Atonement

Chapter 15—What I came to deserve

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.

The door to Hot Rod's office wasn't open. It usually was, as part of the Primes' mutual open door policy. Looked like Hot Rod wasn't feeling diplomatic, Optimus mused, coming the other mech to let him in. He entered as the door slid open.

"When were you going to tell me they were here?" Hot Rod asked, not missing a beat, or looking up from the data pad he had in his hands.

"Galvatron and Starscream were here to visit the med bay," Optimus said. "Galvatron and I also discussed matters on Cybertron, if you want to hear about it."

"Can't I read it in a report?" Hot Rod asked, hopeful, setting down his data pad.

"No," Optimus said. "Galvatron and Starscream have been spending time together because they're courting, and Starscream is already sparked."

"I can already guess how this is going to play out," Hot Rod said, bitterness in his voice. "You can bet there will be bots out there saying he's produced an heir to carry on the Decepticon cause."

"They're entitled to their opinion, but it's hardly the truth," Optimus said, taking a seat. "I think it's a true match, Hot Rod. Galvatron and Starscream both know what is at stake if they step out of line."

"What, incarceration on Garrus-9?" Hot Rod asked.

"No," Optimus said. "Hot Rod, let it go for now."

"Why should I?"

"It's not your concern," Optimus snapped.

"It is because I thought I was supposed to be co-leader," Hot Rod said.

"You are, but what happens if Galvatron goes back on his oath is on me," Optimus said. "Why must every discussion we have come back to this?"

"I'm just afraid everything we've fought for will fall apart," Hot Rod said.

"Hot Rod, the peace we've brokered was hard-earned and not as fragile as it seems," Optimus said. "We still have much work to do, but don't let it burden your spark. You're not alone."

Hot Rod sighed. "I know, but I don't want to let you down," he said.

"You haven't, and you won't," Optimus said. "Come. Let's get out of here. I think we've worked enough for one day."

88888

The best part of Optimus Prime's day was the drive with Hot Rod, and watching the sunset at Lookout Mountain. It was becoming a habit, and a good one. The older Prime's current emotional state wasn't what he'd categorize as positive.

As soon has he'd gone back to his quarters for the night, he hit the high grade. Getting overcharged quietly and alone was his way of coping with his former nemesis' impending fatherhood. Optimus didn't begrudge Galvatron happiness, but in the back of his mind, he wondered what was just and right in a universe that granted someone like Galvatron what he'd wanted for himself. Maybe it was a way of teaching his Lord High Protector about what truly mattered.

Optimus told himself he wasn't jealous, and he wasn't that petty. The universe just wasn't fair, and Primus, he was wallowing in self-pity. He didn't often indulge, and Ratchet was always telling him he shouldn't keep his feelings bottled up, and he wasn't. He was expressing his feelings, alone, with high grade. No one needed to witness one of their Primes having a break down. And now Ratchet was comming him, and he ignored the medic's pings, laying his head down on his desk, letting the tears fall.

88888

Ratchet was on night shift, sitting in his office, going over the latest medical journals from Cybertron, trying to catch up. At the same time, he was keeping an optic on Prowl, who was finishing feeding his daughter. The medic allowed himself a smile at the serene look on Prowl's face as he held the sparkling before going back to the article he was reading.

He'd been trying to keep tabs on Optimus all evening, guessing what was coming, considering the day's events and the way his Prime took off with Hot Rod that afternoon. Ratchet knew when Optimus was trying to distract himself, and what usually came after. Of the two current Primes, Optimus was not usually the runner. He faced most everything head on, but Ratchet suspected Optimus was holed up in his quarters, alone. He just wanted to make sure he was all right, and if he needed anything, but the slagger was ignoring him.

Exventing, the medic stood, stepping out of his office.

"Prowl, I'll be back in a few minutes," Ratchet said. "You should go get some recharge. In your quarters. Echo and Springer are fine, and I doubt Springer would care if you left to get some rest."

"I'll stay until you get back," Prowl said.

"All right," Ratchet said, heading for the door.

His walk to Optimus' quarters was short, and of course, the fragger had the door locked, and wouldn't answer him, so he used his command code to override the lock. And the scene greeting him wasn't a surprise—empty high grade containers, and Optimus hunched over his desk, head resting on his arms, shoulders heaving as he sobbed quietly.

Ratchet walked over, placing a hand on his leader's shoulder, shaking gently. Optimus said nothing, instead, moving to wrap his arms around the medic, sinking to the ground.

"It's all right," Ratchet said without any gruffness. "You know you don't have to handle these things alone, Optimus."

A hitch in the other mech's vents was the only answer Ratchet received.

"C'mon. Help me get you over to you berth. I'll be more comfortable than the floor," Ratchet said. "I can stay for a while, if you like, or I can call Hot Rod."

"No," Optimus said. "He doesn't need to see me like this."

"You've seen him like this," Ratchet quipped.

"That's different," Optimus muttered as Ratchet half-dragged him to his berth.

"I don't see how," Ratchet said.

Optimus didn't answer, trying to make himself comfortable in the berth, laying his head in Ratchet's lap.