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Things at the Autobot base were surprisingly uneventful and had been for a while. The Decepticons had seemingly decided to lay low for a while, and the Autobots had in turn taken time to recollect themselves. Jack certainly appreciated it since it meant Arcee was a little more willing to take him out for rides.
But as was seemingly customary with all good things, the peace around the base went up in smoke the day Optimus emerged from his room, trying to give an order only for his voice to turn to static.
He paused, touched his throat, and made a face that Jack could only read as mixed worry and confusion. The bots looked at him strangely, but life went on. However, with every passing day, he just seemed to get worse. First his voice kept giving out, then he started moving slower, and finally, after a week of slow decline, he’d been reduced to the medical berth. He looked small curled up there, his armor having been mostly removed to let him cool.
He was steaming like a baked potato, what he could only assume was the sound of internal fans drowning out most of everything from his side of the room as they roared. He looked feverish and out of it, so much so that he didn’t even twitch when Bulkhead brought Jack and his friends to base.
“Is Optimus going to be alright? He looks really sick.” Miko leaned on the railing, nervousness clear on her face. Jack put a hand on her shoulder, but he was worried too. Did robots even get sick.
“He’s been getting worse all week.” Raf added, his eyes wide and voice hesitant.
“I’m sure he’s fine guys. Prime wouldn’t have lasted this long just to get taken out by robot sickness.” His comment made Raf smile a bit, but that was about all. They kept looking, anxious and uncertain. Honestly, Jack couldn’t help but doubt his own words. He’d seen just how badly the rust plague messed Optimus up. Was this anything like that? He certainly hoped not.
“He’s suffering from a virus. Nothing life threatening, but terrible to work through.” Ratchet responded first, emerging from the hall leading to the bots’ rooms and training area with a whole box of supplies. He quickly started saying something to Optimus in their weird alien language, and Optimus groaned in protest as the resident Doctor proceeded to put what Jack could only assume were some form of cooling pads on his frame.
He looked miserable.
“Like a cold?” Raf questioned, his worry easing a bit from what Jack could tell. Ratchet sighed, clearly not exactly happy with the comparison but putting up with it as he usually did.
“I suppose it is akin to your acute viral nasopharygitis, or the ‘cold’ as you call it. But the symptoms and targeted areas are different.” Ratchet grumbled, clearly ready to say more but pausing to answer some sort of halting and staticky comment from Optimus.
“No need to get all sciency about it.” Miko scowled, and Ratchet ignored her. Jack smiled a bit, fighting back a snort. Miko could always bring a little something to a conversation, be it good or bad.
“Regardless, Optimus is unwell, and he does not need any disturbances right now.” Ratchet stood straight, patting Optimus’s side gently and earning a soft wheeze in return. Jack’s heart panged in sympathy at the noise. He’d been dog sick for weeks at a time as a kid, and it was not fun at all. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for a robot from space, but it had to suck.
“I’m afraid you will have to go home for a few days. I will have your partners watch over you in the meantime.” Miko groaned, Raf seemed fine enough with the arrangement, and Jack didn’t comment. His mom would certainly be happy to have him around in the evening for a while.
He just hoped Optimus recovered quickly.
He did not recover quickly.
After a week not being at the base, Optimus had only just begun to be coherent and semi-mobile again. He couldn’t really talk, and frankly, he looked like death. His eyes were dim, and his bare frame, which Jack still found somewhat startling to look at due to all the delicate wires and cables there, still steamed whenever he moved. He was always shaking somewhat, and his finials dipped so low they almost pointed straight at the ground. He was always hunched over, looking a moment away from coughing something up.
Honestly, it looked like Optimus had a really bad case of the flu, and for that reason, Jack couldn’t help but internally offer his sympathies. There wasn’t much he could do even when he and his friends were allowed to return to base. They tried to be quiet, but most often, Jack found himself watching as the team took care of their Prime.
It was strange to witness the softer side of the bots, but he also found himself smiling when one particular evening, he and his friends arrived in time to watch Arcee helping Optimus.
“What’s she doing?” Miko squinted, probably doubting her contacts. Jack would have too if he had to wear them. It looked impossible considering Arcee’s usual gruff attitude. But there she was, crawled up on the medical berth, helping Optimus take what looked to be medicine of some kind.
“I think she’s helping him with his meds.” Jack responded after a moment, still watching in awe as Arcee took one pill after another, gently pressed it to Optimus’s lips, and then helped him take a sip of energon to wash it down. He didn’t seem to be fully coherent, muttering things in his language that Arcee responded to with a series of what Jack interpreted as soft sounding clicks.
“Raf, you know what they’re saying?” Miko whispered yelled in Raf’s direction. The youngest in their group shrugged, his eyes wide as Arcee slowly but surely started to help Optimus to his feet.
“No idea. I only really understand Bee since his binary is simple. Whatever they are saying is way more complicated.” That sounded about right. Miko pouted, but Jack kept quiet as Arcee slowly but surely helped Optimus amble his way toward the center of the base, near the ground bridge, and to a makeshift chair there. It looked to have been made from some crates, probably not very comfortable.
Yet, the moment Arcee got him there, he sagged into it as if it were made of the softest downy pillows imaginable. Optimus groaned, his entire body still trembling as Arcee promptly hauled over a very much slapped together T.V situation. It was of terrible quality, with a crack in the screen. But as Arcee poked at it and set it to a baking channel of all things, Optimus seemed to relax a fraction.
His eyes regained a bit of their brightness, and despite his steaming body and the fact that his under armor looked a little more corpse grey than what was probably healthy for him, he seemed at peace. Arcee smiled, and she sat at his side as the rest of the team went about their work.
Jack did his homework with his friends, and they quietly played a few video games before getting ready to go home. Miko and Raf whispered goodbyes to Optimus, which he didn’t seem to hear or lacked the energy to respond to, and they shortly thereafter set off.
Jack though? He couldn’t help but ask a question as Arcee drove him home.
“I didn’t think anyone other than Ratchet would be taking care of Optimus. And no offence, you don’t seem like the caring type.” Arcee sighed, agitation clear in her voice as she responded, her voice surprisingly light in the night air.
“Optimus is our leader, of course we’re going to take care of him.” She paused, and Jack let the silence linger, hoping for a bit more. Arcee liked to fill the silence if there was no confirmation her words were acknowledged. It didn’t always work, but sometimes she gave away a little more in such moments.
And thankfully, this was one such instance.
“Besides… It reminds me a bit of taking care of my mentor when he started falling apart at the seams. Caring for another brings back memories of home and makes life feel… normal for a little while.” Ah… she had someone she cared for like Optimus before the war. That raised a few questions, but it made sense.
“I’m sure he appreciates it.” Arcee didn’t say anything in light of his comment, but Jack got the distinct feeling she was proud of her work. Even if she did speed up a few times randomly to make him yelp.
Later that week, Jack and his friends arrived to a different sight. Instead of Arcee or Ratchet taking care of Optimus, they clambered up to their little perch just in time to see Bumblebee helping out this time.
He was uncharacteristically still, door wings held at a firm and undistracting angle. The team Scout made soft little noises, and ever so gently, held a cube to Optimus’s lips. The Prime struggled with it, wheezing as he managed a few short sips at a time. Bee was exceptionally patient, making what Jack could only assume were encouraging comments as Optimus worked to get some actual energy in him.
“He’s… being really nice.” Raf spoke up quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment. Even Miko kept her voice down as she looked at their youngest friend.
“Yeah? What’s he saying?” Raf smiled a bit, his expression softening as Bee wiped the corner of Optimus’s mouth where he’d spilled a bit.
“He’s saying all sorts of things, but mostly ‘you’re doing a great job, Dad’... or something like that.” Despite his attempt at sounding unsure, Raf looked entirely confident in his translation. Miko gasped at the revelation, and Jack just blinked a bit. Bee was the youngest on the team, but he hadn’t expected him to see Optimus as anything other than a leader.
Clearly, there were relationships running deeper than they knew.
“Don’t worry Dad. One sip at a time.” Raf continued to translate as Bee made his trilling and beeping sounds. Optimus grumbled, speaking back in his tongue before suddenly doubling over with a gag. Bee dove for a bucket, managing to shove it into Optimus’s hands just in time for him to throw up.
Jack winced, and so did his friends. But Bee didn’t seem all that concerned. He just rubbed Optimus’s back, continuing to talk before cleaning up Optimus’s face and trying to help him eat again a while later while Jack was working on math homework.
“Hey Bee! Why do you call Optimus, Dad?” Raf posed the question they were all wondering as they got ready to leave. Bee paused, rubbing the back of his neck in a slightly embarrassed way as he answered. Raf nodded along before translating for the rest of them.
“He says Optimus was one of the primary bots to raise him during the war since he was a last generation Cybertronian.” Jack couldn’t help the pang of sorrow that clung to him at that. Bee was one of the last. He’d probably only ever known war. No wonder he was so quick to adapt to Earth, unlike Ratchet who was still bitter over having to drive around.
“Is that why you are taking care of Optimus instead of Ratchet?” Miko chimed in, earning another slightly embarrassed trill from the sound before Raf translated.
“He says… Optimus always took care of him when he was young, so he’s happy to finally return the favor.” Raf laughed a bit as Bee used a single finger to ruffle his hair.
“Besides, he says that Ratchet’s not the only one who gets to hang out with Prime.” That got a little chuckle out of Jack. Of course even in this situation, there was still some degree of rivalry to hang out with Optimus due to him so rarely being in a position to do anything outside of war related work. Heck, Jack could barely get Optimus to glance twice at him on a good day unless it related to Cybertron somehow.
Still, it was kind of sad that the bots only got to hang around their leader in a domestic sense when he was indisposed.
“So when’s our turn then?” Miko crossed her arms, but Bee didn’t bother responding. He patted her head, and promptly returned to taking care of Optimus as he sat there looking like the embodiment of misery.
Poor guy.
“Hey!” Miko’s outraged cry was met with Bulkhead quickly moving to usher her along and take them all home.
“Easy now, Prime.” Bulkhead was taking care of Optimus this time. It was a Friday, and thankfully, after almost two weeks of declining and then remaining stuck in a state of pure suffering, he was on the uphill at last. But that didn’t mean he was right and dandy yet, and it showed perfectly as Jack looked away from the movie his friends were watching with popcorn. He slipped away from their little movie night and instead watched Bulkhead work.
“I… want… to work.” Optimus rasped, but his voice was still a mess of static, and ultimately, after clutching his throat with a wince, Bulkhead patted his back and swapped to their native tongue. Optimus seemed to appreciate it as he was carefully guided around. At first, he just walked in circles to get used to moving again, but eventually, after stumbling and presumably cursing, Bulkhead brought him toward Ratchet’s console.
They spoke in soft tones, with Bulkhead making sure to serve as Optimus’s crutch as much as possible. Jack returned to the movie a few times, but each time he got up to see what Prime was up to, the ailing leader of the Autobots was being tended to rather gently by arguably the heaviest hitter on the team.
He typed at the console lethargically, fingers hovering over keys as he squinted to try and read them, before weakly pecking. He had none of his usual speed, and after less than two hours, he seemed to give up as he rubbed his face. Jack winced in sympathy. Staring at screens for too long while sick was bound to cause eyes to dry out and a pounding headache. Optimus seemed to have discovered that fact the hard way.
“I think that’s enough for now.” Bulkhead patted Optimus’s back before pulling what looked to be some sort of sheet up over his shoulders. Without all his bulky outer armor, it went on without a hitch, and Bulkhead tied the sheet into a little knot in the front. It looked ridiculous, like an overgrown kid wearing a cape. But Jack wasn’t one to judge. Being sick gave immunity to cringe.
“Thank… you.” Optimus managed to wheeze before shuddering and clutching the sheet tighter around himself. Bulkhead made an agreeing noise before letting Optimus just about collapse against his side to get him back to the berth. The moment he reached it, Optimus dropped to his knees, too weak to get up himself.
Jack’s worry spiked, but eased quickly as Bulkhead said something or other he assumed was soothing and rubbed Optimus’s back until he was well enough to stand. At that point, he carefully lifted Optimus enough for the Prime to shimmy onto the berth. Even then, he laid there like a limp noodle, needing Bulkhead to untangle his limbs and lay him out flat. Only then did Optimus seem even partially at ease, falling asleep without a hitch.
It was strangely awe inspiring. And by the time his friends had passed out from watching the rather uninspiring film, he couldn’t help but ask the Wrecker a question.
“Hey, Bulkhead. Where did you learn to take care of him like that?” Bulkhead stepped up the ledge, shrugging a bit as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“I used to work for a charity organization back before the war. Did it in my offtime and took care of older bots with no one left to check in on them.” That was… incredibly sweet. Jack had to stare in awe for a moment. He’d never have considered Bulkhead to be the kind of bot to go and do that sort of work, but in a way, it made sense. He was already very good with Miko in a way Jack never would be. He’d rather throw a shoe at her most days, and yet Bulkhead handled her and apparently caretaking like a champ.
“Why? Aren’t you a Wrecker?” He pondered aloud, and Bulkhead sighed a bit.
“Kid, despite being built with weapons, Cybertronians weren’t born for war. We care for each other, or at least we did before functionalism and the war took over.” Jack shriveled a bit, realizing he may have come off as offensive.
“Sorry-”
“Don’t worry about it. I get it.” Bulkhead waved him off as he turned back to Optimus, making sure his temperature was decent. He’d stopped steaming about a day ago. That had to be a decent sign.
“Even if I didn’t have a background in caregiving, I’d still do my best. That’s what you do for family.” Jack didn’t feel the need to say anything. He chose to observe the gentle fluttering of Optimus’s vents underneath his cape blanket which he’d chosen to curl up in like a burrito after a while.
The Prime looked peaceful, and he couldn’t help but find himself appreciating Bulkhead a bit more for it.
It was Monday evening when Jack and his friends arrived at base a little earlier than expected. School let out due to some assembly which ended up not taking as long as expected. So after a quick call, they’d been brought back to the bots about an hour before schedule.
That was something Jack quickly realized was a mistake.
The moment they were let in and climbed up to their platform, Jack and his friends paused to stare. How could they not?
Optimus was laid out on the medical berth, looking a little better than he had on Friday, and definitely on the mend, but not at all ready to do much of anything for himself. And much to Jack’s shock, Ratchet held up one of the Prime’s legs, seemingly wiping him down in all the places that would have made a human blush.
“We… should go-” Jack whispered, quickly trying to cover Raf’s eyes and drag Miko away. Unfortunately, he was too slow to go unnoticed. Ratchet, having finally registered their presence, whipped around like a viper with a bone to pick with the world at large.
“Get out.” Ratchet’s voice was icy in the extreme, so much so that Jack gulped and only eased when he turned to the team with just as much focus.
“All of you as well! Get out for at least an hour and then come back!” Using his body to hide Optimus from view, the resident medic threw out his arms accusingly. Jack didn’t hesitate to grab his friends and all but shove them back down to ground level and to their bots. He’d never seen Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bee move so fast.
When they did return, Optimus was resting, seeming asleep, and Ratchet hovered nearby as he usually did. He was calmer now, thank goodness. Miko and Raf hustled back up to their platform, neither stupid enough to test him after such an outburst. But later that evening, when it was quieter, he spoke up.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” An apology from Ratchet? Jack almost couldn’t believe his ears.
“Is that a SORRY I hear? WOW!” Miko was not nearly subtle enough to play it cool, earning an eye roll from the medic.
“I did not expect you all to arrive back at base so early… especially not with Optimus so compromised.” Ratchet’s voice grew softer, and even Miko had the awareness to listen quietly instead of interjecting as the medic sighed and put a hand on Optimus’s shoulder as he slept.
“We’re sorry for intruding, Ratchet.” Raf offered weakly. But if it was heard, it was ignored in favor of Ratchet speaking again.
“Even before the Matrix, Optimus was always a private mech. He hates being seen like this. Vulnerable and something less than a Prime.” Ratchet turned to them then, not moving from Optimus’s side, but addressing them properly at least.
“I can’t fight for him like the others do. I can’t lead like he does, and he won’t let me hear many of the things that plague him… but I can protect his dignity when he is unable to.” Ratchet’s tone again grew sharp, but quickly smoothed as he finally stepped away and toward them.
“For his sake, don’t tell him about seeing him like that. I’ve already asked the same of the team.” Raf was the first to nod, with Jack mirroring the motion.
“Absolutely. My mom’s a nurse. I’ve gotten the lecture on HIPAA violations before.” That got a faint smile out of the medic. He snorted, then turned back to the Prime.
“Good. Now go play your games or whatever it is you do.” There he was, right back to his usual attitude. It was a welcome return to form.
“Nice! I got dips on Bioshock!” Raf, breaking from whatever thoughts may have been rotating in his head, took off at a dead sprint to try and reach the base Xbox before Miko could.
“HEY! I wanted to play Lego Starwars!” And just like that, they were off. Jack rubbed his face, but smiled. At least they weren’t going to be bothering Optimus.
That Thursday, Optimus finally seemed mostly back to usual, at least personality wise. Ratchet still had him on partial bedrest and his armor remained off since he had to be constantly checked for all sorts of random ailments Ratchet threw out periodically. Still, he was sitting up, moving around mostly on his own, and otherwise seemed energetic enough.
Jack let go of tension he didn’t know he was carrying at the sound of Optimus’s voice when he finally addressed them upon arrival.
“Children, it is good to see you with clear optics again.” Miko didn’t even hesitate before running right up to the Prime’s leg, hugging him as much as one could hug a living steel bar.
“Optimus! You’re better!” Optimus chuckled, a certain softness to his features Jack had seen perhaps three times in the entirety of their varied interactions. Then, as the team waited almost anxiously nearby, hovering as if to catch their leader, Optimus leaned down to gently touch Miko’s head.
“Mostly, Miko. I do hope I did not cause you too much distress.” Miko shook her head, and as she did, Raf ran up as well, hugging his leg alongside Miko. Jack wasn’t really the hugging type, but he approached nonetheless and stood by as Prime touched Raf’s head as well.
“We wanted to help you, but we weren’t allowed to.” Raf whined, holding on just a bit tighter. Optimus smiled again, chuckling as Ratchet shot back from across the room.
“I TOLD YOU that he was running hot enough to sizzle your little organic fingers right off!” Bulkhead snorted nearby and Arcee had to hide her smile behind her hand. Bee didn’t even bother trying to disguise his amusement as he trilled. Optimus, for his part, simply reached down, crouching to offer a hand.
“I would be lying if I said I did not miss your companionship, little ones. May I hold you for a while?” Miko didn’t even hesitate to hop onto his hand, quickly followed by Raf.
“I love being tall!” Miko exclaimed, settling in on Optimus palm.
“We missed you, Optimus.” Rafael smiled brightly as he took his seat too.
But Optimus didn’t move. He waited, looking to Jack as he stood. He hadn’t exactly expected Optimus to want to hold him too considering he barely counted as a child. Yet, the Prime still paused, not moving until Jack finally stepped up and seated himself as well.
“Thank you.” With that, Optimus proceeded to just… hold them for a while. The team kept moving, shooting their leader looks, but otherwise going about their evening. After about fiteen minutes though, Optimus settled on the makeshift chair made for him a week ago and used a foot to bring the little T.V close enough to grab. The cables protested, but thankfully were of the extended variety and let him bring the whole thing up to rest on his arm which he laid on the edge of the chair.
Once that was in place, he quietly brought Jack and his friends closer, letting them hop off his hand onto his arm. Miko seemed confused, and frankly, so was Jack. But luckily for all of them, Raf caught on.
“You want us to watch T.V with you?” Optimus nodded, careful not to move his arm in the slightest as he adjusted.
“If you are willing, I would like to have you three near for a while… your presence is comforting.” Miko didn’t need to be told twice to plop down and fight for the remote which had been taped to the top of the T.V at some point to keep it from getting lost. Raf fought her for it, but in the end, they settled on some random cartoon and looking up at Optimus, Jack couldn’t help but feel he was quite peaceful.
His body was running just warm enough that it was comfortable to rest again him, and beyond that, seeing such peace on his face made Jack comfortable enough to smile up at him in return.
“Glad we don’t drive you up the wall too much.” At that, Optimus laughed, a proper but gentle thing as he leaned down just a bit to smile wider.
“No… you children remind me far too much of home to ever rouse me to anger.” The Prime spoke as if it were common sense. But as he did, Raf perked up a bit, looking away from the cartoon.
“Really?”
“Yes.” Optimus responded fondly.
“There have been no ‘children’ among our people in millennia… it brings me joy to have the chance to be around little ones again, even those of another species entirely.” The way he spoke was so sad, and yet so pleased all at once.
Sickness must have been making him emotional. Jack could count on his hand the number of times he’d seen anything other than stoic resolve, focus, or anger on Optimus’s face. But… he didn’t dislike it. Honestly, it was nice to know there was a person beneath all the ‘roll outs’ and ‘Megatron’s’ he was constantly on about.
“Were you a Dad or something?” Miko’s question hung in the air, and for a moment, Optimus tilted his helm thoughtfully before nodding.
“I suppose I was. I mentored many in my youth, and in my later vorns, I taught many more. Ultra Magnus and Bumblebee have been my greatest pride and joys.” Jack only recognized one of those names, but he understood the point. Optimus was a parent deep down, and it showed. It was nice to see some honesty from him that went beyond the war.
“So you are a Dad! That’s so cool! My Dad doesn’t hang out with me like you do.” Miko pouted for a moment, then grinned up at Optimus as if she’d just handed her a box of candy. Jack almost wanted to tell her to stop being self depreciating, but Optimus spoke first.
“That is a great shame. A spark as bright as yours is one I would have guided with honor if you had been born among my people.” That did something to Jack he couldn’t quite place. Longing, maybe? He hadn’t exactly had a dad around either, and yet here Optimus was, affirming that all of them meant something.
Weird that the acceptance he wanted had to come from robot Jesus, but who was he to complain.
“And that goes for all three of you.” Optimus concluded, reaching out to touch each of their heads tenderly.
“I wish you were my Dad.” Raf muttered under his breath, earning a concerned, then soft look from the Autobot leader.
“Oh Rafael…” He didn’t confirm or deny, but Optimus hummed softly all the same and removed the T.V in favor of gently pulling all three of them up closer to him. For once, their faces were on equal level, and Optimus’s eyes basked them in their glow.
“I cannot be a ‘Dad’ as you wish me to be… but while you are here and under my care, you shall be as close to my spark as any of the others I have reared.” Oh… oh that struck a cord.
Jack wasn’t sure what started it. Maybe it was just Optimus being emotional at all, or maybe it had something to do with the god relic he carried. Whatever the case, he had to wipe his eyes as Optimus gently nudged them into his cupped hands, his gaze gentle.
“You sure that isn’t the cold talking?” Jack joked, almost preparing for some sort of cruel and twisted confirmation that Optimus was merely humoring them.
“I mean what I say, Jack. You children are precious, and so long as my spark still burns, your wellbeing is one of my utmost concerns.” If Jack had to wipe away a few more tears, no one said anything. Miko and Raf certainly didn’t as Optimus brought them to his chest, letting them lean against his warmth. Jack joined them without really thinking, and as he did, he heard the most unusual and yet comforting sound.
A gentle hum, followed by warm thumps, like a heart that pumped fire instead of blood.
“Thank you for letting me hold you for a time.” Jack barely heard the Prime. He was warm… and for whatever reason, he found himself wanting to drift off.
“We wanted to help you feel better… not make you hold us.” Raf mumbled as he too seemed to start to curl up, content and sleepy.
“I requested this… and do not doubt that you are helping me, dear ones.” Optimus’s voice seemed to be doing something to them combined with the warmth. It wasn’t natural, but it also wasn’t unwelcome.
“There is no greater joy for me than having something so precious held against my very soul.” Jack's eyes started to droop. He could barely stay awake. Why was it so hard to stay awake?
“You have worried yourselves for my sake… this is the least I can do.” The Prime began to hum, his still sickly yet warm frame serving as a surprisingly comfortable resting place as Jack yawned.
Maybe he could rest just for a little while…
“Optimus, don’t tell me you used the Matrix to put them to sleep.” Ratchet sighed, his servos on his hips as he glared, albeit fondly at his leader and friend. Optimus had the children cupped in his servos, their little bodies pressed up against his bare chassis to feel the warmth and thrum of his spark. They rested easily, small frames rising and falling with easy breaths. Optimus seemed more at peace than Ratchet had seen him in months.
“Perhaps.” That coy response should have and would have made Ratchet upset a lifetime ago. Now, it was a welcome sign of something other than the weary Prime he’d come to know.
“You haven’t done that since Bee.” He mused aloud as he approached, soft in his steps and speaking in their language over English for the sake of keeping quiet.
“No I have not. It has been nice to be of use in this way again.” Optimus kept smiling, and it was such a welcome sight Ratchet was loath to break it. But it had to be done sooner rather than later.
“They need to go home.” Ratchet informed his leader, just a bit regretfully. Optimus, utilizing a trick Ratchet hadn’t seen in millennia, dipped his finials as he pleaded.
“Five more minutes.” Ah slag.
What could five measly minutes do in the long run? Easy enough to blame on traffic.
“Fine.” And just like that, Optimus went right back to gazing at the human children adoringly, humming his little tune.
It seemed the sickness had brought a little good after all.