Chapter Text
The shuttle rattled beneath Optimus as he passed through yet another asteroid field. The small creaks of the ship allowed unease to slip into his EM field. The ship, named Pontis, was far more rickety than he would have liked, but it would have suited a shorter trip quite well. Unfortunately, Optimus had greatly underestimated the travel time.
It had been well over a Stellar cycle since his departure, and well over a decade since oh-so tiredly taking a dive into the Well of Allsparks.
Optimus hummed. For a moment, he felt peace. For a moment he felt everything, everywhere, all at once. And it was spectacularly underwhelming. Nothing to oppose, nothing to fight, nothing separate, as he became one.
Then it was gone.
Primus denied him retirement and, on top of that, kept the Matrix. Optimus wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Optimus looked down at the cube in his servos, which he had slowly been working on. He tilted it, allowing his optics to catch the reflection of the stars outside. At least it was quiet here. No one to pester him over newly implemented road tolls or housing supplements. He was tired, he wanted to rest, he was denied.
So he left, on amicable terms, under the guise of bringing in a Warlord in cuffs. One that had been minding his own business for a decade longer than expected. But Cybertron was weary, and the idea of that mech returning was very unwelcome indeed. So Optimus set out, not just to bring them peace, but himself as well.
Optimus rested the cube on the armrest of the chair. It clinked softly as it collided with the metal.
Small silver beads rolled across the uneven floor, some lumpy and some rusted. Megatronus critiqued his aim.
“Aim for the red one Orion, not the door!” Megatronus chuffed before tossing down his beads one after another. Soft clinks reached their audials as they hit the floor and bounced.
Orion Pax was sure the mech had overshot as the beads rolled further and further past the rusted red one. That was before one rebounded off the wall and rolled up snugly beside the target.
Orion frowned from where he sat on the berth; he had lost. He flicked back his audial fins in bitter denial. “You didn’t specify we could use the walls.” He started stiffly, straightening up with an air of pride, lest Megatronus thought he was serious.
“The rules are simple dearest,” Megatronus started, and Orion couldn't help but agree. Roll the beads as close as you can to the other, closest wins. “What you choose to do with them is up to you.”
“It’s a silly game.” Orion pouted in false conviction as Megatronus slinged an arm around him, pulling him closer. “Ep!” He lost balance and flopped onto his thigh.
It was a silly game, simply to pass the time and entertain some banter for the evening. They were confined to rather stationary activities, given the injuries Megatronus had sustained in his fight. He had won, but it was closer than Orion would have liked. He was in a sombre mood because of it.
But what could one do with so few resources? Pretend the beads to be sentient so they could hold conversation? Megatronus had laughed that suggestion out of his processor.
Orion thought it would have been fun.
Optimus tapped his cube again, somewhat surprised at how something so mundane could trigger a pleasant memory. He used to be annoyed at the memory recalls, his chassis getting tight in grief, but he was no longer fighting the mech that was often within them.
How sad it was, what became of them. Optimus looked out at the stars from the Pontis’ front and only window. Megatron was there, somewhere. Optimus wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found him. Arrest him? He felt there was no need to detain a remorseful mech.
Talk? Talking sounded nice. Perhaps they’d talk about the small things? The way they used to after a particularly draining debate, after dropping the politics and revolution-inspiring ideas, after dropping the masks they wore before strangers. The way they talked at the end of the day, when it was just the two of them.
Would Megatron want that? Optimus wouldn’t be surprised if the war had spoiled that. It should have spoiled it for Optimus.
Lazily, he charted the ship's course, avoiding the keys that had ceased to function or were on their way out. Optimus didn’t want to press a key twenty times before it registered, he had the time for it, sure, but not the will.
Optimus timed the ship to hop during his recharge cycle as he often found himself dizzy if he was conscious of it. He would be arriving somewhere in the Local Arm of the galaxy. Optimus didn’t care much for the specifics. As long as he wasn’t warping into a star or planet, he would be content. It was surprising how well the quantum engines of the ship were holding up. He was very appreciative of them indeed, but Optimus wasn’t going to thank the engines just yet, he wasn’t that lonely.
He checked over the course he set a few more times, making sure wherever he ended up wouldn’t subject him to spontaneous melting or combustion, before moving back to the smallest room within the Pontis. The room he designated as his quarters.
•
As he woke, the first thing Optimus had to deal with was whatever was causing coolant to gather at his pedes. A leak, obviously. The question was where. He would figure out the ‘why’ once he found it.
It was simple really, follow the trail of wet floor. It led him to the washracks, a tight room of the ship with a surprising amount of shelves. Optimus had taken to dumping whatever supplements he picked up here. The room seemed quite cluttered now.
He found the leak in the wall, a slow drizzle originating from a rusted crack. Optimus sighed and fetched a grinder before getting to work.
Orion Pax hit the air conditioner with the wrench for a third time. Trying to coax it into working through his displeasure. Kaon was hot, and Megatronus was unhappy. The mech had kicked it once before deeming it unrecoverable.
Orion was a little more hopeful. He raised it and shook the contraption, but it was a bit heavy for him to do so comfortably, and he dropped it. It turned back on, humming softly.
“Ha!” He let out, turning to Megatronus like a mad scientist. The gunmetal mech straightened up, likely not believing his audials. Orion tossed the wrench aside, he forgot where he found it.
Megatronus trotted over three full steps across the room, designated his quarters, and stared at Orion’s handiwork. Orion stood all too pleased beside it. “Luck.” He let out.
“Luck?” Orion started, feigning offence through theatrics. “It was skill!”
“You shook it.” Megatronus argued, offering a downward smile while pointing at the source of both their relief and conflict.
“I used a wrench.” Orion added smugly, arguing for the fun of it, he knew it was luck. “And through finesse I-”
“Whacked it?”
“Yes indeed!” Orion had to admit to that of course, Megatronus was watching. The grey mech slumped down beside the machine, some cool air already making its way around.
Orion followed him down dramatically with a laugh, “What would you do without me?”
The answer was surprisingly fast. “Complain.” Megatronus let out gruffly. “I’d be wholly miserable—” He pulled Orion in, earning a small squeak from an otherwise mostly dignified mech.
“I’m warm—you’re warm,” Orion started. What was the point in fixing that box if all they were going to do was bask in each other's engine heat? “Not that I’m complaining.” He added, although he was complaining, just a little. The gladiator was very cuddly (which was not something he was going to say aloud).
Megatronus nipped Orion’s audial with his denta, earning himself a generous amount of steam in the faceplate. “Ack!”
Orion let out a flustered honk.
Optimus stared at his patchwork as if it were flirting with him. It wasn’t, he got back to work. Another memory then, they were becoming more frequent, but he didn’t mind. He walked away for a moment to fetch a welder, having found the rusted pipe and having patched it up, all he needed to do was weld the wall back over it.
He found it and got back to it. It was easy enough. He heated up the surrounding metal first, accounting for heat dissipation, before concentrating the heat at the cut lines. Once finished, he stowed the tools away and found himself a cube that would hopefully last him the next Joor if he sipped slowly enough. He had nothing else to do.
He once again sat himself down at the head of the ship, glancing out at the stars before checking the console.
He paused.
The smallest monitor displayed a dot. A Cybertronian life signature on a small rocky planet.
Normally that would have been quite standard. Cybertronians have been scattered to the stars for quite a while due to the war, but this monitor was linked to a long-range scanner with a very specific set of scripts Optimus had programmed. One that should pick up any traces of dark energon
So either the lonely lifeform was Megatron, or Optimus had to consider re-learning code. He wasn’t keen on the latter, so he hoped for the former.
He slowly plotted out another hop to the solar system the signature originated from, trying not to let excitement or nervousness drip into his field. He ought to be a little more cautious, instead of eager, for all he knew, Megatron may be quite content to discharge a few bullets.
Optimus hoped not as he checked over the coordinates. All seemed in order, all he needed to do now was wait. The quantum engines were still warm, and Optimus was feeling slightly woozy from the last hop. He leaned back in his chair, feeling awake, as he gazed out at the stars.
•
As the evening came and went, Optimus found himself impatient. The engines were still too hot, and since he did not want to blow up, he would need to wait till (what his internal chronometer designated as) morning.
He let out a huff, reflecting on his own impatience as he did from time to time. He found himself more emotional now with the Matrix gone, and it wasn’t all that unwelcome. If anything, it felt natural. He wandered back to his berth. He found it somewhat odd how many still referred to him as Prime, despite the babble that granted him the title now being gone.
He chalked it up to habit. Just ‘Optimus’ sounded fine, perhaps he may even go back to Orion. It was his name, he could reclaim it.
“Librarian!” Megatronus hollered as he strolled over, his legs powerful and propelling him forward through the market and the surrounding crowd. Orion Pax was waiting a distance off, happy to wait out the fans that were pleading for the attention of a mech Orion had stolen away so long ago.
Well, a few Stellar cycles ago. It sure felt longer however, and Orion hoped it would last forever.
“So slow to congratulate me!” Megatronus teased, smothering Orion in a hug before he could resist (not that he would).
“I'm half the size of most mechs here!” Orion argued, still smiling widely, “How do you suggest I get through?”
Megatronus clicked his glossa, the answer escaping him. "Hm.” He let out, and Orion knew he was as stumped as he was.
“Thought so.” He said, rather pridefully, before grabbing the gladiator’s servo and dragging him away from the crowd. “Now come on, let's celebrate!”
“Oh? You have something planned dearest?” Megatronus leaned forward with open curiosity, now level with Orion and probably trying to land a kiss. Orion was content to tease him.
“Mmm!” Orion was right, he ducked under as Megatronus swooped down, before reemerging on the mech's other side. “Missed!”
Unwilling to be thwarted a second time, Megatronus decided to deploy his arms—a foolproof tactic—that even Orion could not escape. That kiss landed.
Optimus stared at the ceiling from where he lay, pondering if these memories follow him to his dreams. Perhaps they do, but he finds he often can’t remember what he dreams of the more awake he becomes.
He couldn’t remember what they were celebrating at the time, but he could recall taking Megatronus out to dine. The energon was good, he liked that.
Optimus once again wondered if Megatron remembered these moments, if he enjoyed them, or pushed them aside. He’d been alone for quite a while now, if a lack of Ex-Warlord sightings was anything to go by, so it was reasonable to assume his mind would be keeping him preoccupied.
Were they pleasant or unpleasant thoughts, Optimus had no idea.
•
Optimus found himself awake rather early as he stumbled back to the console in a half-awake haze. He was pleased to see the engines had cooled to safe levels and decided to execute the journey he had plotted the day prior.
He paused his digit over the controls, staring at it blankly before realising his hesitation. It departed as soon as it came, but the cause of it lingered. Optimus was nervous. Nervous to be disappointed if the signal was deceiving him.
Or worried that the mech it may belong to wanted nothing to do with him. Optimus wouldn’t blame him, they both had a fair share of wounds they had inflicted on one another. Not all physical.
He shook his helm, planting his digits onto the console with feigned confidence. There was no need to conceptualise possibilities when he was close enough to experience them.
He sat down, allowing the engines to cycle through a warm-up, and braced himself for what was likely a nausea-inducing trip. It was moments like these that he regretted not taking a smoother vessel, in hopes of keeping his energon down at least.
Hack—
Orion Pax was leaning over a cracked sink, held together by a lack of physics. He knew he should not have taken the fifth cube of engex Megatronus offered him, but he did, and he should probably have been more remorseful about it.
He looked at himself in the mirror, some drool settling at the edge of his intake. “Hi pretty!” He let out, still smiling despite the pain in his jaw. He spotted another mech in the reflection and made to kiss the mirror, he didn’t quite manage to kiss the grey mech, Orion kept getting in the way.
A servo brought a rag to his faceplate, and Orion was surprised to see that the grey mech was actually behind him. “What?” —he spined, looking between his love and the mirror— “there’s two?!” He asked incredulously, completely baffled but pleased, that normally only happened in his dreams.
“You’re drunk, Orion. Hold still.” Megatronus hummed, a surprising gentleness to him. “I must apologise, I thought you could hold more—”
“I love you!” Orion blurted out
Megatronus stifled a laugh, glancing to the side before flicking an audial fin, “And I, you.”
Optimus closed his optics as the ship hopped, knowing that watching the stars warp would only make him dizzy. He didn’t drink engex for a while after that, but he did contemplate it, for the cuddles he received the first time round.
He kept himself still, trying not to recall the nausea he had felt the morning after. Instead, he recalled the mesh blankets Megatronus had buried him under, it was disorientating to wake up to.
Optimus could feel himself heat up. Was it inappropriate to be thinking back on those moments, given the last millennia? Probably. But Optimus was alone, and he was allowed to feel, regardless of whether he was being watched.
The Pontis jerked slightly as it came out of the warp, about time, it took a few Kliks. Optimus squinted open an optic, risking a glance at the stars before relaxing as he found them stationary. He had gotten accustomed to warps during the war, but a decade of rest seemed to undo it.
Or the Matrix made it more tolerable, that was another possibility.
He glanced out again, spotting a golden-brown, dusty-looking planet. He glanced back at the monitor to confirm the location of what might be Megatron. When all seemed to be in order, he secured himself and began the trip down.
•••••