Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

--

How could one mech frag up their life this badly?

Of course Hot Rod hadn't done it on purpose. Unfortunate things just seemed to happen to him.

So here he was, the Cityspeaker of Iacon. Chosen by the titan itself. A Prime.

Quite honestly he had been there simply to witness the ceremony, these moments were always historical in every city. He had quietly, and very politely stood in the crowd as the most promising Cityspeaker candidates had walked on the elevated platform in front of the temple while the boring council members went on about honor and tradition.

One of those selected mechs was supposed to take the mantle of Prime and Cityspeaker, and the most popular choice had been Thunderclash. The greatest Autobot who ever lived.

He had studied under Optimus for stellar cycles, so it was clear who was going to be the next prime.

Instead of the titan choosing one of the council's obvious candidates, it chose Hot Rod. A monumentally failed ex-Cityspeaker of Nyon.

He couldn't remember much of what happened. One moment he was minding his own business and watching the ceremony, the next he was enveloped by familiar yet new sensation as the titan took control of his body.

Iacon had told him how happy it was to find a new Cityspeaker, one it felt an immense connection to.

When the titan let go of his mind and body, Hot Rod could vaguely make sense of his surroundings. He was in front of the cheering crowd, and his chassis was burning.

Yet the burn wasn’t unpleasant. It felt… right. Whole. Like this was how he was meant to be, and it brought him joy and comfort even in his confusion.

After that debacle he had been ushered into the temple, or whatever they called the place in Iacon.

He was very quickly informed Iacon had named him Rodimus Prime, its new Cityspeaker, and the council wasn’t happy about this development at all.

Several bots fussed around him, some were trying not to yell as they argued. Meanwhile many other mechs were watching the scene unfold before them, stunned to silence.

"This is highly irregular!"

"It is blasphemy, that's what it is."

"But Iacon has made its decision. Surely we cannot go against the titan's wishes?"

"We should. Look who it chose! He is clearly unqualified with his history."

"He was chosen by the will of Primus. The Matrix accepted its new vessel perfectly. We cannot go against the will of the Gods."

Nobody had even asked how Hot Rod felt about all of this. They simply argued around him as if he wasn’t in the room.

Several… priests? Servants? Were the only people paying attention to him. Bringing accessories, paints and other unnecessary beauty products in while they sat him down.

Nobody addressed him, just started to scrub him clean.

Hot Rod felt more like a secondhand decoration being polished before being placed on a pedestal. 

The politicians kept arguing in circles and apologizing to the candidates they had chosen for the ceremony. A few of them were quick to leave with a huff, Hot Rod didn't pay attention to them. Still stunned from the unexpected events.

The servant mechs kept cleaning and decorating him as more and more mechs left the room.

Maybe they decided to argue about his existence the following day? Hot Rod didn't care, not like anyone could really tell a titan it wasn't allowed to do something.

"Rodimus Prime, despite the unusual circumstances you are the Prime and this Sanctuary is now your home." A mech finally approached, addressing him for the first time.

Did they really call their temple a sanctuary? And he would have to live here? This place had been nothing but immaculately polished rare minerals and alloys with several statues and decorations everywhere. How was he supposed to live here?

"The priests will make sure you are presentable, and will help you with anything you might need here." Before Hot R-- Rodimus could make any comments the mech lifted their hand to silence him.

"The council will reconvene tomorrow and discuss how to handle this… fiasko. Until then, please make yourself at home."

Rodimus sat there in stunned silence, letting the priests yank him this and that way as they painted ceremonial decorations on him with gold. He didn't know what to say. If he could even say anything.

It was all so different from his time in Nyon.

How could one mech frag up their life this badly?

--

As it turned out the temple did have actual living quarters. Which Rodimus should have expected, considering how huge the building was.

Still his new home was… lavish. Like everything else in the temple. It lacked life and small personal touches. His berth was also an ostentatious show of wealth. The thing could fit five warframes, and all the imported draped fabrics were a little too much for Rodimus' tastes.

Which led him to his new problems.

Someone had draped steel and gold silk on his spoiler. Someone else had added several pieces of gold jewelry and now he shone as brightly as the day he was forged.

It felt… odd.

Rodimus didn't dislike it per se. His paint job wasn’t exactly subtle, but even he had his limits on detailing.

Still, this was what everyone expected. The example Optimus had left.

Somehow Rodimus was now meant to be the regal Prime everyone looked up to. Who was meant to communicate with the ancient titan of Iacon, and devote his life to serving it.

He wasn’t sure if he could be that. Rodimus had never been the regal type. More closer with the gutter mechs than the higher castes, even during his time with Nyon.

Nyon had understood him. How he wasn’t meant to be kept in a temple like an expensive ornament.

The first few cycles felt like a dream. He must have fuelled and recharged at some point because when the politicians returned Rodimus didn't feel empty and sluggish. Simply numb.

He barely paid attention to the mechs who came to the temple. There were certainly less of them, but still more than one would have expected.

"The council has come to a conclusion."

"We will respect you as our Prime, since it is the will of the titan. No matter how unexpected that decision was."

"And, because of these extraordinary circumstances Thunderclash has been appointed as your personal guard."

Rodimus didn't know what they meant. What all of this would mean to him and the city of Iacon.

Why did he need a personal guard? Was it some Iaconian tradition? Had Optimus had his own guard? And why Thunderclash?

The aforementioned mech towered over the council members, smiling gently as he was waved to step forward.

"He will accompany you in and out of the temple, and to all of your public appearances. We cannot be too careful with a new matrix bearer."

Ah… Thunderclash was his babysitter. To make sure Rodimus didn't embarrass anyone, or even dare to approach the people of Iacon.

He was well and truly trapped now.

Rodimus stayed quiet as the council members congratulated themselves and Thunderclash. He had to bite his glossa to keep any comments to himself. Speaking against the council must not have good repercussions, even when he was the Prime.

Eventually he was told to return to his duties, while Thunderclash was similarly dragged off to be polished to perfection. Rodimus had to wonder if his tacky paint job and insignia would be stripped off and replaced. The council must have had some kind of opinion about that.

--

Rodimus' duties were just as mundane as he had assumed. He was the only one allowed to the inner sanctum, which was the closest room to a titan's spark. So, he would have to maintain it and apparently write reports about it?

Iaconian way of things was too formal. Who needed it written down how many candles he replaced in a deca cycle, or what the titan asked him on a specific date?

With Nyon he had simply done what felt natural. Here everything felt stiff and regulated. Who needed him to pray and commune with the titan several hours every day? Iacon will talk to him if it has something to say.

Thunderclash wasn’t helping Rodimus' mood either. The dolt was always waiting for him, every time Rodimus stepped out the inner sanctum or his personal quarters. Apparently his guard needed to have access to his living quarters for security reasons. For Rodimus it simply felt like a very uncomfortable leash.

Admittedly his leash was fairly pretty. Thunderclash had received a similar treatment to what Rodimus had been through. Simply less gold decorations. Shame they hadn't changed the awful clashing colour scheme. Instead now everyone around the huge mech would have to suffer for it.

Rodimus did wonder what the purpose was to polish them to perfection. It wasn't like they were allowed out of the temple often. Maybe it was another Iaconian thing? Thunderclash would probably know the reason.

They hadn't talked much, since Rodimus wasn’t really in the mood for it. Preferring to sulk in silence and pretend to be engrossed in whatever menial tasks he had. It didn't stop Thunderclash from trying to start conversations at every possible opportunity though.

It was infuriating how nice he was, always smiling and asking inane things. Like Rodimus needed to be handled with silk gloves constantly. Rodimus could do without the guard acting so condescending.

Thank Primus the idiot knew how to stop prying after a while of no answers.

"Prime, I trust your communion with the titan went well." Thunderclash spoke up the moment he saw Rodimus exit the inner sanctum. Taking his place by his Prime's side, ready to follow wherever Rodimus would lead.

"Yes, yes. It went the same as every other time I've done it." Which meant absolutely nothing had happened. Iacon was quiet, and since the first day it had chosen Rodimus, it hasn't said much. Which in turn made the hours Rodimus had to spend locked alone in the room even more frustrating.

How did Optimus do this for so long?

"I'm glad to hear everything is well with our titan." Ugh, could Thunderclash stop that? He didn't have to pretend to be happy about everything.

"Yep. Everything is just perfect." Rodimus mumbled more to himself as he crossed his arms over his chassis.

He'll go crazy soon if he doesn't get out of the temple. No sane mech would willingly waste away their life here.

When Thunderclash made no effort to try and keep the smalltalk up, Rodimus headed off to a direction he knew had a view. A nice big balcony where he could see the city. He was allowed to be there, right?

Rodimus walked as casually as he could, there was no need to rouse suspicion already. He has wandered around the halls before without Thunderclash insisting they should return to the more populated parts.

When his appointed guard didn't raise a fuss when Rodimus stepped to the balcony, it really got his hopes up.

Now he just needed to get Thunderclash relaxed or distracted. The idiot usually didn't lose focus when they spent hours in silence… so maybe talking would distract him enough?

"Did you know Optimus well?" Rodimus asked after a moment of leaning on the railing of the balcony, looking down to the crystal garden several feet below him.

"The previous Prime? Yes, I suppose I did. I once carried the Matrix for him, but- I did return it when the Prime was fully healed." Thunderclash sounded surprised he had been asked something, but once again proving why he had been the council's first choice.

"Do you ever miss him? I can't be much of a replacement for him, since I'm… you know." Rodimus made a vague gesture at himself. He wouldn't call himself a guttermech, but nobody he knew would ever describe him as regal.

"My Prime, you are just as capable and loved as Optimus is." The multicolored truck was quick to reply, as if shocked that Rodimus would undermine himself.

"And I do miss him, he was our friend and… my Prime? Rodimus Prime?"

Rodimus really didn't have as much of a headstart as he would have liked. Thunders was really dedicated to his job.

But he had still taken his chances and jumped off the ledge of the balcony. Swinging to slide against the wall of the temple to soften his landing was easy. He had done this so many times on much less structurally sound buildings.

He didn't have time to think about it though as he burst into a sprint the moment his pedes hit the ground. Pulling the ostentatious goldweave off his spoiler so he could transform.

Once he was free of his unnecessary decoration, jumping into his transformation felt so freeing. Rodimus was also glad for his speedster frame, no idiot heavy truck would be able to catch up with him.

Rodimus flew through the streets of Iacon. A perk of having blazing red paint meant everyone saw him from a mile away, jumping out of his way to let him cruise further away from the temple.

Though, a downside to his paint was that his pursuers would be able to spot him very easily as well.

It made him really wish he was still with Nyon. Asking the titan to open up secret passageways under the roads had been as natural as breathing, but Rodimus had no idea if Iacon would be as cooperative.

So, for now Rodimus settled on getting far enough downtown to slow down and walk his way to a bar or some other club. Despite his fancy decorations he could act like he belonged there.

Maybe pretending he was some fancy shareware could help? Iacon must have a seedy underbelly like every other city.

Unfortunately it wasn't nearly late enough for redlight districts to be visibly open, so Rodimus opted to sneak his way into a bar. Something nicer than he would usually choose, but someone as shiny as him would stand out like a sore thumb anywhere shittier.

The place was relatively quiet, and clean. A few other mechs were sitting around the space but didn't pay much attention, aside from a glance, to Rodimus.

The red speedster let out a deep vent to cool down his engines. The slight burn felt good even if he was technically running away from the law.

When he approached the bar the minibot working behind it noticed him.

"Woah, you are really shiny to be my usual clientele. But then again, I won't mind as long as you actually have Shanix to pay for your drinks." The bot started talking before Rodimus could get a word in.

"Name's Swerve, and this is Swerve's."

When Rodimus was sure the minibot was done talking he sat down.

"Yeah, I'm uh-- visiting the lower levels of the city, and your bar looked nice." He was technically not lying.

"And just pour me something nice, I haven't had any engex in a while."

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere? You look really familiar." Swerve suddenly asked as he was mixing a drink for Rodimus.

Oh no, how much had his new position at the temple been broadcasted? Rodimus didn't know because he wasn’t allowed near vidscreens or datapads.

"Uh, well I did some racing a few years ago? Competed against Blurr once or twice? Maybe you saw me in some of those vids?" Again, not a lie. Just a few years ago might have been several decades ago.

"Wait- holy Primus! You're the new--"

"Shh! Don't yell that!" Rodimus quickly leaned over the bar to silence the motor mouthed minibot with his servo.

"I don't want any trouble, do you know how hard it was to even get out of the temple?" He couldn't help the frown forming on his faceplates.

Rodimus could still feel Swerve's wide smile under his servo. After a moment Rodimus cautiously leaned back, letting the minibot talk again.

"No problem, you can have the first drink on the house." Swerve slid the glowing orange concoction towards Rodimus, his blinding smile still plastered to his face.

"I can't believe it, a Prime in my bar." He added more quietly this time.

"Yeah well, you never know who's gonna be the next one." Rodimus shrugged as he took a swig of the drink. The engex burned nicely all the way to his tanks.

"Can I get a picture with you? Nobody is gonna believe I had a Prime as a customer otherwise." Swerve seemed to be starstruck. Certainly not a reaction Rodimus ever thought his knowledge as a Cityspeaker would get him.

"Sure? But, you can't be mad at me when my guard busts through the door to drag me back to my cell." Might as well deal with that inevitability while he can.

"Deal. All is forgiven. And if you ever return you can sign the picture." Swerve reached out and shook the speedster's hand. Seeming more than happy to put up with his new celebrity guest.

A couple of pictures later, to make sure at least one of them wasn’t blurry, Rodimus was allowed to return back to his drink.

He and Swerve had a few shared interests, the biggest being Earth media. Rodimus didn't believe Swerve had actually seen ALL of Earth media, but by his third drink the minibot was starting to be convincing.

At least he had seen all of Rodimus' favourite earth movies, so that was a plus.

Eventually Thunderclash found him. His arrival at the bar wasn’t as dramatic as Rodimus had hoped. Simply quietly checking in at the door, and upon recognizing the blaringly bright correct color scheme slumped over the counter of the bar he walked in.

"No way!? You didn't say Thunderclash, the Greatest Autobot alive was your guard??" Swerve was practically yelling next to Rodimus, who just hit his chevron against the counter and groaned back.

Even when he was pulling off a stupid stunt of his own, this clown was upstaging him.

"My Prime, I'm so glad to find you… unharmed." Thunderclash ignored the minibot and kneeled down in order to look at Rodimus' face, which he was firmly trying to hide.

"Well, you found me. So you can go back and tell them I'm doing just fantastic." Rodimus lifted himself enough to take another sip of his drink. Making a point to not look at the crime against paint jobs next to him.

He should have asked for something stronger, but in all honesty he had thought he would have a few more hours before he was found.

"My orders were clear to return you to the temple, my Prime."

"What if I order you to leave me here? ...Can I even do that?" Rodimus frowned and kept leaning against the counter, giving no indication he was going to leave willingly.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that. My Prime, please, it is late and you are needed at the temple." Thunderclash stood up and held up his servo for Rodimus to take.

Psh, needed at the temple . Yeah right. Did he have to clear dust off of an altar? 

Rodimus weighed his options. He could try and stay, but was fairly sure Thunderclash had been told to bring him back kicking and screaming if necessary. And the truck could easily carry him back to the temple.

So, he didn't actually have a choice. Simply if he wanted to be difficult about it or not.

"Fine. Just let me pay for my drinks first." Rodimus sighed dramatically, finishing the last of his drink and waving for Swerve to bill him.

After a few more hushed exchanges with Swerve about who his security was, Rodimus finally got off his stool. Again making a point of ignoring Thunderclash.

"It's been fun, Swerve, I'll be back for that autograph at some point." Rodimus waved behind him and marched out of the bar. His rather large shadow wordlessly followed behind him.

It was dark outside, and much fewer people than before. Rodimus looked at his surroundings to memorize where this Swerve's actually was.

Lost Light district. Easy enough to remember.

"Took you a while to find me. Even though I had banked on it taking you longer. Didn't even have time to get wasted… or maybe I just made the mistake of enjoying myself." Rodimus scoffed as he kept walking. Not actually sure if he was going the right direction. As long as it was uphill, he should be good.

"The council isn't happy about this, my Prime." Thunderclash said with as much neutrality as ever. Not angry at all he had just spent the entire evening running around the city looking for Rodimus.

"Yeah, no shit. I knew what I was doing."

"Don't say that, my Prime. I'm sure the council will be more understanding if this was just a simple misunderstanding." Right, as if they would let any little mistake Rodimus made slide.

Thunderclash was so naive.

"Let's just get back to the temple so I can be locked back up." Rodimus could feel his mood souring with every step and yelling at Thunderclash would probably just be a waste of energy.

"As you wish, my Prime."

–

Chapter Text

--

To say the council was unfair towards Rodimus Prime was an understatement in Thunderclash's opinion.
When they had finally returned to the temple from the Prime's small escapade, several council members or their staff were waiting for them. Chastising Rodimus for pulling a stunt like that and ending up in the tabloids.
The Prime himself said nothing, the previous fiery energy seeming to have drained out of him.

The entire situation felt blown entirely out of proportion, but it wasn't Thunderclash's place to say anything.
They berated the new Prime for the most miniscule of mistakes. When in fact the titan had chosen Rodimus as its new mouthpiece, giving the speedster the highest honor a mech in Iacon could have.

After that evening Rodimus Prime fell back to his normal, more quiet self. Though, Thunderclash was starting to think the mech he had found in the bar was actually who Rodimus really was. Fiery like his paint, and filled with petty sarcasm. Yet gentle and friendly if he wanted to be.
This husk of a person performing the duties required of a Prime lacked the same spark.

Thunderclash was honored to be in the position he was. Anyone close to the Prime should be.
The years already spent studying in the temple had gotten him used to the daily routine. Now that he had a proper job with variables, his life was much more interesting.

Rodimus didn't have a set routine. Of course they had certain things which needed to be done each day, but Rodimus never settled for a specific way to go about it.
One day he would get everything done early and spend the rest of the day doing light free time activities.
On another he would sleep in and sprinkle his tasks throughout the day.

Some days he would spend the minimum amount of time required in the inner sanctum, on others he would spend most of the day there. Still, Rodimus rarely mentioned if their titan had anything to say. Seeming sad or defeated most times he emerged from the sanctum.

It wasn't unusual for Iacon to be quiet. It was one of the oldest titans. Even Optimus Prime had said the titan rarely communicated meaningfully.
Maybe Rodimus would need reassurance that nothing was wrong with his relationship with Iacon? Thunderclash wasn’t Optimus, but maybe knowing the previous Prime didn't talk with the titan daily would make Rodimus feel better.

"My Prime, Optimus once told me Iacon is a very quiet titan, that it sometimes took weeks before it had something to ask." Thunderclash said one evening when Rodimus was sitting in one of the halls filled with impeccably kept crystal flowers.
The Prime seemed to tense up when he was snapped from his thoughts, slowly turning his helm to look at a very small flying mechanimal.

"Is that so? Were you Optimus' appointed guard as well?" Thunderclash was surprised to hear Rodimus answering him back. Usually his comments and small talk fell to seemingly deaf audials.

"No, my Prime. I was studying cityspeaking under him, as I didn't have the innate ability for it. But, I would like to say we are friends." Optimus, now calling himself Orion Pax again, was a good mech. Even if people said he let Iacon down by giving up his position as the Prime.

"Well that's a first. The great Thunderclash wasn’t forged perfect after all." Rodimus let out a vented chuckle, but it still lacked the same bite as the night in the bar.

"I'm sorry, my Prime?" Thunderclash wasn’t sure what the speedster meant. Having the natural talent, like Rodimus had, for cityspeaking was rare. Besides, he was far from perfect.

The Prime let out a deep vent, waving a delicate servo dismissively.
"Just forget about it."

Thunderclash had a hard time understanding Rodimus. He would usually describe himself as a people person, but everything about Rodimus made him question that.
The Prime acted cold and dismissive most of the time, but there were small fleeting moments he was passionate and caring. Even now there was something more which threatened to surface, but was pulled back under.

Maybe he simply needed more time to adjust? Considering Rodimus hadn't spent years training for the position he was currently in. Any normal mech would find the sudden change jarring.

"Would you like to return to your quarters, my Prime?" Thunderclash asked several moments later. It wasn't all that late yet, but maybe he could lift up the Prime's spirit with a datapad.

He almost thought Rodimus had chosen to ignore him once more, before the speedster let out another deep vent.
"I suppose it doesn't matter where I sit. At least nobody else has to see my miserable face there."

Thunderclash frowned slightly at the self-deprecating comment, fighting the urge to disagree with the speedster. He also fought the urge to offer his servo to help the Prime stand up. Rodimus had many times pushed his servo away or simply ignored it, so Thunderclash by now understood that Rodimus didn't want or need his help.

For a speedster frame, Rodimus walked slowly through the halls of the temple. His spoiler hung low as if the delicate weave draped over it weighed as much as lead.
Something was clearly bothering the Prime.

When they arrived at the doors to the Prime's private quarters, a priest was there to remove the extra decorations they had put on the Prime earlier that day. The process was quick and practiced by now as Rodimus had gotten used to the priests pushing and pulling his frame to make him presentable to the public… even if they never left the temple.

Thunderclash thankfully didn't have to wear any extra decorations. The gold detailing he was given was more than enough for him. He didn't have to be maintained as often as the Prime either, so he was glad for that small blessing.

Usually Thunderclash didn't follow Rodimus to his rooms. It felt like a breach of the little privacy the Prime had, even if he was allowed to be there. But today he had a good reason to follow the Cityspeaker to the living area.
They walked in and by the time the doors closed behind them Rodimus had dramatically thrown himself onto one of the plush seats in the room. Thunderclash could faintly hear a groan as the Prime sunk further into the cushions.

"My Prime, I thought--"

"AH! Wha--?? You're still here?" Rodimus flailed as he quickly sat up, looking at Thunderclash with wide optics.
Hadn't he heard the footsteps behind him?

"Y-yes? My Prime, please excuse me if I am crossing a boundary. I simply wanted to ask if you wanted to borrow my datapad for an hour or two?" Thunderclash lifted his servos up to try to placate the Prime, and hoped he looked less threatening this way.

Rodimus still looked at him dumbstruck, not fully comprehending the situation.
"What?" He finally said, his chevron furrowing in a rather adorable way.

"Well, my Prime, I thought you would enjoy a small piece of civilization. Since it is not technically against the code for you to borrow a datapad for a moment." Thunderclash felt a little bad for bending the rules slightly. But in his defense, there was no hard rule against the Cityspeaker borrowing outside technology. Otherwise parades and especially meetings with other titans would be near impossible to arrange.

"You aren't trying to purposefully get me in trouble, are you?" Rodimus asked skeptically. Looking past the guard to see if the door was actually closed, or if someone was eavesdropping on them.

"I would never do something like that to you, my Prime. I simply thought you would enjoy something more familiar to you." Thunderclash pulled a datapad from his subspace, offering it to the speedster. He rarely used this one, it was mostly for more official messages. Which were securely put behind a code so the Prime wouldn't get in trouble even on accident.

Rodimus still seemed doubtful even as he stood up and took the datapad from Thunderclash. When he noticed the extranet worked along with some basic apps, the Cityspeaker relaxed visibly.
"Oh thank Primus, I thought I would go crazy before I would be allowed to see what was happening outside of the temple."

Thunderclash smiled happily as Rodimus started to search for something or other on the datapad. Quick to seat himself on the same couch from earlier, the Prime was soon engrossed on the device.

As Thunderclash hadn't been ordered to leave he quietly took a seat on another chair, giving Rodimus plenty of space just in case he changed his mind. He then pulled his personal datapad out, interested to see if anything of note had happened in other cities.

The simple life in the temple had its perks, but after so many years outside of it, it was understandable that everyone craved for the convenience of outside technology.

They ended up spending several hours in comfortable silence, before Thunderclash had to leave for the night.

--

Sitting in the sparsely decorated room of the inner sanctum felt frustrating when the titan, who had chosen him, refused to communicate. Rodimus would never claim that he understood titans perfectly. Nyon had been fairly straightforward, but still had its confusing moments.
Iacon was… different, to say the least.

First of all the titan was old. Ancient. One of the first titans to appear from the Well of Allspark.
Secondly, it didn't seem to be very talkative to begin with.

Which left Rodimus with plenty of time to do nothing. He usually spent the required time, someone had decided he should spend, in the inner sanctum by cleaning. He would make sure the chamber was as clean as it could be.
This was the closest spot to the titan's spark after all. Even Rodimus had some manners.

On occasion Iacon answered his questions or comments. Though usually the titan misunderstood Rodimus' humor or meaning. He quickly understood that this ancient being barely understood what was happening on the planetside or even within the city.
It was so detached from its citizens by now.

"Is something bothering you, my dearest Prime? You seem… distressed." He could hear the titan ask as he was finishing up his routine of wiping a golden plaque clean.
Iacon didn't move any parts of the room or project a hologram, making it feel more distant than it should be.

"I suppose… I miss Nyon." Rodimus wasn’t sure if bringing up the dead titan was a good idea, but Iacon must have known about what happened.
"After I-- after I failed it, I've been lonely."

"Oh, my flame. You are never alone here." It was technically true. He walked inside a titan most of the day and had Thunderclash follow him constantly.
Physically he wasn’t alone, no.

"I know that, but… don't you ever want to go talk to your citizens? See the joy and sorrow you provide for them?"

"For a millennia I have watched them, I know my citizens are content."

"But we could still help so many, if we only--"

"Dear Prime, it is why the council exists."

Why didn't Iacon want anything to do with the world outside of the temple? Rodimus didn't understand.

"...Do you want me to relay them a message?" There was no use trying to convince a being like Iacon to change its mind.

"My love for them is as boundless and eternal as my spark, and that love flows through you Rodimus Prime."

After that the titan fell silent again. Content to leave things as they were.

Rodimus quietly left the sanctum, not entirely sure what he should do with such a declaration. Had the titan meant the council, or the people of Iacon in general?

Rodimus wasn’t a poet or a philosopher, but he would still try to write down their conversation as eloquently as possible. In hopes that it would be read or told to the citizens one day.

Most of his writings so far looked like unorganized messes. Compared to the long essays and thoughts of Optimus, Zeta and Nominus he was completely out of his depth.
Maybe over time he'll get the hang of it?
He can't do worse than Sentinel.

--

The Prime seemed happier after Thunderclash had secretly started to share outside technology with him.
He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret per se. Nobody simply visited the Prime's quarters during evenings to see what they were doing.
The priests didn't question why Thunderclash followed Rodimus to his rooms. Most of the time they were too busy to tend to their own tasks to linger and sniff out gossip.

To be honest, Thunderclash was relieved how nobody in the temple was undermining Rodimus' position. It had been hard enough for the speedster to get used to the temple life in the first place. He didn't need the clergy and guard treating him poorly on top.

Thunderclash had to be careful though. What he had at first thought was the need to do something good and right, was turning into him doing things for more selfish reasons.

Of course it was only right that Rodimus should be happy. And was it not part of Thunderclash's duties to ensure his safety and comfort? But as of late, his duty for his Prime wasn’t the only reason for his actions.

He knew he was being selfish for giving into the Prime's demands, just to see him smile. Or hear Rodimus talk about something he was passionate about.
He wanted to see and hear everything the speedster wanted to share. To witness the same burning passion the titan had surely seen as well.

"My Prime, would you like to go outside today?" Thunderclash was fairly sure it wasn't against his code or rules if they walked right outside of the temple.
It was a fairly decent day, and the streets would be quiet. Perfect to allow Rodimus some freedom, even if only for a moment.

"I think I've seen enough of the crystal gardens this week already." Rodimus was leaning over a windowsill, his helm resting on his crossed arms, looking out to the city.

"I meant outside of the temple grounds, my Prime." Thunderclash felt slightly awkward clarifying himself. It wasn't his place to tell the Prime what to do, or skirt the rules by his own volition.
He only hoped his suggestion would make Rodimus happy.

Rodimus shuttered his optics several times, seeming like he didn't believe what he was hearing.
"Really?" He finally asked, unusually quiet.

"We wouldn't be able to go far, but you would be able to meet with some of the citizens."

Rodimus visibly brightened as he jumped to his pedes.
"No way! Let's go then!" He let out a laugh and almost threw himself at Thunderclash. Giving a quick hug before he was already running down the hall.

Thunderclash was slightly dazed from the reaction. He had to snap himself out of it quickly though, so he could follow his Prime.
He hadn't expected that strong of a reaction.

Rodimus was almost vibrating in his plates when they walked past the front gates of the temple. The speedster didn't seem to care how he looked as he told Thunderclash to hurry up.

It didn't take long before people recognized Rodimus Prime, but it did take some more brave individuals to approach the Cityspeaker.

This was just as unusual a situation for the citizens as it was for everyone else… except Rodimus.
The Prime was eager to talk to people, to share his warmth.
He knew as the Cityspeaker he had power, and Rodimus chose to use it for compassion.

Mechs came to him with questions and prayers. Rodimus Prime chose to comfort them and tell them how much Iacon adored its people.

Thunderclash was glad Rodimus was their Prime and Cityspeaker. Nobody else would care for the people this much.

How did something so small as a few breems out with the people give Rodimus so much?

Thunderclash made a decision to do this again more often. Because what could make himself more happy than to see his Prime so radiant and joyful?

--

The thrill of escaping the temple and his annoyingly handsome guard didn't lessen the second time he did it.
Rodimus felt slightly bad for tricking Thunderclash, but he needed all the time he could get to disappear into the night. The appointed guard would get over it eventually. Not like the council would ever fire their perfect Autobot.

Rodimus had hoped that by now Iacon would answer his calls outside the sanctum, but it seemed the titan was in deep slumber or simply ignoring everything around it. A shame really, since Rodimus had found several old maps which indicated that the titan would have several entrances and passageways throughout the city. Those would make staying hidden from his guards much easier.

He simply opted to speed his way to the lower levels again, slowing down and switching to root mode once he had sufficient distance to the temple.
It was dark and if he acted like normal, less people would pay attention to him. Rodimus would also have to hope Thunderclash would beeline to the bar he had previously found him. So after an hour or two the speedster could actually go back there. He had promised an autograph after all.

Flitting in and out of nightclubs and bars had its fun, though Rodimus didn't dare to ingest anything Too many hungry optics landed on him, and too many hungry mechs offered him drinks.
He might live in a gilded cage nowadays, but Rodimus still knew how people like these could be.

Thankfully several people only wanted to dance with him. Complimenting his gold detailing as strobe lights hit them just right. It was fun to let go, even if he was doing it so far with no engex in his system.

After hopping through a few more bars, Rodimus made his way to the Lost Light district. He didn't see anyone from the temple hanging about, so he quickly made his way to Swerve's and prayed his plan actually worked.

"If it isn't my favourite customer!" The familiar minibot announced the moment Rodimus had stepped in. It was met with several murmurs from across the bar. Apparently Swerve liked to say that about a lot of mechs.
"Thought you might pop by, since Thunderclash came looking for you. The big guy even let me get a selfie with him. Can't believe you get to spend every day with him."

The Prime frowned in annoyance as Swerve kept praising the big lumbering oaf of a guard.
"Yeah I get it, he's perfect and whatever. Can a mech get a drink around here? Preferably something strong so I can pass out before mister perfect Autobot comes back to haul me away." Rodimus sat on a stool again, leaning against the counter. His mood wasn’t completely soured from the mention of Blundercrash, but he really did need a drink.

"You got it, boss." Swerve gave him a salute and proceeded to mix a drink, which hopefully had more engex in it. All the while starting to ramble about something unrelated.
It seemed running his mouth was a natural state for the minibot. Rodimus wasn’t bothered, since he had started to miss people just acting like normal mechs around him.

As Rodimus was handed his drink, now decorated with a curly straw, a mech sat down next to him. Leaning much closer for them to be simply here to drink.
"Excuse me, I don't mean to bother you, but are you really the Prime? Swerve likes to embellish stories, so I am a little sceptical." The mech asked in a polite hushed tone, which caught Rodimus off guard. He had half expected some drunken propositions.

When he turned to look at the mech next to him properly, Rodimus swore they looked familiar. Primarily white, with yellow and red highlights, massive finials… and at least 3 giant swords.

"Drift?!" Rodimus almost choked on his drink when he recognized the speedster next to him.
Similar recognition was mirrored back on Drift's faceplates.

"Hot Rod?! You-- you look so different now. What happened?" Drift asked in shock, taking a hold of one of the yellow servos of the Prime.

"Well, talk for yourself. You certainly upgraded as well." Rodimus laughed as he looked his old friend over.
"It's Rodimus now, by the way, and yeah… I guess when someone sticks an artifact made by Primus himself in your chest it changes you." He shrugged slightly, trying to play it off as nothing serious.

"Primus… I didn't-- I mean, I heard the titan chose a new Prime. But, I admittedly didn't look into it so I didn't know." Drift squeezed his servo tighter in worry. It seemed Rodimus wasn’t the only one to change after the fall of Nyon.

"It's okay, I'm doing fine. Apparently I'm just so talented at cityspeaking the titans can't get enough of me." He offered his best smile to his amica.
"I'm more interested to hear what happened to you. What made you turn this soft?"

Drift looked away bashfully, as if Rodimus had cut right to the core with his question.
"Well, I've become a spectralist… and I might have reconnected with that one medic I told you about."

"No way! You finally got the ball bearings to ask him out?" Rodimus could almost feel his entire frame vibrating. He loved gossip. And what better gossip was there than his friend's love life?

"Well…" Drift trailed off, still not looking back at the red speedster.

"I can't believe you, you still haven't asked him? You are literally killing me, Drift."

"I am talking to him, so that's progress!"

Both of them laughed as Drift tried to defend himself.
Rodimus had really missed this. He didn't have many friends left, so running into one of them meant his luck must have been turning.

They ordered several more drinks and moved to a free booth, after Swerve had gotten the picture he had taken last time autographed of course.
It was immediately placed on the wall behind the bar.

Drift told him about the traveling he had done and how he had run into Ratchet by accident. Rodimus still needled his amica for not acting on his obvious pining, but knew not to push the matter too much. He had met Ratchet and knew some grand gesture wouldn't win Drift any points.

Rodimus finally opened up about his life as the Prime. How boring and mundane it was, and how controlling the council and clergy were.
He also told Drift about the little good things he had left. Like how Thunderclash let him use a datapad almost nightly, or let him walk on the streets just outside of the temple. He could talk to people but do little else. Maybe with small steps he'd be allowed to help people more significantly.

The more engex he drank the more solemn Rodimus felt, as opposed to actually having fun. Well, he rarely drank for fun… so maybe that was his problem.
Drift didn't seem to mind looking at the Prime drink himself to a stupor. Simply wrapping a comforting arm around the red speedster.

Once again, several hours later Thunderclash made an appearance at the bar. At least that's what Rodimus gathered when he could hear Swerve freaking out behind the bar and someone else swoon.

"My Prime, I've come to bring you back to the temple." And again the truck didn't seem bothered how Rodimus had outsmarted him and led him on a wild goose chase.

"No, I'm staying here and making this bar my new temple." Rodimus let out a tired vent, wrapping his arms around Drift in the booth. He didn't want to go back, he'll be made to sit alone in empty rooms again.

"I don't think that's allowed." The white speedster muttered next to him, patting Rodimus' back a few times in comfort.

"I'm going to have to ask you to unhand the Prime." Thunderclash said sternly this time, far from his usual soft demeanor.

"Thunders! This is my amica, he's allowed to be as handsy as he wants." Rodimus gasped, not really sure if he was actually offended that Thunderclash would pry him away from his friend.
"...wait, are we still amica even after some titan stuck the Matrix into my spark and changed it forever? Or does it invalidate the bond?"

Drift's optics flickered from Rodimus to Thunderclash, not really knowing who he should be listening to.
"Roddy, maybe you should--"

"No! I don't want to lose my last amica. I can show you that it's still the same spark under everything--"

"Rodimus! Don't open your chassis here!" Drift scrambled to push Rodimus' chest back closed, keeping his hands away from the latches.
"We are still amicas, you idiot, and you are just drunk."

"My Prime, perhaps we should return to the temple." Thunderclash interjected again as the group was getting the attention of everyone in the bar… not like they didn't have it already.

"Yeah, let's get you back home. We can do another amica ceremony when you're sober again." Drift kept his arms wrapped around Rodimus, easily pushing the other speedster out of the booth.

"You still want me as your amica after everything I did?" Rodimus asked with coolant gathering in his optics.

"Just concentrate on walking for now, okay?" Drift smiled and handed the Prime over to the bodyguard.
Thunderclash had no problem carrying most of his weight and steering the intoxicated speedster outside.

Rodimus felt dizzy in the dark. He couldn't make sense of his chronometer either. The cool air felt nice though.
He let steam out of his vents when he realized how overheated his frame was. He had forgotten to regulate properly with the engex in his system. Oops.

When he was starting to get his bearings again Drift appeared in his field of vision.

"I promise I'll come and visit you in the temple." Drift was smiling, which probably meant they were still amicas.
Rodimus nodded back with a smile of his own. Which only made him dizzy again.

How much had he drunk? Rodimus had to steady himself on the warm wall next to him. A wall which held him back.
Oh yeah, Blundercrash was here.
He could vaguely hear talking next to him as he vented out more heat from his frame. The cool rush felt nice.

"It's time to go back, my Prime." Thunders said next to him. Though after a few rather wobbly steps, Rodimus was lifted up as his appointed guard carried him back.
Which was fine by him. His mind was pleasantly buzzing and his frame was warm and relaxed.

–-

Chapter Text

--

He felt bad for not doing his job as efficiently as possible. The moment Rodimus had fled Thunderclash knew where he would eventually find the Prime.
And yet, he had visited the eccentric bar and politely asked if Rodimus had been there, then he had left to wander around the city by himself. The most logical solution would have been to stay there and let other security run around aimlessly.

Instead he had given Rodimus time to enjoy himself on purpose, and nobody knew it.

It was against everything required of him. But, finding Rodimus with someone he called his amica endura seemed like being lax in his duties was worth it.

Now he was carrying the overcharged Prime back to the temple, trying his best not to jostle the smaller frame too much and make him sick.
There would be hell to pay for both of them in the morning, but for now Thunderclash was happy Rodimus was unharmed.

By the time they reached the temple it was very late. Nobody was there to yell at the Prime, simply one of the priests was waiting for their return and to remove whatever decorations Rodimus hadn't ripped off himself before.

Thunderclash thanked the priest and carried the Prime to his quarters. He'll have to wake Rodimus up to get him to his berth, since it was one of the rooms Thunderclash had no right to be in.

"Rodimus, my Prime. We're in your quarters." Thunderclash said as he tried to uncurl the snoozing speedster, who grumbled back at him. Seeming unhappy.

"My Prime, it would be best for you to go to your berth and sleep properly." He tried again, this time pulling the red hot frame away from his own. Trying to get him to stand on his own pedes.
Rodimus was a very average sized mech, but still he felt so light and delicate that Thunderclash was afraid to dent him by accident.

"Uuuhhn, 'don't wanna walk…" The Prime's speech was slurred as he made no effort to keep his own balance. Simply reaching out to wrap his warm servos back around Thunderclash.

Maybe he should leave Rodimus to sleep this off on the couch? It was clear the speedster wasn’t going to make it to his berth without help, and Thunderclash wasn’t about to skirt more rules tonight.
It wasn't like the seats in Rodimus' quarters were uncomfortable.

"Okay, I'll just-- make you comfortable here." He lifted Rodimus up again and walked to the couch the Prime seemed to favor.

It took a long moment before Thunderclash was able to detach Rodimus' legs from around him. He had noticed the Prime being clingy with his friend, but it seemed to be twice as bad now. Like trying to get a sparkling to let go of anything.
At least he wasn’t an angry drunk.

"Rodimus, I need you to let go of my kibble." Thunderclash said gently as he sat next to the other mech. He didn't want to forcibly pull the golden hands away from him, he'd surely lose his job if he injured the Prime.
But Rodimus was making this much more difficult than originally thought.

Thunderclash's request had the opposite effect on him.

"Mm, I like 't when you say my name." Rodimus let out a hum and leaned closer, his optics dimmed as he looked at his guard. Thunderclash couldn't fathom what was going through the Prime's processor, but the press of the comparatively hot frame against his was starting to make him flustered.

"I-- ah, my Prime. It would be best for you to get some recharge. You are drunk." Thunderclash tried to reason with the Prime once more.

"Yeah, 'm drunk on you." Rodimus laughed before clumsily pressing forward and planting a dentae rattling kiss on Thunderclash's lips.

Thunderclash was more shocked than actually injured, though this didn't seem to deter Rodimus in the slightest. Moving to sit on Thunderclash's lap and taking a tight hold of the blue helm, angling his lips to kiss more comfortably.
It was quick, sloppy and unbearably hot.

When Rodimus moved to trace his glossa over Thunderclash's neck cables, it finally made the larger truck fully realize what was happening.
This time he pulled the red speedster away from him in alarm, holding him back at arm's length. Not nearly as worried about hurting the Prime as previously. His own frame had heated up significantly and Thunderclash had to stop his own cooling fans from turning on.

This was wildly inappropriate on so many levels, no matter how good it felt.

Rodimus looked at him dazed as he was being pushed back against the couch.
"Mmyeah, 'Clash, I like that." He purred and arched his frame hoping to entice Thunderclash to continue.

Oh no.

Thunderclash had to bite down hard on his glossa to suppress any more of his frame's reactions. This shouldn't and couldn't happen. For multiple reasons, and the topmost one was that Rodimus was intoxicated… quickly followed by the fact that Rodimus was the Prime.

He quickly let go of the red beautiful frame, letting it fall back to the couch, scrambling off of the seat himself.
His processor immediately worked clearer when he wasn’t inches away from the overheated and overcharged speedster.

"M-my Prime, I will leave you to recharge in peace now." He said hurriedly before Rodimus got up, or got any other regretful ideas.
Thunderclash decisively left the room without another glance at his Prime.

He wasn’t running away. He was doing the right thing.
Rodimus wasn’t interested in him, it was simply the engex which made him act like that. They would have a respectful conversation about it in the morning, and that was it. It would never happen again.

He had crossed a boundary and would apologize for it. Rodimus trusted him with his life, so it was only right for Thunderclash to accept any punishment the Prime and council saw fit to give him.

Still, another part of him knew it had been everything he had fantasized about. Thunderclash wasn’t ignorant to the fact he liked Rodimus. It was hard not to. The little Prime had faced so much adversity in his life, yet still wanted nothing more than to help the common mecha and did it with a smile.
Iacon had chosen him and the Matrix shone brightly through his optics as proof of how good Rodimus was.

The way he spoke his truth, not caring if his opinions were popular or not. Sparks of something fierce and loyal deep inside of him.
Thunderclash felt it was inevitable for him to develop feelings for someone so wonderful.

But it was forbidden. He shouldn't fall in love with his Prime.

He finally stopped when he reached his own quarters. He could feel his irregular heated vents as he tried to lower his core temperature.

He should recharge and apologize in the morning. Certainly not spend the next several hours thinking about any implications of what had just occurred with the Prime.
No sir, since there was no way Rodimus was attracted to him.
It was simply the engex making him act like that.

Thunderclash was going to have a long night.

--

His optics hurt and his processor felt like it was lagging.
How much had he drunk last night? Or rather, what had Swerve mixed him?

It took a moment for Rodimus to realize he wasn’t in his berth, instead uncomfortably pressed to the crevice of one of the couches in his living area.
Makes sense, since Thunderclash had carried him back. That dolt would refuse to carry him to his berth because of some stupid rules.

Okay so, he was found and brought back to the temple. Thunders had carried him, which in hindsight was pretty impressive. Rodimus wasn’t a minibot after all.
Then what?
His jewelry was probably removed and… 'Clash sitting next to him?

Rodimus tried to sort his memory to be in order, though most of it was simply him holding on to that stupidly painted chest.
So, they're on the couch. Thunderclash had been extremely comfortable to snooze against.

Oh no.

And then, he did that.
That explains why he could remember abruptly ending up on the couch alone and revved up.
Well, frag.

Wasn’t he just the biggest idiot? He should have known something like this would happen if he drank as much as he did. Especially since he knew reliable old Thunderclash would fetch him and do the gentlemech thing to help him to his room. Could he have even set everything up more disastrously?

Waking up alone and no signs of an overload also indicated how Thunderclash didn't want him like that.
Which was, fine, good. Rodimus hated the idiot anyway. He should be glad the mighty Thunderclash didn't want his frame.

Rodimus wasn’t special. Thunderclash would treat any other bot the same as him. All nice and attentive. Probably would bend rules for everybody else.

As his processor started to sort itself out and return to normal, Rodimus let out a deep vent when he noted the angry messages he had received.
And a scheduled meeting with his favourite council members. No doubt there to remind him what an embarrassment he was.

No sense beating around the bush, better to simply get everything over with.

After a quick trip to the refresher, Rodimus submitted himself to the daily polish the priests had to give him.
He was scrubbed gently to have a mirror shine on his kibble, and his spoiler and finials were decorated once more.
They had a different fabric for his spoiler today. Maybe the one he had pulled off it last evening when running through the garden was lost?

Thunderclash had arrived to wait for him at some point, and he looked as normal as ever. As long as he didn't start to give pitying glances, Rodimus would be happy.
It wouldn't do him well for his guard to have any lower opinion of him.

By the time the priests were done with him, he was hurried to one of the side rooms to talk with the council members. Rodimus could hear Thunderclash diligently following behind him all the way to the doors before someone said the guard wasn’t needed for this meeting.

Rodimus steeled himself as much as he could. If Thunders wasn’t invited, it meant he would have to bear some colorful insults for the next hour.

The moment the doors were closed behind him one of the senators started to yell his helm off. Other members were quick to agree or add how Rodimus was disgracing the temple, and sullying the title of Prime with his antics.

The usual.

Until,
"We have to take more drastic measures to contain him. We cannot let there even be a chance for him to kill our titan and burn Iacon to the ground as well!"
Rodimus could feel the energon in his lines burn. He was able to handle every other petty insult about his looks, attitude or actions. But, he wasn’t going to let them twist what happened to Nyon.

"I didn't kill Nyon! I tried to save it!" He yelled back, his frame heating up in his frustration.

"If that is your definition of saving, we should chain you up in the inner sanctum."

"It cared about its people. Nyon wanted me to save as many as possible. It sacrificed itself for its citizens. Nobody could have saved Nyon." Rodimus still tried to reason, desperate for them to understand what had happened. Why he had survived and Nyon hadn't.

"Quiet you! We've had enough of your backtalk."

"You are a danger to the temple and the city. We tolerate you only because the titan wants you."

"Your public stunts undermine the authority of the temple, and we cannot allow that to continue."

There was no use to reason with the council members. They just wanted a scapegoat if something ever went wrong. It still didn't mean Rodimus was going to lie down and let them walk all over him.
"You have no right to command me."

"We have other means of making you behave." A council member waved at the security in the room, who quickly took a hold of Rodimus. Pushing his chassis and helm against the conference table.
The nerve of them!

The bots were marginally bigger than Rodimus so he had no hope of physically pushing them off of him. It still didn't stop him from trying to squirm his way out.

"Consider this our gift and our warning."

His helm was forcibly lifted while someone put what felt like a collar around his neck. With a solid click it was in place and he was let go.
Rodimus took several steps back once he found his pedes again, trying to grab at whatever was on his neck. It was smooth and thin with no obvious purpose.

"We hope you think twice about misbehaving now. After all, we all want what is best for Iacon." The sick smile that was directed at Rodimus made him want to purge his tanks.
He was not the same as these mecha.

"What did you do to me?" Rodimus asked, his servos still around his neck, trying to remove the collar.

"Just a simple reminder for you to behave. Don't worry, it's completely harmless as long as you act like a proper Prime should."

"You SICK fr--- !! Gghh- " Rodimus' voice turned to painful static as he was about to give the councilor a piece of his mind. The pain seared through his entire frame as he choked on his words. Almost losing his balance and falling to the floor.
They had put an inhibitor collar on him, and Rodimus had no idea what else would trigger it.

"We hope you think about your actions Rodimus Prime. And hopefully the next time we see you is for religious purposes only." The other mecha quietly vacated the room, leaving Rodimus to even out his vents.

Fighting back tears Rodimus collected himself. He had barely gotten some of his freedom back, and now he would be punished for anything the council perceived as a slight.

He exited the room, trying not to look as grim as he felt. Only to be faced with Thunderclash. The other disaster he had caused.
Rodimus firmly ignored him and the priests, who all were probably used to his foul moods after meeting with the council. He had a job to do, and now he didn't seem to have a choice but to do it.

Thunderclash faithfully followed him around as he got on with his daily tasks. Speaking up finally when they were alone.
"My Prime, I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn't have entered your quarters when you were so overcharged."

Great, 'Clash was blaming himself for the whole debacle. Like Rodimus' day couldn't get any worse.

"Don't apologize. You weren't the one forcing yourself on someone." He was talking softer than normal, afraid that anything he said would activate the collar.

"But my Prime, it was clearly my mistake for-"

"It wasn't and we both know it. Just because I'm desperate and clingy doesn't…" Rodimus let out a long vent before he got too heated again.
"You left. And nothing happened."

"...Yes, my Prime."

At least Thunders didn't try to argue back. Rodimus didn't want him to see what the new decoration around his neck did. Unless the guard already knew and was trying to bait him to slip up.
...No Thunderclash wouldn't do something like that. He was too nice and perfect for it.

They fell back to silence as Rodimus tried to avoid looking at his new golden collar in any reflections.

--

Whatever the council had said to Rodimus must have been bad. The Prime was now more quiet than ever and even refused to go outside when Thunderclash suggested it.
Rodimus would have never passed up the opportunity to go talk to the citizens.

He wanted to ask about it, but Rodimus had been very tight-lipped for the past week. Even more so than when the Prime had been ignoring him on purpose.

Or maybe Rodimus found him disgusting after that night? Thunderclash had apologized and tried to make amends, but Rodimus had insisted nothing was wrong and all blame could be placed on himself.
Thunderclash didn't think it was necessarily true, no matter what his Prime said.

Their life continued as normal, if even less enthusiastically than before.

It was hard to see Rodimus like this.
He was shining in his golden decorations, but his optics looked like he was wasting away. Had the council threatened him if he stepped foot outside the temple?

Thunderclash often asked if the Prime was alright or if he needed anything. To which he received a nod and some placating words about how the Prime didn't need anything at the moment.
It was clear Rodimus was lying, and it made Thunderclash wish he could do more.

Maybe he could find something for the Prime that didn't require leaving the temple? His friend had yet to visit the temple, so maybe Thunderclash could find the white speedster.
All he needed was to ask for his name or comm link. Surely Rodimus would be happy to give him that information.

That evening Thunderclash followed Rodimus to his quarters. He hadn't visited since that night, but he was sure he wouldn't do anything questionable again. Besides, Rodimus would probably be delighted to borrow a datapad again.

Rodimus wordlessly sat down on a chair after a priest had taken his decorations, his optics vacant as he seemed to be deep in thought.

"My Prime, would you like to use my datapad tonight?" Thunderclash asked once they were left alone. He still kept a respectable distance between them as he held out the datapad Rodimus used.
The Prime looked at him with an expression Thunderclash hadn't seen on the speedster before. He wasn’t sure if he liked that look.

"Mmhm" Rodimus hummed with a slight nod, hesitantly reaching out of the offered device. His servo was trembling slightly as he took hold of the datapad, slow to pull it towards him.

It frankly worried Thunderclash. His Prime was usually quick and bright with everything he did. Now he seemed almost frightful of his loyal guard.

"My Prime, is everything alright?" Thunderclash kneeled down to be eye level with his Prime. It was never a good idea to tower over mechs who were intimidated by him.

Rodimus' optics quickly flickered towards him, more alarm showing on his face.

"I'm fine, Thunderclash." One of his yellow servos absently rose to rub at the seam of the gold jewelry around his neck.
That's odd, the priests usually take all extra jewelry and decorations off. Had they forgotten the necklace?

"The priest forgot to take your choker off, my Prime. Would you like me to help take it off?" Thunderclash leaned forward, trying to see if there was some kind of latch or clasp at the back. Only for Rodimus to jump out of the chair, in a hurry to get away from him.

"No! Don't try to-- 'it-- !!" Horrible static erupted from Rodimus' vocalizer as he desperately held his throat with both of his hands.

Thunderclash watched in horror as Rodimus staggered against a wall, desperately trying to vent properly as his voice crackled.
"What- what has been done to you?" He asked in disbelief. Who could have done something like this? Why was their Prime wearing an inhibitor collar?

The Prime simply shook his head vigorously, hands still covering the collar. He sat down on the floor, optics firmly shut as pain passed over his features.

"When-? I didn't know-- Rodimus, I'm so sorry." Thunderclash didn't know how to process this. This was why the bright shine of his star had dimmed. Right after the private meeting with the council. How cruel could someone be to do something like this.

"Is there a way to take it off?" He wasn’t sure how much Rodimus would be able to answer, but he assumed as long as it wasn't vocal the inhibitor wouldn't activate.
Rodimus shook his head again, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm fine, so far it's only reacted to strong feelings and loud noises. And I think it would be painful if I left the temple." His Prime's voice was so quiet, afraid to cause more pain to himself.

The chances of it being able to be removed by opening a simple clasp seemed to be zero. Most likely Rodimus was still wearing the collar because he wasn’t able to take it off without hurting himself.
Thunderclash didn't know what to do. How could he even help in a situation like this?

"We need to find something to disable it and remove it. We have to tell someone what the council did to you."

"No- no, please. You can't do that."

"You're the Prime. What they've done is akin to treason." Thunderclash moved next to his star, kneeling down and taking a hold of one of the delicate servos.

"They'll just fire you, or- or put a collar on you as well." Rodimus tried his best to hold back his emotions. Brushing the gathering coolant from his optics.
"No, I can handle this. Let's just go back to normal. Soon you won't even notice it."

"I can't do that Rodimus. I can't let them stifle you like this, when you're meant to burn warm and bright like a star." He brought Rodimus' warm servo closer to his chassis and spark, hoping his star understood how much he cared for him.

"Don't say that. Burning like a star is the reason why--" Rodimus took a stabilizing vent. "They don't want me to kill Iacon. That's why I have to wear this."

What did his star mean? Was this because of what happened in Nyon while Rodimus had been the titan's Cityspeaker? How would an inhibitor collar prevent something like that?
"I know you would never hurt anyone on purpose. Whatever the council thinks of you is wrong."

He watched Rodimus shutter his optics and vent several more times. Trying to keep his frame in check before speaking up again.
"I could have done more. I wanted to save Nyon, but it told me to help the citizens escape the burning buildings."

"You did your best. The titan's core was compromised, nothing could have stopped the fires. You saved so many people."

"But I lost-- !!"
Thunderclash felt the shock on his own servo as it coursed through Rodimus, making the speedster flinch back and curl up.
He waited a moment for his star to relax slightly before picking up his servos again to offer some comfort.

"You have to believe me, it wasn't your fault." He tried to reassure Rodimus. Carrying that kind of guilt must feel terrible. Thunderclash could only fathom the pain Rodimus was in.

And yet, his bright star had never let it hinder him. It was admirable.

After a moment again, Rodimus nodded his helm.
"I'll try."

Thunderclash smiled, reaching out to wrap his arms around the red still slightly trembling frame. Rodimus hugged him back weakly.

"I'll help you back on the couch. Maybe some good news will help you find recharge easier." His star nodded in agreement before Thunderclash swiftly lifted the speedster off the floor.

It'll take time, but hopefully soon Rodimus can be himself again.

–-

Chapter Text

--

He had already spent a night getting shocked when he had caved and cried in frustration. Now he understood why Primes had a reputation of being serious and stern.
They weren't allowed to feel anything.

Thunderclash had once suggested asking for Drift to visit, but Rodimus had been avoiding the other speedster for a reason.
The moment Drift saw the collar he would go on a personal mission to find the council member who ordered the collar, find the removal method and then kill everyone involved in the situation. Drift was an assassin for Primus' sake.
He wasn’t about to tell that to Thunders, but explanation about how he didn't want his amica to get involved seemed to be enough.

For now it was just them. And Rodimus was starting to get worried about him thinking of himself and Thunders as them.
They weren't a couple. Thunders was still an eyesore and… and too perfect?

Rodimus really couldn't think up excuses to dislike the Rodimus did his best to get used to the inhibitor. After realizing it couldn't be removed with force he had resigned himself to his fate.
And after Thunderclash had found out, it did become easier. Even if Thunders was adamant about getting it removed.

They could fall back to their normal routine, except this time he had no hope of running away for an evening. Or spend any time outside of the gates.
Besides that, Rodimus could learn to be content. All he had to do was make sure he didn't raise his voice or get too emotional about anything.

larger mech anymore. As 'Clash seemed to be genuinely worried about the situation.
It didn't help how Thunderclash had done all those nice things for him before all of this inhibitor stuff. And really, it was unfair how handsome a mech could be. Cybertron would know no peace if Thunders chose a more subtle paint job.

"Would you like to go to your quarters, my Prime?" Thunderclash asked when Rodimus had finished his final task for the day. Subtly hinting that Rodimus would be able to use a datapad tonight if he wanted. At least that was what the question usually meant.

Rodimus nodded with a slight hum, still getting used to the limits of the inhibitor. Sometimes it felt extremely sensitive to his moods and other times he could almost forget about it. He really hoped he wouldn't get shocked tonight.
His wires felt tingly and filled with static for hours after a more powerful shock. It was uncomfortable to try and recharge afterwards.

They made their way to Rodimus' quarters as calmly as possible. The priest took off the extra jewelry by his door, once again leaving the collar untouched. They must have known what it was, or someone on the council told them not to tamper with it. Probably saying it was an artefact or something similar.

"I really hope something good has happened outside. Primus knows nothing interesting happens inside the temple." Rodimus said when he and Thunderclash were finally behind closed doors.
He stretched his upper body and spoiler as he made his way to the plush couches.

"A Tetrahexian celebration is approaching, so there might be something about this year's decorations." Thunderclash reached into his subspace, pulling out the familiar datapad for Rodimus. Easily handing it over as Rodimus laid down on the couch.

"And I– uhh…" The guard hovered for a moment clearly contemplating something when he didn't sit down like usual. Rodimus looked at him curious, not sure what to expect.
Thunderclash cleared his intake before continuing.
"I also brought some snacks for you.I wasn’t sure if you liked sweets or more spicy ones, so I brought both."

Thunderclash brought him food?
Rodimus shuttered his optics several times before he fully processed the information.
Thunderclash brought him food!

He sat up as it was his turn to figure out what to say.
"I'm– I mean, both – are fine?" Rodimus was at a loss for words, it has been such a long time since someone wanted to share food with him. Especially treats.
"You didn't have to bring any food, you know. The temple makes sure I'm fueled."

"Oh… I suppose so. But, I simply thought it would be a nice change. Considering everything."

"Yeah! I totally get you. I'd like to have some." Rodimus was quick to explain himself further. He didn't want to come off as ungrateful or seem like he didn't want any snacks.

He moved to make space for his guard on the couch. Patting the now empty cushion as an invite.
"Well, come on then. Easier to share if we sit next to each other."

Thunderclash obediently sat down and held out both of the energon snacks to Rodimus. He immediately went for the spicy ones, opening the container before popping a small solidified cube into his mouth.

It melted quickly in the solvents of his mouth, leaving a fun prickling sensation behind. Rodimus had really missed these.
He rarely indulged, and as of late he hadn't even been able to get his servos on anything fun. Even the engex he got during his little escapades hadn't been anything fancy.

"Here, have a few if you like the spicy ones." Rodimus held out the little container to Thunderclash, after picking out another colorful cube out for himself.

"No thank you." The multicolored truck had opened the sweet package and lifted it up to Rodimus. He took the offered container as he set the spicy ones aside. Not everyone liked the different mineral composition or sensation of them, and Thunderclash did seem pretty vanilla.

The sweet treats were just as good as he remembered. Especially after eating a spicy one.
Rodimus had to bite down on his glossa to keep himself from making any weird noises, and also to keep his emotions in check. He didn't want to ruin the evening again by getting shocked. Though Thunders never blamed him for feeling things.

"You have to try these. It's a really good flavor." He held out the little box to his guard again. Offering to share them.

"Ah, no thanks. I bought them for you. I'll just feel bad if I eat what little you can have." Thunderclash declined again, pushing the sweets back towards the Prime.

Rodimus frowned slightly when the food offer was refused. He thought they were friends, so why didn't Thunders want to eat the sweets with him?
Was he missing some Iaconian custom here, or was Thunders just dense?
"So, what? I should just eat these all by myself?"

Thunderclash nodded with a smile, confusing Rodimus even more.
"Yes, I think you deserve something nice for yourself."

"But… It's food, and you know I fuel regularly?"

"...Yes?"

"So you should definitely take some of them." Rodimus pushed the box towards Thunderclash again, rattling the gelatinous cubes slightly.

The guard laughed and shook his head, finally reaching to take some of the sweets.
"You are really twisting my arm here."

"I'd be a terrible friend if I kept all of the food for myself."

"I wouldn't think that at all. I gave these to you as a gift."

Rodimus thought about it for a moment. Realizing that sharing food wasn’t really a thing in Iacon. Meanwhile in Nyon, especially after the burning of the city, it was selfish not to share what little fuel you were able to find with your family and friends.
More often than not Rodimus had given away most of his own fuel to the less fortunate. He knew he could get by. Others weren't as lucky.

"In Nyon, sharing food was important." He blurted out while Thunderclash finally ate one of the small cubes.
"We didn't have a lot, so hoarding food was selfish and inconsiderate… I guess I just, still think like that." Rodimus looked down, fiddling with the container in his hands.

He didn't exactly want to admit he was a guttermech, but he had a feeling Thunderclash would understand and not judge him.

"Rodimus… I'm so sorry, I didn't know." Thunderclash rested a gentle servo on Rodimus' shoulder.

"Well, I mean– you've never lived in Nyon so, how could you have known?" Though according to Drift, sharing fuel was common among guttermech friend groups everywhere on Cybertron. It wasn't specific to Nyon.

He frowned as he rubbed the collar around his neck. It probably won't be a good idea to talk more about the time after the fire. It was still difficult to think about those years.

"Does the collar hurt?" Thunderclash asked suddenly. His digits were rubbing small patterns on the bright red kibble.

"No, it's not the worst accessory I've worn." Well it was, but it was fairly unobtrusive when it wasn't trying to fry his processor.
"I just probably shouldn't talk about, you know, stuff like that. I still don't know what the limits are on this thing." He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his voice and emotions even.

"I see." His guard patted his shoulder a few times before moving the big and warm hand away.
"Well, if it makes you happy I'd love to share the snacks with you." Thunderclash smiled brightly as he reached for the other snack container. Holding it up for Rodimus again.

Rodimus smiled back eagerly, taking a spicy cube and then offering one of the sweet ones to the eyesore of a mech next to him.
His blinding smile was not helping the situation at all.

"It will make me very happy to share my fuel with you."

–

He had a difficult time keeping his emotions level when his guard chose to be affectionate and caring. Of course they were both professional and kept a respectable distance outside, but in Rodimus' quarters they could be close.
Thunders offered comforting hugs if Rodimus had slipped and gotten shocked. He would also often hold his servos, promising to find a way to make everything right.

Simply being close to Thunderclash gave Rodimus hope that everything he had to do right now was temporary. Eventually the council would remove the inhibitor, and then he would be able to feel again.

It was their secret. Their small comfort.
And it made Rodimus happy.

"My dearest Prime, this is a feeling I have not encountered for a long time." Iacon said as Rodimus had been going through his chores in the inner sanctum.

"What?"

"Your mind wanders to someone. Someone who brings you joy." The titan mused, and it was possibly the first time Rodimus had heard it be amused.

"I guess, but we probably shouldn't… talk about that." He reached out to rub at the smooth metal on his neck, a habit he really should curb.

"Rodimus Prime, there is nothing wrong with being happy. My own siblings, no matter our disagreements, bring me joy as well." This was so unexpected. Iacon had never before responded like this.

Still dread was starting to fill Rodimus' lines. He wasn’t supposed to feel. That's what the council wanted. Why would the titan choose to bring all of this up now when he was trying to hold back how much he lov--

Rodimus tried to yell in alarm as the inhibitor turned on, making him spit out static. He fell onto his knees as the pain coursed through his frame and processor. Every sensor screamed in agony.

"Rodimus?" He could vaguely hear the titan in his processor. The volume of the shock had been so intense that he was afraid one of his optics would burn out.

"What is wrong with my dearest Prime?!" Hot anger flashed through his frame as the titan took a hold of him. Making the collar send out more shocks to make him stop.

Rodimus was thrust from searing pain to hollow emptiness. Iacon was in control of his sensors and frame now completely. And he would have to hope he would still have a functioning frame to return to once the titan inevitably let go of him.

He was left in his and the titan's shared memories now.
Pictures of the previous Primes filtered through to him. It was still amazing how big Optimus actually was. He had hoped to meet the previous Prime again after Nyon, but it seemed it wasn't meant to happen.

He could also see his memories of Nyon. One of Iacon's siblings. All this time Iacon had known what really happened. Knew why Rodimus had left Nyon's side. And it didn't blame him, simply understood why its sibling had chosen to sacrifice itself.
They all shared a love for the people of Cybertron.

Unsure how much time had passed or how much longer he would stay here, he brought up a memory of an evening with Thunderclash. One where he didn't have the collar on. They were both sitting in the living area, Thunders had just shown him a clip of a Camien play he had seen some time ago.

It was a comfortable memory, and Rodimus wanted nothing more than to curl up to enjoy a night like that again.

Maybe next time he would be able to say how he feels.

--

The ground had shook violently just moments ago. Leaving everyone in the temple confused and alarmed.
An earthquake in a titan city meant only one thing. Iacon was trying to move.

Thunderclash hadn't been stationed far from the inner sanctum. All he knew was that Rodimus was still in there and he would be the only one to know what was wrong with their titan.

He watched priests and other guards running through the corridors. Nobody seemed to know what exactly had happened, or why. The sounds from the city traveled to the temple. Everyone else was just as scared.
It was not often a titan decided to move. And there rarely was a peaceful reason for it.

As time went on and Rodimus had still yet to emerge from the inner sanctum, Thunderclash became worried. The titan hadn't moved again, but people would be expecting an explanation from the Cityspeaker. Their Prime.

Maybe Rodimus knew it as well, and simply chose to stay in the sanctum? Nobody else but the Prime and Cityspeaker were allowed to enter after all.

Small tremors went through the city again as day became night.
Priests, council members and other clergy had come to ask Thunderclash where the Prime was. He was quick to turn them away when he said Rodimus was in the inner sanctum. Thunderclash might have been more forceful with the heated politicians than necessary.

After hours of his vigil, Thunderclash was approached by someone who wasn’t part of the temple or an Iaconian politician.

"I take it you are the Prime's appointed guard? Highly unusual position." The white and black mech spoke in a calculated tone, measuring Thunderclash up.
The stark red markings of a Cityspeaker spurred him to greet the mech as customary.

"Yes, my designation is Thunderclash, I ensure the safety of our Prime. Currently I stand guard to make sure nobody unauthorized enters the sanctum." He bowed deeply to pay his respect to the Cityspeaker.
Thunderclash wondered if the council had sent for another Cityspeaker to come find out why Iacon moved, since they weren't getting answers from him or Rodimus.

"I see. I am not intimately familiar with your code, but I am sure we are allowed in the sanctum." The mech said lifting his doorwings slightly, somehow appearing intimidating even when Thunders towered over him.

"We?" He asked in confusion. Had this mech plans to bring more people with him?

"Praxus and I, Prowl of Petrex the Vessel of Praxus. We have come to see why his spark sibling is so distressed." Ah, he should have guessed Prowl was Praxian.

Nothing in the code mentioned titan consciousness, but Thunderclash would have to assume it went along with allowing Cityspeakers in the sanctum in the first place.

"As a Cityspeaker, and Iacon's spark brother, you are allowed to enter the sanctum." He bowed again as he stepped aside for the Praxian to move past him. He received a simple nod in return before Prowl quickly disappeared behind the doors.

Not long after another apparent Cityspeaker wandered towards him.
This Cityspeaker was tall and blue, possibly some aquatic alt mode. Thunderclash couldn't really tell.
"Are you here to request access to the inner sanctum as well?"

"Who? Me?" The blue mech asked surprised, pointing at himself. As if he hadn't been expecting to be spoken to.
"I dunno, Polyhex just told me to come here, and I quote, 'to be nosey'. Which I think is a joke since I don't have a nasal ridge." This mech was even weirder than Prowl. And why were the titans sending their Cityspeakers here? Was the situation really that dire?

"I'm sure one of the priests can escort you somewhere to wait for news. Rodimus Prime and Cityspeaker Prowl are currently in the inner sanctum." He tried to be as polite as he could, with his own fraying emotional state getting worse by the hour.

"Oh yeah, you guys call your titan talker Prime. I'm just a Cityspeaker. Riptide, by the way." Riptide held out his servo to Thunderclash.

"Nice to meet you considering the circumstances. I am Thunderclash, the Prime's guard." He shook the offered servo before the Polyhexian Cityspeaker continued his wandering through the temple.

He had to wonder if any other Cityspeakers were going to show up. Or if only the neighboring titans had sent their delegation.

--

He felt exhausted. Which was odd since he was sure he had fallen asleep at some point. Could he even recharge like this?
It was starting to worry him how long he had spent in the back of his processor. Or maybe it's been just minutes?
Rodimus wouldn't know. All he could expect was the disarming feeling of confusion when he was finally returned to his frame.

"There you are. You did quite a number on Iacon." He recognized the voice and was not too thrilled about hearing it in his head.

"Not a good time Prowl. You are one of the last bots I want to see right now… or hear." He crossed his arms with a huff, at least he thought he would do that if he was able.

"Set aside your personal feelings, I am here as the Vessel of Praxus." Prowl was a Cityspeaker? Well that was news to Rodimus.
"The inhibitor has been removed and I am here to guide you back to your frame."

"I don't know how you are qualified to do that, but I do want my frame back."

"Praxus spends more time in my frame than I do, it was a necessity for me to learn how to navigate the mind of a titan." They were in a titan's processor? How far back had Iacon pushed him?

"As long as I don't get stuck with you in my head…"

Prowl didn't waste time answering him, instead starting to pull Rodimus with him through the titan consciousness. The feeling was surreal, as if they were moving yet standing still.

The push to his own processor was painful to say the least. It's like he had drunk an entire bottle of nightmare fuel and then stuck a circuit booster right into his helm.

"Oouch, what the frag happened here?" Rodimus whined and took a hold of his helm. He was now in his usual avatar when going through his processor.

"Aside from an inhibitor frying your circuits and a titan knocking you offline? I do think this mess is simply your processor." Prowl appeared in an avatar as well, giving Rodimus something to focus on finally.

"Really funny." His frame was still in the process of onlining, so that seemed to be good.

"Not that I don't appreciate all of this, but how did you even get here?" He asked as they waited for something to happen.

"A cortical psychic patch. I am keeping you here until Windblade has confirmed your status and disconnects us." Somehow Prowl seemed like he was even more stiff than usual. Had he stuck another pipe up his aft or something?

"Okay, anything else I should know?" Rodimus would prefer to be prepared, just in case he had actually burned Iacon down while he had been unconscious. Which seemed impossible, but he wasn’t going to write it off just yet.

"Other than general panic from the populus that a titan just moved, I would assume everything is fine."

"Moved? What do you mean moved?"

"Iacon was quite upset with your status, so it moved. Which in turn alarmed the other titans, as Iacon is not known for aggression."

"Primus, this isn't good."

"To put it mildly. Thankfully Praxus was able to calm Iacon down enough to get you some medical help."

At least it was good to know the city was still intact. And not on fire.

"While I am here, could you tell me why there was an inhibitor collar on you? I have my theories, but it would be good to get your statement." There was the good old Prowl. Can't waste a second without working, even if he wasn’t an enforcer anymore.

"The council forced me to wear it. I couldn't tell you their names, never asked for them, but I can describe what the people who were there looked like."

"No need, you can simply pull up the memory file and show me."

"Oh right…"

Prowl seemed to recognize the politicians and their assistants. If they had been in their bodies Rodimus was sure he'd jot something down on a datapad.

"And what about Thunderclash? He was appointed by the council after all."

"He didn't know about the inhibitor… well he did. But just because I told him. He wasn’t involved. If anything, he wanted to get rid of it more than I did." He knew he was panicking, but Rodimus didn't want Thunders to be blamed for any of this. When the eyesore of a mech had been there to make the experience marginally more tolerable.

Prowl didn't comment on the situation further, simply continuing to wait.
Rodimus had to nervously keep any questions or comments to himself. Prowl wasn’t exactly the mech you went for small talk or reassurance. And he knew there was nothing else to do than wait.

Some time later Prowl's avatar disappeared and Rodimus felt his own frame onlining.

Ouch, yeah. Prowl hadn't been kidding about getting his circuits fried. He felt like he'd been shot with a fusion cannon.
He groaned as he tried to online his optics. Hearing vague sounds around him as his audials adjusted to the right frequency.

"Take it easy. There's no reason to hurry."

"He is a speedster, what did you expect?"

"I informed him of the situation, and according to--"

"Come on Prowl, that can wait until Rodimus can walk."

"Hm.."

He didn't recognize most of the voices, and he was a little alarmed by how many people were in… whatever room he was in now.

"I can h- -ear you, m' opticszz just fe- -el a little bust'd." Rodimus said, even when his voice was a staticy mess.

"You were given medical grade some time ago, it should help with getting your optics back online." A gentle voice spoke next to him. Could be a medic he didn't recognize or someone else Prowl brought with him.

"My Prime! You're finally awake!" Came the boisterous voice of Thunderclash as something big grabbed a hold of Rodimus.

"Pr- -imus! Thunderss! I can't see." He jumped as he was pulled to a big warm hug. The truck was clearly overwhelmed with emotions.

"I'm so sorry my star, I knew the collar would end up hurting you, and I still did nothing. Will you ever forgive me, Rodimus?"

"'Clash, wh- -at are 'ou talking about?" He tried to pat his guard's back reassuringly, despite his frame still feeling like it had been flattened under a steamroller.
"I have no ide- -a what's ha- -ppening." At least the static was starting to clear up.

"Thunderclash please, let go of the Cityspeaker. He needs a few more hours to recover."

"Ye- -ah, gotta listen to the docbot." Rodimus smiled despite not really knowing which way he should face his helm. Glad to be slowly and gently lowered back to the berth he had been on.

The bot who had spoken next to him laughed, finding his comment amusing.
"I'm afraid I'm not a medical professional. My name is Windblade and I am the Cityspeaker of Metroplex." Prowl had mentioned her before. Well, Rodimus was glad he now had a… voice to match the name.

"It is highly recommended to leave Rodimus to recover in peace." Prowl said somewhere on the other side of the room.
"Besides, the rest of us have meetings to attend and criminals to catch."

"We have to attend meetings? I was never told that was part of the job." Another mech Rodimus didn't recognize mumbled, making him stifle a laugh. He could only imagine the look Prowl was giving this person.

"Prowl is right. We have work to do." Windblade spoke up before anyone else in the room would start to argue or voice their own comments.
"Rodimus, I'll leave Thunderclash to watch over you if you're okay with it?"

"Yes." He nodded quickly, listening to the people vacate the room. He was still unsure where exactly he was, since the berth didn't feel like the ostentatious thing in his room.
He could hear hushed talking before the door was closed. Thunderclash's familiar steps approached him again.

"I'm so glad you are alive, my star. I don't know exactly what happened, but they said Iacon made sure your frame didn't break." Thunders sat on the berth close to him, familiar soft hands taking a hold of his.

"It took control of my frame, and probably knocked it offline soon after. I can't really tell you much else. I spent the entire time in Iacon's processor." Rodimus shrugged slightly, holding back 'Clash's hands. Only Iacon and Praxus probably knew what exactly happened.
"Is Iacon alright?"

"Iacon is fine, though still distressed over what happened. The other Cityspeakers have tried to talk with it." Thunderclash's steady presence was calming, even if Rodimus would have liked to be able to see him.

"Did it really move?"

"Yes, but there was no major damage. Only personal items were broken because of the shaking."

"...I can't believe I completely missed it."

"Rodimus!" Thunderclash let out a hearty laugh, pulling the Prime closer to him.

"What? It's a historical moment, and now I'll probably never experience it." He couldn't help but to smile as well. Resting his helm on the broad chassis next to him.

–-