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There was something in his field of vision. Something black, and wavering. The moment his optics focused, he realised he was staring at his own trembling servos. His audials were registering something, but it felt far, far away. He wasn’t sure whether he was standing up or lying down; his gyroscopic calibration was still off.
“Optimus!” He’d recognize that voice anywhere, could pick it out of millions in a crowd or on a battlefield. Anticipating trouble he turned, and yes. It was him. It was always him. Megatron was running towards him, but there was no fury, no real urgency in his steps. He looked almost surprised to see Optimus.
He didn’t even know how his blaster had got into his servo, combat protocols running without conscious volition, but his marksmanship hadn’t let him down; he was pointing it directly at Megatron’s spark. “Stay back!” he shouted, his plating flaring in agitation. He was disoriented and weak, and he wasn’t sure this was a fight he could win but it was nothing he hadn’t done before. He would fight Megatron regardless of the cost to himself.
Megatron stopped dead in his tracks, Optimus was pointing a blaster at him, very convincingly. If the mech hadn’t been trembling all over, Megatron could have been fooled by the speed of his responses into thinking that steady aim posed a real problem. As it was, he knew better. Optimus couldn’t fight him in that state.
Megatron stopped and raised his servos in surrender. “I am unarmed, Optimus. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Optimus’s optics flared, almost in outrage and fixed on his arm cannon… Ah, of course- he’d died when it was still a weapon. “Don’t shoot,” he said evenly as his servos slowly lowered towards the catches holding it in place
Optimus aimed at the former weapon, optics overbright, they showed no fear, no… Optimus had never feared him. There was anger and confusion. There was a whirlwind of emotions between them, always, but never fear. Still, he held his fire as Megatron half-knelt, and the cannon fell to the ground.
“STAY BACK, MEGATRON” The blaster was levelled once again at Megatron’s spark. If Optimus shot him at this range he would be dead; the Prime was one of the best marksmechs Megatron had ever met.
“Optimus…” he tried, his voice low, his optics pleading, reaching out through his field. It didn’t help; Optimus’ own field was a mess and the mech didn’t even seem to register his presence, much less his intentions.
“NOT ANOTHER STEP, MEGATRON!” Optimus took a step back as Megatron slowly pushed himself to his feet.
“Optimus, please. It’s all over, let me tend to your wounds.” Optimus didn’t look seriously injured, but his frame was an absolute mess - scratched, dented, listing. There was dried energon on it too, but Megatron wasn’t sure whether it was his or someone else’s.
“IT’S NOT OVER, DON’T LIE TO ME,” Optimus shouted once again, “it’s never over” he added quietly, his optics wandering from Megatron to focus on his blaster’s aiming point. Somehow he was having trouble doing that, his vision kept turning blurry at the smallest shift of his frame. He was not going to win this fight.
“It’s never over…” anguish washed over Optimus, so suddenly it almost swept him to the ground. It was never over, never, and here was the proof; he was here once again, Megatron was still here, and he would - he must - still fight him.
Even if he wouldn’t win.
Especially if he wouldn’t win.
Maybe it was his misguided hope leading him once again. The thought of losing now didn’t bring the dread that coming back to life once again had.
Why? Why? Why? Why? It didn’t make sense- He couldn’t possibly have survived Unicron- he wasn’t supposed to. Why was he still here!? He had died! He had been sure he was dead this time, so why was he here? What mission did Primus have for him - what else was there to do? Why was Megatron still alive too? Where were they, and why was Megatron looking at him like that?
He was tired. He was so tired, his blaster felt impossibly heavy in his servos; the barrel drooped towards the ground and he couldn’t bring himself to care that it wasn’t covering Megatron any more. The tremors in his plating intensified until his whole frame was shaking in… he wasn’t even sure why it was shaking.
Megatron’s dark servo came to rest gently, deceitfully, upon his, Optimus let the useless blaster fall and closed his servos into fists. “Optimus…” Megatron’s voice was so close to his audials, so impossibly soft, it made his tanks twist.
Weak as he was, Optimus Prime was still not to be underestimated; that was an error Megatron had never made, throughout their long history. Yet somehow, this time, he was totally unprepared when a blue fist collided with the side of his face.
“YOU BASTARD!” Optimus kicked him right in his abdominal vents. “What did you do this time!?” Another punch, buckling the plating on his chest. Optimus still hadn’t noticed he wasn’t fighting back.
“ANSWER ME, MEGATRON!” Optimus punched his other cheek with equal fury, and Megatron finally fell back a couple of steps, then slowly rose as the attacks seemed to have ceased.
The Prime was just looking at him, desperately; it was another expression he was acquainted with, but he’d never seen it quite like this. Never so vulnerable.
“Why?” Optimus asked “WHY!?” he screamed, his vocalizer almost cutting out. Or maybe that burst of static was a sob; Megatron couldn’t be sure from behind that mask.
“WHY CAN’T I EVER DIE?” Optimus finally said it out loud, Megatron had been on the receiving end of that question a long time ago… and truth be told he didn’t have an answer for either of them. It was just something he had come to accept.
Optimus sobbed. That was unmistakably a sob. He clutched at his vocalizer to no avail, unable to choke it back. Megatron could only watch as his counterpart dropped heavily to his knees and then slammed his fists into the ground as he kept screaming “Why”. After a few moments he stopped, seeming to grasp the futility of his actions, but he kept staring down at his digits as they clawed into the dirt.
“I’d accepted it. I was ready. I was dead. Why am I back here again?” He was whispering it, more to himself than anybody else.
Megatron’s spark hurt, seeing Optimus like that; whatever lows his own life might have achieved, Optimus was brought lower now, and Megatron couldn’t stand it. He got up, expecting another beating for what he was about to do, but he didn’t care. He would take that and so much more, because if it weren’t for the pain of seeing Optimus hurting like that he wouldn’t have been able to contain his joy. Optimus was there, with him, with everyone else, he- he was there. And Megatron would never let him go, ever again.
“Optimus, it’s over” Megatron tentatively embraced the shivering frame of his long time rival. Optimus tensed but didn’t fight him. “I promise, it’s all over. The war, Unicron, me, everything. You will never have to lose anything ever again.” Those were not false promises, that was tentative optimism.
“Please, Optimus, join me on the Lost Light and I’ll show you. I promise you, I’ll show you… just- please don’t leave me once again. Let me be selfish one last time, please just come with me.” He held Optimus tight, breathing the words against trembling plating.
“I’m tired, Megatron” it answered all and nothing, but Megatron understood.
“I know, Optimus, I know. I’m sorry, you were right, but please just- let me show it to you. Give me one last chance. Give yourself one last chance, for everything-“ he pleaded. “Please”
They stayed like that for a while, unmoving save for Optimus’ tremors. Megatron’s field was a mess too, at this point. He saw Optimus’ arm move, and had to force himself not to flinch, not to ready himself for another fight. He was rewarded: it didn’t happen. Optimus just let his head fall back against Megatron’s plating and his blue servo lightly grazed a black one.
“You promise?” he whispered.
“With all my spark, I do. I promise.” Megatron couldn’t help the little smile that was threatening to form. Could he hope? Could he hope one last time?
“I trust you.” Maybe - maybe they could both hope.