Change
Optronix onlined from recharge but didn't move, aside from powering up his optics. His gaze roamed its regular circles on the ceiling, recognizing each tiny dent, scratch and mar on the smooth, silver-white metal… before the usual routine was broken because of a strong, painful throb from his spark. He tried to recall what happened yesterorn to be the cause of the new pain. With a strong shudder, he remembered Megatron as the warlord yanked him by his limp servo, saying something angry and disdainful. But after that… only disjointed images of Hook, Megatron, pain and for some reason energon came up from his memory banks.
His spark twanged like it was missing something… something that should be important, but he just couldn't remember what it was. A servo rose and he hesitantly touched his chest, trying to remember something. There was pain but it was different from the usual one, caused by the hard and uncaring interfaces that Megatron forced on his frame. It centered in his spark and Optronix sobbed once, mourning something that he wasn't even aware of. For a few kliks he thought that it was the closed-off bond – but that was different too.
He turned his helm slightly to cast an uninterested look around the room and he froze suddenly as his glance fell on the doorway leading to the sitting room. He saw these rooms so many times that he could pick up every mote that changed place – and now there was a huge frame sitting in one of the armchairs, just by the door, doing nothing, not even moving. A huge, silvery frame that he came to know and fear. Megatron.
What was the warlord doing there, Optronix had no idea. He never before lingered even for kliks after he finished in the smaller mech and came down from his overload, much less stayed till the day cycle and it put a plethora of new fears into the young mech's processor, awakening him from the disinterested stupor. What new torment had he made up, what could the silver mech still rob him of? Optronix was sure that he had nothing left, neither material goods, nor any emotions or feelings beside pain and terror. Still, he learned not to expect anything in the least positive from him.
He whimpered quietly and scooted backwards, towards the wall, to try and hide – but there was no place to hide, not even the false security of a thermal blanket on the berth to cover his poor, battered frame with it. His spark throbbed again strongly, painfully, fully waking him up from the lethargy. What was going on? The shaking got stronger as Megatron didn't move, just stared at him unnervingly. The glare wasn't angry or malicious, it wasn't enraged or disdaining – it was blank almost, like the mech wasn't quite there, lost in his own thoughts.
By the time the life returned to Megatron's stare and the mech stood up to cross the threshold into the berthroom, Optonix was wracked by nervous tremors. But when the huge, silvery frame stopped by the berth, he didn't make a move to heave himself over his trembling one, like he always did, didn't come close enough even to touch him. He held out a servo and offered Optronix a cube of energon almost gently and it confused the Pit out of the smaller mech.
He stared up to him with wide optics, one servo instinctly coming up to his aching spark again, in a subconscious motion of defending it. Had he had some more space, he would have backed off even more, but the wall stopped him. But Megatron didn't come closer, didn't make any move other than holding out the cube, apparently fully prepared to keep it there before he took it. Optronix thought he knew by this time how Megatron worked but this was completely new. Almost like… like he was contrite. No, that couldn't be it, he thought. Megatron, feeling remorse? Impossible.
But when the warlord spoke it too was unexpected. He spoke so little to him, discouraging, often outright stopping him when he tried to talk with him before. Even for a mech of few words, he was silent with him and whenever Optronix tried to ask or tell something he got angry, resentful, growling about despicable, backstabbing blabbermouths. The young Iaconian was fairly sure that this attitude stemmed from his Sire's manipulations that Megatron never hid as being extremely revolting him. But this time he initiated the discourse, such as it was…
"I won't touch you until you are again comfortable with it." – Megatron stated in a voice intended to be soft, but only managing to be less grumpy than usual, especially at the second part. – "No need to be afraid of me."
Megatron still couldn't quite shed the ingrained reflex to consider showing fear a weakness and disdaining it. Once he had thought it over, he could understand Optronix showing it – he wasn't raised as Kaonites were, he wasn't trained to hide it, he was still too young and he had plenty of reasons to feel it around Megatron. Unfortunately understanding hasn't made it easier to accept it too. So far in his life there was no reason to consider that other ways of functioning could be just as valid as his own. The Kaonite way was successful, effective and good enough for him, for his people and he could conquer other city-states who were weaker.
Therefore it was quite hard for the warlord to force himself to accept that his mate should be so different, so weak and cowardly. Well, not exactly cowardly, he conceded, as Optronix was after all brave enough to accept the bonding with him and come to Kaon, to live in their way. That should count for something, he thought, and with some coaching he could be molded to a bit more… hardy. And if the youngster did that, he could in return try to be a bit warmer, more accepting towards him.
Yes, Megatron thought, that could work. He'd make an effort to conform a bit to the Iaconian's expectations and later he'd see what he could do to make a warrior out of him. But even decided as he was, he couldn't quite keep the contempt out of his voice and expression, much as he tried to. He wasn't used to modulate his vice to be calming or friendly, because there was never a need to do so and it showed. He could do nothing about looking like a warrior, bigger, stronger and… well, intimidating either.
The slight wince from Optronix showed that he understood the tone of voice perfectly – the younger mech became quite adept at reading his moods that admittedly ranged only from bad to worse as far as he knew. But his trembling lessened by a minuscule amount and he moved cautiously forward to pick the proffered cube hesitantly from his servos. Timidly glancing up to him, Optronix nodded slightly to show his thanks – not yet trusting his voice to be steady enough.
He sipped from the cube and his optics widened – it was neither the ornly mid-grade, the kind he was invariably given so far, nor one of the more powerful high-grades, but a sweetened variety of energon, usually given to sparklings and younglings. It was purported to have calming properties, besides signifying affection and Optronix hadn't even seen such a cube for vorns, much less tasted one. Even his Sire frowned upon such an indulgence from his almost-adult creations and he never expected Megatron to know of it, much less to give him one. If it wasn't symbolic, then he totally misjudged the situation.
Megatron withdrew once the cube was picked up hesitantly from his servo, not wanting to crowd the visibly frightened smaller mech needlessly. The peace-offering was accepted and he took that as a good sign to begin with. He was glad that Optronix was more responsive than lately, and he guessed the sparkling was the main reason for it. He sat into an armchair that he placed just by the door, far enough so his mate wouldn't feel threatened but close enough so they could talk. During the time Optronix was offline, he had time to think, to decide how he was going to do it. Slowly and step by step, because if he botched it he'd get no other chance.
"Optronix…" – he paused, still not sure of how to express it, despite of the preparation, but plunging on anyway – "I wronged you by behaving like I did. I… I am sorry." – it felt unnatural to apologise and he almost fouled it up with a scowl, but stopped the grimace before it could show. The apology was, as he felt instinctly, the right thing to do, something he must say aloud, no matter how it galled him. – "I wish to make up for it to you, set things right, and maybe in time have a… a normal relationship. If we still can."
He stopped, only then daring to look at Optronix, who froze at the first sound of his statement. The smaller mech stared at him with a frozen, incredulous disbelief, like he wasn't sure if his audials or processors were working perfectly and he was truly hearing what he thought to hear. Megatron supposed that it must have been a tremendous shock to see him change completely and suddenly and he didn't blame Optronix not to believe it at once. But at least it made him listen and not withdraw into himself.
"Wha… why now?" – he asked in a suspicious and still very much afraid, small voice. – "Y-you never cared before…"
"It was wrong." – Soundwave advised him not to mention the terminated sparkling so soon, so he tried to avoid the issue. – "I suppose I didn't care because of your Sire. I'm sure you gathered this much."
"Yes… yes, I know that you hated my Sire." – Optronix was a bit less afraid by now, like he wanted desperately to hope that his change was truly a deep one and lasting. He was still so painfully young and craving so much for any kind of a positive attitude, an approval, a word of goodwill or friendliness, eager to grasp at the perceived opportunity… - "But I never knew why you hated me…" – he finished the sentence quietly, pain spearing his spark by the look of it. - "Have I done something against you…?"
"No! Well, not anything in particular. But I never hated you, Optronix…" – it was almost painful to see how he flinched at the use of his designation but Megatron plunged on, trying to choose his words with care, softening the expressions as he spoke. It was harder work than an energon-stained battle and far more uncomfortable. – "… I just… I guess I expected you to be more like… like we are. The Iacon way is quite… foreign to us. If you learn more about it, you'll see."
Optronix nodded quietly, as he indeed knew this and suspected as much. But the sudden change made him cautious and suspicious still. They both know all of this before even the bonding, so it should have been no surprise to Megatron either. He still felt almost like being dead inside, but the unexpected behaviour of Megatron still tickled his meta, made him interested about its reason. He was still careful though, not quite trusting in the warlord.
"B-but what changed it now? I mean, I don't want to question you of course…"
Megatron flinched at the hurriedly added sentence, clearly meant to placate his anger, should he choose to take umbrage at the question. It was almost painful to see him try to understand the situation but at the same time fearing that a wrong question or just a word could throw Megatron back to his angry mood, which was basically the only one he knew. The young mech wasn't stupid, far from it, and he learned through hard lessons that the warlord's anger was painful and long.
"Something happened that made me realize how unfair I was towards you, Optronix. We will talk of it later when you trust me more, if that's all right…?" – the terminated sparkling was a taboo subject so far if he didn't want to forever alienate the younger mech. His brother was quite adamant on this and he had more experiences with such matters.
"Yes… okay, I guess." – Optronix glanced downwards submissively, drawing a bit more back and into himself - he didn't want to stretch the warlord's patience that so far seemed to hold. He'd take the not-angry Megatron any orn, and if he wasn't going to tell him what made him change, then he wouldn't ask. Not yet. Not while he himself felt this cold emptiness inside, that he had no explanation for.
"I realized that by separating you from my people, you suffered hardship here. I had a reason for it, but it was still not my intention, only I ignored the signs."
"What reason?" – maybe he could ask this much.
"As my… bondmate you could be challenged to a fight, a duel. Some of my more ambitious nobles would be eager to see you deactivated and through it me brought down." – Megatron was eager to explain at least this part, as it was true and not precisely something he could be blamed for. – "Obviously, you wouldn't be able to fight successfully with anyone from Kaon and I couldn't risk it. Isolating you from my mechs seemed to be the solution at the time."
"Ahh… I see." – Optronix was on one servo glad that his isolation actually had a logical reason for it; but on the other servo dismayed by the revelation as it would mean that he could never leave these rooms, no matter Megatron's mood and attitude-change towards him.
"Does it mean that I'm forever… locked up here… alone?" – he asked with a suddenly dry intake and fighting off unwanted, shameful tears that always seemed to irk the warlord, slim shoulder slumping dejectedly. Megatron had a sudden urge to hug those sad shoulders to make him happier, to dispel the hopeless sadness – but he knew that at the moment he'd just worsen the situation if he made any such advance.
"No. I can make some arrangements. I have already made some. You will have a servant from Kalis here and in time, with some secrecy and guards you can visit the city as well. Also, once you are sparked, it means that you won't, can't be challenged." – not much he could offer him right now, but a start anyway.
Optronix visibly perked up at the first part of Megatron's speech, but if the warlord thought that he'd be glad for the last part, he was mistaken. Of course he was glad to hear that his prison would be a bit lighter and he'd have a company in it soon. But being sparked meant interface and merging, the things that he came to associate with terror and pain. Besides it didn't happen in two vorns and Primus knew he did everything for it to succeed, despite of the pain it meant to him… Still, he repressed the nervous shuddering of his insides and answered with forced thankfulness and a show of happiness, lest Megatron would again get angry…
"I understand My Lord… thank you for the… company. I've always wanted a sparkling too, to fulfill the contract and… if it meant my freedom then I'd want it even more… despite everything…"
"Optronix… it is… I mean…" – Megatron fumbled with the words, now even more uncomfortable with what he had to say. – "I caused you pain… that way. I meant when I said that I won't touch you again, until you can… trust me. Interface shouldn't hurt… so far I was careless and injured you. I don't want to do that ever again."
Optronix couldn't dare to believe what he heard. No, he must be still recharging and dreaming of Megatron changing from an utterly sparkless monster into a caring bondmate from one cycle to the next. Such things only happened in sappy romance stories that he loved to read while he was younger. He stared at dream-Megatron, waiting for the pleasant fantasy to end now that he discovered that it was only a dream.
"Optronix? What is the problem?" – Megatron grew worried as his mate totally zoned out and stared at him unblinkingly, without a word.
"'m I dreaming, right?" – Optronix mumbled, mostly to himself. It was a persistent dream. A good one, but then it must end now that he realized its nature.
Megatron felt like a monster for that small utterance. That Optronix would think that it was all just a dream, that he couldn't even imagine him to be kinder, caring for real… he didn't believe him still. Of course… why would he? He gave the younger mech no proof yet, only words. He stood suddenly, his mouthplates tightened at the small flinch that Optronix made at his movement, but he couldn't sit any longer. Megatron was a mech of action not words.
"No, Optronix, it is not a dream. I mean every word that I said and you'll see proof of it soon enough." – he made no move to close the distance to the smaller mech, still curled up in a ball, almost lost on the too big berth. It would have been too early to try and initiate any contact, be it gentle or otherwise. He'd let Optonix see the changes first, gain some measure of trust and then try to reacquaint to him.
After he left, Optronix debated for a few kliks between wanting to believe him and afraid to do so – but at the end his tiredness won and without a decision, he fell back into the half-recharge that – unknown to him – was his self-repair nanites doing their work on the barely formed protoform, reabsorbing its parts into his frame. He was puzzled by the sudden tiredness and the unusual aches that went with it, but he had no way of knowing its reason. That he was so used to pains and aches at his age so they didn't cause any particular alarm to him was the testament to Megatron's careless roughness so far.
The warlord seemed… almost believable in what he said and serious without being angry. Optonix hoped that it wasn't just wishful thinking, just his yearning to have his fate get better. But did he dare to hope at this time? Did he dare to believe, to trust, just to have his hopes crushed again? He didn't know. He wanted to trust Megatron, because he had no other hope. As he emptied the cube of the sweet energon, just before falling into recharge, he decided to do so. His fate can't be worse than it was now anyway. It could only improve… and any improvement would be worth making an effort. He could make an effort if Megatron gave him a chance, that much he was sure.
Note: I haven't mentioned the question of the bond intentionally. Simply, neither of them dares to open it up just yet.