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“Ok, ok, ok. So, captain, truth or dare?” Whirl was leaning most of his frame across the large table they were gathered around, only stopped from being fully on it by his conjunxes holding him back.
It was a relatively normal game night at Swerve’s, as most had been since the quantum jump. Many drinks were had, mechs had split into a couple of groups, and Minimus and Megatron were keeping each other busy in their poetry club so they wouldn’t interrupt. The group Rodimus had chosen for this evening consisted of Whirl and his conjuxes, Drift, Ratchet (who usually just tagged along to observe), Nautica, and Velocity. Rewind and Chromedome also tended to pop in and out of groups because the recorder always wanted to document everything he could.
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…” Rodimus was at least seven drinks in, which was when things actually got fun in this game since he would stop thinking around five drinks. “Dare!”
“I just did an amazing dare! Do truth!!” Whirl complained, now in Cyclonus’s lap. Which, fair enough. Drift had dared the helicopter to bring a briefcase into the bar, so to say Swerve was happy with any of them would be a lie.
“Sure. What do you want to know?” He was going to regret this wasn’t he?
“Do you hate Optimus?” Huh?
“OK! Game over!” Drift attempted to shut him up, but he had been asked in the sacred game of truth or dare, leaving him no other option but to answer.
“I don’t hate him, like, we had our arguments, and our last conversation sucked, but like, he’s Optimus, you know?” Many of the more sober optics at the table locked on him with what his mind saw as concern, but there was no need for that.
“What was your last conversation about?” Whirl pushed with a wave of his claws and over-bright optic peering at him.
“Oh you know, just complained about how I broke the Matrix, I was too irresponsible, and how he wished I had died instead of Bumblebee.” Rodimus took a sip of his drink. “He slapped the slag out of me too.” This blend was one of his favorites but wasn’t around super often due to the rareness of…wait why was everyone quiet?
The thick silence cut through his inebriation.
“What?” Ratchet said with a coldness usually reserved for his most unruly patients.
“What do you mean, what?” Rodimus tried to keep from squirming at the sudden tone shift and took another drink.
“Did Prime…did Optimus really tell you that he wished you…died instead of Bee? And hit you?” Drift looked sick, Ratchet should really look at that later.
“Well yeah. That was right after he called me a waste of effort, I remember it pretty clearly cause like, five kliks later Ratchet told me that Megatron was taking my ship and he didn’t trust me in any way, shape, or form.”
Ratchet now was the one looking sick. He should go to Velocity later.
“You did what?” Velocity, right she was here too, glared at Ratchet. Actually, most of the table was glaring at Ratchet.
“I mean I kinda deserved it.”
“Deserved what Rodimus?” Cyclonus spoke with his calm rage reserved for battles while Whirl was twitching in both his conjunx’s arms.
“Being told all those things. I deserved everything I got for being a horrible captain and friend, but I never wanted to say that before.” Rodimus felt his helm getting heavy and he let it rest on the table, using one of his arms as a pillow.
“Roddy, why would you think that?” Drift sounded on the verge of crying. Why was he? Rodimus couldn’t move his helm to check, it was too heavy. His chest felt too heavy.
“Cause I should’ve died with my city.”
Rodimus’s processor chose that moment to give up and he passed out.
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Ratchet turned to look at his conjunx whose face was slowly being consumed by tears mixing with his facepaint making it appear as if he was crying human blood.
“I-I didn’t- Slag. FUCK!” Whirl slammed his claws on the table and rushed away. Tailgate quickly followed after while Cyclonus appeared torn as he kept looking at his conjunxes and then back at the captain.
“Go.” Velocity waved him on. “We got this.”
The only sound throughout the whole bar was the triad’s exit from it.
“For Solus’s sake,” Nautica was covering her mouth with her servos. “How has this never come up before?”
There was no response from anyone.
Ratchet took the initiative to pick up the unconscious mech into his arms and begin the walk to his room. Drift fell into step beside him, carefully supporting his amica’s helm. The walk did little to stop his processor from spinning. He had forgotten the harsh words he had exchanged with Rodimus right after the mess that was Luna-1, the way he had berated the captain with all the rage he felt from his easy betrayal of Drift and the way Megatron’s sham of a trial had gone. (He was more ok with it after getting to know the mech but at the time he wanted nothing more than to be far away from the ex-warlord.) It had felt easily justifiable at the time, then so unremarkable for him that he had forgotten about it, but Rodimus hadn’t.
Why had he not brought it up to Ratchet before?
The speedster flailed about to get comfortable when he was laid on his berth, completely unaware of the chaos he had just wrecked upon the entire crew.
Drift hesitated, looking over Rodimus’s frame as Ratchet attempted to leave the room.
“Did you know?” His facepaint was entirely gone now, leaving his conjunx’s expressions wide open for him to read. A mix of fear and sadness was plastered across it.
“No, I swear I didn’t.” He walked back towards his and grabbed his face, pressing their helm crests together. “If I had…I don’t think I would’ve just left without talking to Optimus.” In his mind Ratchet tried to imagine the enforcer he had met all those millennia ago saying anything like what he said to Rodimus.
“Why would he do something like that?”
“Optimus was certainly closer to Bumblebee than to Rodimus, but to say something that cruel to another, to his successor, to his friend is just unthinkable. I suppose we know he’s capable of physical abuse with the whole Prowl situation that happened.”
“How did we let this get so bad?”
“I don’t know.”
Drift pulled up a nearby chair to the berth. “We need to be there for him, cause he’s not going to remember saying this, but none of us will forget it.”
Ratchet pulled up another chair. “We will.”
He wouldn’t let his friend down again.
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And so with the rise of the sun I shall-
A knock stopped Megatron from continuing his latest poem.
“Who is it?”
“Nautica and Velocity, something happened at Swerve’s.” The door opened to reveal the two femmes, with the medic shifting anxiously on her pedes.
“I’ll get the brig ready.” Minimus grumbled as he stood.
“It’s not that kind of incident, honestly it would probably be preferable if it were just a scuffle.” Nautica looked almost ill. “It started out like any game night, but Whirl asked the wrong question while Rodimus was a bit too drunk and he, uh, said some things. About Optimus.”
Megatron sighed, “I know those two had a complicated relationship, mainly due to Rodimus-”
“Optimus told him he wished he had died instead of Bumblebee and hit him.”
The energon in his lines froze.
“No, there’s no possibility-”
Velocity jumped in. “I think Rodimus was too drunk to be lying, considering,” She shook slightly. “All that he said.”
“That’s against all sorts of protocol!” Minimus frantically shouted, “Optimus would never do something like that.”
“Wouldn’t he though?” Megatron let himself fall back in his chair. “Two sides of the same shanix he and I. Did he go out of his way to ever change from that enforcer from Iacon?”
The statement sat like poison on his glossa, but no one moved to correct him.
----------
“You broke the Matrix?!”
“Not important, anyways-”
“No Rodimus, you cannot continue to brush of your mistakes like this!”
“The choice was let every cold-construct die, or let go of the matrix and possibly die myself. I thought…”
“Thought what, I would be proud of your irresponsibility?"
“I-”
“Bumblebee would've never let it get to the point where those were the only two options!”
“Well he’s dead isn’t he? And now you’ve got, who, Megatron?”
*CRACK*
The side of his face stung as he hit the floor. His legs wobbled as he pushed himself off the ground using the wall for support.
“You would have preferred that wouldn’t you? If I had died instead of him?”
“I would have preferred that, yes.”
“Wonderful. Well, I’ve got a quest to do. Have fun with Starscream.”
He ran and crawled into his normal hiding spot in the hangar, with a datapad full of those who wanted him removed from his ship in hand.
Rodimus couldn’t breathe, not a single one of his vents were functional.
A servo landed on his arm.
Vents tried to hitch into life.
A warm weight settled right over his spark.
“I got you. I’m here.” Drift’s voice finally cut through the fuzziness of his processor.
“Why are you here?” Drift had a guilty look on his face.
“How much of last night do you remember?”
“About up to the briefcase, then the energex makes everything just a bit blurry. Honestly a miracle I’m as conscious as I am right now. Did I do something stupider than normal?” A cube entered his peripheral. Ratchet stood over the two speedsters. “Oh slag must’ve been something really stupid.”
“You told us about your last conversation with Optimus.”
Oh no. That's really bad. Like really really really bad.
“Yeah it was.” Ratchet sat down on the edge of the berth. Did he say that out loud? “Yes you did.” He paused. “I'm sorry.”
“Why would you be sorry? You had to hear about…” The fact that your friend was horrible to me but I can't stop feeling like it was my fault.
“It wasn't Rodimus, it wasn't your fault. But I need to apologize for what I said after Luna 1.”
“Eh it's water under the bridge.”
“I kicked you while you were down because I was mad, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
Rodimus didn't know what to say.
“We’re here for you Roddy, no matter what happens or what anyone says. We're here.” Drift cupped his face with both of his servos, making sure they locked optics. “We're here Roddy.”
Rodimus had no hope of stopping the tears from escaping.
The two mechs next to him just held him while sobs wracked his frame.
When they finally subsided, the two of them were still there.
“If we were still in our world I would go stab him for you.” Drift whispered to his left like Ratchet couldn't hear.
“My wrench would be making contact with his helm.”
Rodimus laughed. “Thanks. I probably would’ve taken you up on that.”
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Walking back on to the bridge felt like a colossal task, and Ratchet had tried to talk him out of it. Said he should wait a day for the worst of the news to die down. Rodimus knew if he hid now he might not get the nerve to get back up.
“Captain on bridge!” Minimus called. “It's good to see you.” The TIC put a servo on his shoulder.
“Good to be here Mins.”
“Chair is all yours.” Megatron stood and gestured to the now empty seat, then reached as if he wanted to reassure him too, and pull back.
Rodimus hugged him. Megatron didn't push him away.
Then he caught Whirl’s optic, the ex-wrecker made his way over to him.
“Next time I’ll listen to Drift when he cuts the game off, in the meantime,” Whirl presented him with a small pocket watch. It was mainly gold with many red accents in a flame pattern. It must've taken him all night to make. “I hope this makes up for it.”
Rodimus hugged him too. Whirl flailed for a moment before returning it.
When he finally took his seat, he saw his crew looking up at him. Some were concerned and full of pity, but far more were relieved and happy to see him.
“Alrighty! What's the plan for today?”