Work Text:
It was a bittersweet feeling for Optimus as he drove through the curvy roads of Cybertron. Hadean was only just now rising, casting long shadows on the roads in front of him. Howling winds surrounded him as the air bounced off his hood. Light reflected off the metal surfaces around him, but this did not fuel him with warmth.
“Hey Optimus, are you going to the release tomorrow?” The two mechs were sitting at the bar, each with a drink in hand. The loud noise of the packed dance floor nearly drowned out the mech's voice. It was nice for him to see all the joy the mechs around him were finally able to feel now that the war was over.
“I wasn't planning on it, I have many other things to attend to tomorrow.” He took a sip of his drink.
The conversation he had with one of his old friends was echoing in his mind. He really wasn't planning on coming, but some of what he later heard wouldn't leave him. And now, with his meeting being canceled, he had the time.
“Aw, come on mech. Prowl was part of your high command. He's being released back into the post-war Cybertron you both fought for! Together!”
He was right, of course. While he and Prowl didn't always meet optic to optic, they have been by each other's sides for eons.
Optimus had to speak up over the noise of the background. He did not mind it, in fact, he felt almost serene at the scene.“I hope he uses this second chance better than he did his last one. I wish him the best.”
The mech next to him nodded. “Apprently, he is being released with the Constructions. And according to the people with a higher pay grade than I, they are going to be working together to rebuild parts of Cybertron. That's a good deed.”
Optimus only visited Prowl once in jail, back when he was first arrested. He was in his own cell, still caught up in the paranoia and anger that infected his every thought.
“Well, a good deed is a good start.” Optimus took another sip of his drink, the liquid mixed with the emotions pulling in his stomach.
“Yeah well, I hope he got the help he needed during his, uh, separation from society.” The mech gave a slight chuckle at the end.
“Yes, I hope he learned from his previous actions and will change for the better.”
The mech gave Optimus a weird look, one that was a mix of deep thought and suspicion. Optimus raised his eyebrow at him, wondering what he was thinking.
The road in front of him seemed almost never ending. It just led to more dread forming within his tanks. He knew that Prowl's paranoia is one of the driving forces that caused the actions that got him arrested in the first place. He thought that the reason Prowl didn't integrate into peace well was just because Prowl is… well, Prowl. He thought that if everyone else could assimilate to peace, then the difference between Prowl and them was just Prowls, Prowlness. It never occurred to him that maybe him and the others could also be part of that reason, not until that conversation.
The mech put down his drink, turning towards Optimus. “Well, it's less changing he needs to do, and more getting support. At least, in my opinion.”
Optimus paused at that comment. That was never a tone anyone has ever used for Prowl. “What do you mean?”
He never thought to think much more into it. And maybe that was the problem.
“Well, in the devil's defense, I can't really blame him for some of it. I mean, yeah, in the beginning he was a dick. But then, he was kind of, you know, mind controlled and forced into a bond with some of the most vile Decepticons known to the planet. And then, after finally getting back control, was immediately put into more battles. I too would be a shit ton of paranoid after that. It's no wonder why he wasn't thinking right. Who knows what mental issues he was going through after that. I mean, I’m not one to excuse people's actions, but I am pro post war trauma support. And I don't think prowl got much of that.” The mech shrugged after he spoke, and Optimus just stared.
He never thought much about what caused Prowls' paranoia. Just that it was there. And yeah, he did get a little worse compared from when the war just ended to when Optimus came back. He just thought… no, he will not just excuse his own lack of thought. He didn't check in on Prowl post mind control, or really anything. And considering everyone else's thoughts towards Prowl, neither did anyone else.
So now, Optimus is making his way to Prowl’s release, to make sure Prowl had someone this time. To make sure he wasn't alone like last time. Even if it's a struggle to help Prowl recover, he would help him. Prowl stood by his side for years, he will do the same for him.
A building slowly grew in front of him. It loomed over the land, blocking out the star's light from making it through. Dark grey metal walls held up sharp towers. There was not a window in sight. Optimus drove up towards the gate at the front. They were large and Optimus could see the pure strength each bar held. He was slowly let in, after multiple checks and security measures. No one spoke much to him, though he was unsure if it was professional actions or because of who he was. He suspected it was a mix of both.
Eventually, he was brought to what looked like a garden area. It was outside another large door, with a few seats scattered around a long path that led to the giant gates. There were only a handful of mechs present, with most being some sort of prison guard. He stood there, waiting. His mind was racing, thoughts of what he would say to Prowl keep appearing and disappearing. What does one say to a mech that was isolated and abandoned when he needed someone the most?
It turns out he didn't have as much time as he thought he would, as the front doors soon opened up. The air around him froze, and everyone turned to the slowly moving slabs. Out came two mechs marching in perfect synchrony. More guards. They then paused half way up the path, and turned around to face the open door. Optimus wished he could see into the building, see what they were looking at, but yet no matter how he stretched his neck, he couldn't get the better angle.
After what felt like an hour, a group of green mechs emerged. Optimus froze. He forgot about them, the other mechs who were also being released. The Constructicons. The mechs who Prowl was forced into a connection with. Optimus didn't hate them, no, he just feared what they exposed Prowl to. It wasn't their fault either, they were all victims of Megatron's manipulations. But they never left Prowl alone, always following him. Who knows what they did, and Optimus just stood by and let it happen. In fact, he encouraged it. Guilt ate at him. He hoped Prowl got away from them in the prison, and was able to recover as much as he could.
Then, in the center of the mass of green, he spotted a pattern of black and white. In the center of the circle of Constructicons stood Prowl. His wings were held straight up and his optics were locked forward. His arms were crossed behind his back, while each Constructicon walked around him. Each step one of them took caused a slight tremor in the ground as their large frames moved. Prowl's own frame was larger than it was in the war, a consequence of being reformatted to fit into Devastator. Another thing Optimus never asked him how he felt about or how he was coping with it.
The tallest of the Constructicons then glanced over at Optimus. He believed Long Haul was his designation.. He saw a bit of surprise bloom on what of his face he could see, but it was quickly overtaken by a glare. Optimus’s own frame froze, unsure of how to respond. Then, a wave of another emotion overcame his frame like a weighted blanket. A mix of emotions; protectiveness, anger, and need to shield Prowl.
Optimus did not blame them, nor did he view them as the perpetrator of what happened to Prowl. But, they are not nice mechs, and who knows what they can do to Prowl. Prowl, who is trapped, vulnerable, scared. Who is alone.
Optimus walked up to the group of the mechs, pace quick and determined. He approached the side of the group a few steps before they reached the gate. As he reached them, Long Haul turned to face him.
Surprisingly to Optimus, Long Haul spoke first; “Look, can this conversation that you think we need to have wait until after we exit the gate? We have been trapped in this fuck ass prision way to long already.”
“Yeah,” another one said, “We are not standing here any longer than we have too.”
Optimus nodded, and the group started walking again. Though, Optimus was unsure if they started walking before or after he agreed. He walked beside them for a while. They didn't pause till after they were a ways away from the prison. Optimus couldn't blame them.
Optimus’ optics always kept Prowl in their view. Though, it seemed as if one of the Constructions tried to keep themselves between Optimus and Prowl at all times. This did not comfort him. Prowl still hadn't looked at him, he hadn't looked anywhere but straight ahead of himself.
Optimus wondered why the Constructicons were around Prowl. No, that wasn't it. Prowl was smart, terrifyingly smart. He could easily see why they would want him around. What he really wondered was if Prowl was willingly staying around them. With the way the group blocked him off, the way he hasn't spoken a word, the way he hasn't even looked at anyone, it doesn't paint a good picture. This type of control doesn't form over a few seconds, especially not over Prowl, who he himself has fought against enough to know how hard it is to force him to do anything. So, the conclusion that the Constructicons had access to him in the prison was on he came to quickly. This filled him with more fear. How had Prowl taken being isolated away from his fellow Autobots and trapped with these cons? Concindering all he has seen so far, not well. His fist tightened at that thought, and his resolve grew stronger. Guilt bubbled just below it.
Eventually the group stopped walking. They were down the road, trees and rock formations all around them. The prison was still close enough to be towering to the side, more of a reminder than a wall next to them. The star was above them now, casting the road in a reddish yellow light. The group of mechs, (well, all but the one black and white one), turned to face him. Optimus did not back down. Long Haul's arms were crossed in front of him, Bonecrusher stood to the side of him. Hook was glancing him up and down, while Mixmaster and Scavenger were on the other side of Prowl. Prowl… Prowl’s eyes were locked on the ground. His wings were frozen on his back, his arms were right by his sides.
He couldn't stay quiet much longer. Luckily, neither could Hook. “So, what is it you require of us Prime? I highly doubt you are here for a nice walk in the park in front of the prison.”
Optimus internally winced at that. He was right, of course. But then, he remembered why he was here, and his resolve quickly came back. “I came here to talk to Prowl.” He wanted to say more, but not to the Constructicons. He turned to try and look at Prowl as he spoke, but the Constructicons shifted themselves to block his view, once again.
“You can talk to us.” Long Haul’s voice was loud. It had a sort of gravel laced into it. Optimus glanced up at Long Haul, the bright red of his visor locked onto him. Something started to tick under Optimus' plating at that comment.
Optimus kept his tone polite, not wanting to cause any drama or escalate anything. “I am sure Prowl is perfectly able to talk to me, an old friend of his.”
There was a chuckle that seemed to flow through the six Constructicons, Prowl’s wings twitch too. That was the most emotion Optimus has seen out of Prowl this entire time. It was almost enough of a shock to distract him from questioning why that comment made them chuckle, almost.
“Yeah, look mech.” Long Haul took a step forward as he spoke. “He doesn't want to speak with you. And what the boss says, goes.” Optimus was about to snap back, when Long Haul seemed to freeze. After a moment, he cycled his vents. Optimus did the same. If they wanted a calm conversation, Optimus was happy to oblige. Long Haul then looked back at Optimus. “Look, if you want to speak, speak to us. He can still hear you, and this is the best you are going to get.” One of the green mechs behind Long Haul nodded along with him.
Optimus didn't like this. Prowl always spoke his mind. In fact, he has never seen a time where Prowl didn’t want to lecture him. But, being abandoned in your time of need could change a mech. Guilt rushed back into Optimus, he tried to keep it from showing in his face plate. Focusing on the past would not help Prowl now.
“If that is what Prowl wishes, then I am happy to accommodate.” Though, he did not fully trust how much Prowl actually wanted this.
He could hear one of the Constructicons start to tap their own arm. Before Optimus could speak more, one of them took the lead. “So, what is it you need? We have places to be.”
“My apologies for taking so much of your time. I was originally coming to see if Prowl needed somewhere to go after being imprisoned for so long. As his friend-”
“He has somewhere to go.” One of them interrupted him.
“And where would that be?” Concern started up again in Optimus’s mind. He didn't see anyone else here to pick Prowl up. Hopefully he was going to meet this mech somewhere else.
Hook scoffed. It grated on Optimus patients. “With us, obviously. We got ourselves a nice little apartment to go to.” Optimus' spark stopped. With them? When did he have the chance to come to this decision? Maybe he felt like he didn't have another choice. Oh, Prowl. Optimus had a feeling he didn't have many visitors. Being alone in that cell, dealing with the fall out of the war and everything else, who knew what mindset Prowl was in right now.
The wave of protectiveness grew within him. He knew he needed to play this carefully. Starting an argument, or worse, would not be helpful right now. It is always better to use calm words.
He took a vent, settling his thoughts. He tried to look at Prowl as much as he could, he was still looking off into the distance. “Well, the offer still stands. Seven mechs in one apartment is a lot.”
Optimus could see Hook give a slight smirk at that. It did not fill him with confidence. “Look mech,” Optimus turned to face Hook, "Considering all seven of us have been living in a tiny square room for the past, I don't know, how many years? I think we will be fine in an apartment that's significantly bigger.”
Optimus paused at that. Living together already? He thought they just had access to him, maybe found him in the courtyard during yard time… Oh no. “I thought Prowl was in a cell by himself?”
“In the beginning, yes.” Hook's voice was sharp, direct. “But, eventually these idiotic ‘guards’ realized that separating a gelstalt causes drastic negative health effects. So, he got put with us.”
Optimus froze as he tried to process what he was hearing. Prowl was stuck with them all along. Instead of being able to move on from what has happened, he was forced to live further in it. The mindset Prowl was in this entire time, who knows what the Constructicons have done with him. Whether on accident, or on purpose.
“He would have known that if he visited like a ‘good friend’ he claims to be.” The voice was soft, mumbled under someone's breath. But, it wasn't wrong. Optimus left Prowl to rot. And now, who knows what his mind has conditioned itself to accept.
More things started to fall into place. He spoke before he thought much on his words. “I apologize for not being here when I should have been. I was… busy. But, I am here now to offer my support and assistance to you, Prowl.” He desperately hoped Prowl heard him. From behind Long Haul, Optimus saw a twitch of Prowl’s wings. He heard him. Hope bloomed within Optimus.
“Look mech. Prowl says he ‘appreciates the offer’ or what not, but he is going to decline.” Bonecrusher was the one to speak now. Optimus’ eyes darted to him. “Hate to break it to ya, well, that's a lie but, Prowl’s ours now, and we are a lot better option than you. So, we will be going now.”
Optimus saw from behind the two larger mechs the slight jagged flutter of a door wing. Fear gripped Optimus’s spark. They think that he belongs to them, just because Megatron said he did. He could see Prowl react to the words, the need to help him flooded strongly. They had Prowl locked with them for years, in a vulnerable state, with no one to watch him. And now, the effects were obvious.
Hook’s optics rackered over Optimus’s frame, right before he turned to walk down the road. The group of them started to move, walking away towards wherever they deemed good enough to stash away Prowl. Prowl, who couldn't even look at Optimus, couldn't speak for himself, who believed himself all alone. He knew it was partially his own fault.
He did not want to let Prowl down again. But what could he do? To grab him now, after him being seen going with the Constructicons willingly? That would cause an escalation that he was not prepared to deal with. He needed to think like Prowl, plan this out, make the smarter move.
But that required time. Time that Prowl might not have to spend. His fist clenched as the realization settled within him. Prowl would have to wait, again. Wait even longer than he already has. But, at least this time, someone is coming to save him. And hey, Prowl would always appreciate a good plan that takes a bit longer than a rushed one that fails.
The Constructicons walked away, surrounding Prowl as a blockade. He fought his urge to reach out, grab him, shield him from what has been done against his will. He can not help him now, but he will. He will not leave him again, he will save him.