward her, scooping her up, taking her away from June. From one step into the next he folded easily away into the frame of the black and purple semi-truck, moving panels and plates around Miko, keeping her safe, settling her in his driver's seat, before he drove away.

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Please R&R!