Chapter Text
Optimus Prime stared at the control panel screen in front of him, he had been waiting for this message all morning. His optics traced over and over the lines of light that formed the text. The resolution of the Intergalactic Custody Council was written in gleaming golden glyphs:
Full custody granted to the creator Megatron.
A deep, heavy sigh escaped his vents, echoing in the solitary command room.
Several cycles had already passed since the tribunal ordered Scourge's transfer to the Temporary Reception Center for Minors. The law dictated that, for the duration of the litigation, the sparkling had to remain in a neutral environment, isolated from both creators to prevent any type of manipulation or influence on his testimony. Having had to hand his son over to judicial officers, watching them take him away to that center while being completely helpless, and spending all this time without being able to hold him in his arms... for Optimus, it had been a silent torture.
Searching through his memory banks, he opened those files classified under the 'important' tag: moments from past cycles where he could see Scourge as a little Bitty. He remembered with precision the instant the little one was barely larger than his own servo. Back then, Scourge lacked the strength to support the weight of his own chassis; Optimus's spark filled with tenderness watching the little one attempt to stand up awkwardly, before his legs gave way and he ended up falling backward onto the floor. In the video archives, one could clearly see him wobbling on his fragile limbs, hurriedly seeking the warmth of Optimus's spark whenever a loud noise or the rumble of a thunderstorm frightened his sensitive sensors. In those days, Megatron used to hold the little one with a surprising gentleness for his massive size, rocking him in his arms while promising him in a low voice that one day they would rule Cybertron together. For a long time, Optimus genuinely came to believe they were a happy family.
Unfortunately, Optimus was mistaken in believing that happiness would last forever. Harsh reality ultimately prevailed over the desires of his spark.
His relationship with Megatron could not survive their differing views on the future of Cybertron. As the leader of the Autobots, Optimus had a duty to ensure the freedom and safety of his people. Megatron, on his part, commanding both the Decepticon and Predacon forces, held a radically opposite vision of how their species should be ruled: through absolute dominance and subjugation. Unable to reconcile their ideologies and the heavy responsibilities that came with leading their respective factions, the separation was inevitable.
Despite the tragic failure of their relationship, neither Optimus nor Megatron ever allowed little Scourge to lack affection. Despite political grudges and tensions, both did everything possible to protect their son from the direct impact of their separation. However, the underlying problem never disappeared: both creators desired sole custody of the sparkling.
Now that Scourge was going through that chaotic and complex stage equivalent to human adolescence, the situation had turned critical. Optimus was completely convinced that his son needed a home that could provide a stable environment and a creator capable of being a firm guide—especially after finding out that his son now belonged to a gang of rebellious young Decepticons known in the peripheral sectors as the 'Commandons.' Their leader, Mega-Octane, was no stranger to Optimus; he remembered perfectly having seen him as a bitty when his creators, Onslaught and Blast Off, used to bring him to strategic meetings. Blast Off was always holding him in his arms. Knowing his creators' background, seeing Scourge fall under such an influence was, without a doubt, Optimus's worst nightmare.
"Optimus Prime, sir, are you all right?" asked Prowl, who had just arrived and couldn't help but notice the dense silence in the room. The officer had noticed his leader bringing his servos to his face with a gesture heavy with exhaustion; it was evident that something serious was troubling him.
"I lost custody, Prowl," Optimus murmured in a muted voice, lowering his gaze toward an old hologram still flickering on his desk. In it, a small Scourge played happily on the floor, hugging a plush toy shaped like a Predacon dragon that perfectly resembled one of Megatron's alternate modes.
"The Council granted custody to Megatron?" Prowl processed the information while his optics blinked rapidly, analyzing the database of the Cybertronian jurisprudence system in a fraction of a second. "That's not possible. There must be an error in the transmission. The rate of violent incidents recorded in the sector of Megatron's base exceeds eighty percent. Furthermore, the 'Commandos' have at least three reported acts of vandalism. With all that information we submitted as formal evidence, how can a judge rule that Megatron is the best option to exercise custody?"
"The court didn't care about the evidence we submitted, Prowl. They only saw the resources Megatron offered. Being cold and objective, he has more capital and territorial liberties to offer at this moment, and for the court, that was more than enough," Optimus answered, pressing the interface to finally turn off the holographic projection on his desk.
Optimus brought a servo to his face, pinching the bridge of his optical sensors and letting out a heavy sigh from his ventilation systems before continuing.
"The real problem is that Megatron is not going to educate Scourge; he is going to spoil him. He was always like that. When Scourge was smaller, if he couldn't get something from me, he only had to let out a whimpering sob for Megatron to come running to give him whatever he wanted. I clearly remember we argued quite a bit about limits and the discipline we had to enforce... Now he will give him all the fuel he asks for just to win his affection, but he won't set any boundaries. And in this vulnerable stage of his development, with Mega-Octane hanging around and filling his head with ideas… I fear my little one might commit a folly I won't be able to save him from."
The automatic doors of the command center slid open wide with a metallic hiss, abruptly shattering the tense silence between Optimus and Prowl. SideBurn and X-Brawn entered the room at a brisk pace, followed closely by Mirage. All of them wore expressions of clear unease and bewilderment on their faces.
"Optimus, is it true what they're saying on the secondary channels?" asked X-Brawn, crossing his arms with a look of disbelief. "Tell me the tribunal didn't commit the stupidity of giving the sparkling to that lunatic Megatron."
"Regrettably, that is the case," Prowl intervened in a grave tone before his leader had to repeat it. "The Council issued the ruling against Optimus's request."
"But that's ridiculous!" SideBurn exclaimed, raising his servos in outrage. "You still have time to appeal the decision! The Intergalactic Council's custody regulations clearly state that the sparkling can issue a statement of personal preference if the appeal is formally filed before the next cycle! You just have to talk directly to Scourge! If he tells the judge he prefers to stay here with you, Megatron won't be able to do a single thing to stop it!"
A dense, heavy silence fell over the room. Optimus closed his optics momentarily, feeling the weight in his spark. SideBurn's suggestion was the most logical legal path from a procedural standpoint, but it demonstrated how little his young soldiers knew about the mindset of a spoiled Cybertronian teenager.
"It's not that simple, SideBurn," Optimus murmured, resting the palms of his servos on the edge of the command table. "Scourge is not going to testify in my favor."
"Why not?" questioned Mirage, genuinely confused. "You're the one who has always looked out for his safety, his education, and his overall well-being. When Scourge starts staying with Megatron, most likely he'll be horribly bored when accompanying him to the Decepticon command center. Over there, there's only chaos, territorial disputes, and absurd military discipline."
"Because right now, for Scourge, my concern for him translates solely into restrictions. Scourge is young, to him, the fact that I impose rules is already synonymous with being a bad creator," Optimus explained with a deep bitterness resonating in his vocalizer. "If he stays with Megatron, he will enjoy absolute freedom, without consequences; he'll be able to do whatever he wants. Megatron will let him go out whenever he wants, skip his mandatory recharge cycles, and hang out with his friends burning energon lines without facing a single punishment. If I ask Scourge to choose in front of the judge, he will choose the place where nobody tells him what to do. To him, in this precise instant, Megatron is the understanding, lenient creator, while I am an annoying obstacle standing in the way of his longed-for independence."
X-Brawn let out a frustrated sigh. "Then what are we supposed to do? Are we just going to let that boy ruin himself completely by growing up surrounded by Decepticons and Predacons? He's going to turn into one of them if Megatron keeps filling his head with ideas of rebellion."
"I am not going to allow that," Optimus stated in a firm, resounding voice. He stood up, his golden optics reflecting exhaustion. "But a legal appeal won't work with Scourge testifying against me. The only real way to regain his custody is by getting Megatron himself to realize he cannot handle him and voluntarily hand custody back to me."
Prowl looked at him intently while reassessing the situation. "Are you suggesting negotiating directly with Megatron? You two haven't seen each other since you initiated the formal procedures for your separation. The odds of him voluntarily surrendering custody are less than three percent. His pride and his ego would never permit it, he would look like a bad creator in the eyes of his followers."
"Megatron won a legal battle, Prowl... but he doesn't have the slightest clue what it means to raise a rebellious teenager all by himself," Optimus said, beginning to walk slowly toward the command center exit with his eyes fixed ahead. "I am going to request a neutral meeting with him. Sooner or later, the chaotic reality of parenthood is going to overwhelm him, and when he realizes he cannot control Scourge, I will be the one there to demand custody back."
**********
While Optimus had received the news from the tribunal with disappointment, someone else had received it with the greatest joy he could possibly feel.
"Absolute triumph!" proclaimed Megatron with a thunderous laugh that echoed through the corridors of the fortress, making the metal ceiling plates vibrate. In his right servo, he held the official document bearing the golden seal of the Council. "I showed those bureaucrats at the tribunal and that naive Prime who the true leader is! The heir stays home!"
A few meters away, Sky-Byte floated euphoric in the air, bringing his fins together dramatically.
"A glorious victory, oh, Great Megatron..." recited Sky-Byte, placing a servo over his chest. "The tribunal has spoken, the young heir arrives, the sea of victory washes over us! It is a perfect poem for such a magnanimous occasion! And tell me, my lord... what will my post of honor be in this new regime? Vanguard Commander? Fleet General?"
Megatron wiped the victorious grin off his face and looked at him with a raised metallic eyebrow.
"Your mission is of the highest priority, Sky-Byte… your duty is to make sure Scourge eats at his designated hours and doesn't go out after his recharge cycle arrives. You are his official guardian as of this moment; you and your squad are in charge of caring for my heir."
Sky-Byte's smile froze completely.
"... What? Me?! A babysitter?! But I am the most fearsome Predacon of the seas!"
"Oh no, because of Sky-Byte now we have to play babysitters," said Gas Skunk.
"I don't think it's that bad, young Scourge was an adorable Bitty," added Slapper.
"Quiet, you two! Lord Megatron cannot be serious, don't you think someone else should be in charge of caring for your heir?"
"It is an order!" Megatron roared. "Scourge is a developing sparkling; he needs... a certain supervision while I ensure our faction's interests aren't overlooked by those Autobots. It's simple, Sky-Byte: just don't let him hang around bad influences. If anything happens to him, I will personally destroy you. We are talking about the safety of my heir. Do I make myself clear?"
Before Sky-Byte could protest, the heavy entrance doors opened. Scourge entered the room dragging his feet, showing off his gleaming black chassis, his audio receptors covered by massive headphones emitting a buzzing static at full volume. He carried a small can of energon in his servo, not even bothering to look at his creator.
"I'm here. As soon as the tribunal issued the ruling, they transferred me to this place."
"Hello, son," Megatron said, trying to sound paternal. "Welcome to your true home. I've ordered the north wing cleared for you and..."
"Yeah, whatever," Scourge interrupted, drinking his energon cube without looking at him. "Where's my room?"
Megatron blinked, a bit bewildered by the lack of reverence; he hadn't seen his son in a long time, and this was not the reaction he expected. Sky-Byte rushed over toward the teenager.
"Young Master Scourge! How wonderful that you are well! From now on you will live in the base with all of us, it is a pleasure to have you here. As of now, I will be your temporary custody officer and mentor in the arts of..."
Scourge stopped him with a gesture. He turned his head in Sky-Byte's direction to look him up and down with an evident look of boredom.
"You'd better just take me to my room. I need to put my things away before going out."
Megatron was taken aback; this was not how he had imagined the reunion with his son. He still remembered coming home to their shared residence with Optimus after spending time away from Cybertron on matters that required his presence. Little Scourge would run from his room to meet him at the front entrance and throw himself into his arms to hug him, shouting how much he had missed him.
"Going out? Scourge, you just arrived from the reception center. I have prepared a banquet to celebrate your—"
"I said I'm going out, I'll deal with it when I get back," Scourge interrupted, turning down his music slightly just to look at him with annoyance. "I agreed to meet with Mega-Octane. I won't be far, I'm just going to the Combaticons' base. I'm not going to be locked up here all cycle."
Sky-Byte, horrified by the lack of respect toward his leader, quickly floated toward the boy. "Young Master Scourge! You cannot speak to Lord Megatron like that! Besides, base rules dictate that—"
"You smell like fish, Sky-Byte," Scourge cut him off without looking at him. "And if you keep supervising me like when I was three cycles old, I'm going to test the strength of your fins with my sword."
Sky-Byte froze petrified in midair, while Gas Skunk and Slapper let out stifled giggles in the background. Megatron cleared his vocalizer, feeling a slight twitch in his optical sensor.
Scourge walked down the hallway toward the private quarters, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him. Megatron stood in the middle of the room, swallowing his own pride as he cleared his vocalizer once more.
"He has... the attitude of a true conqueror," Megatron justified himself in a low voice, swallowing his pride. "It's normal for him to act like this at his age, he'll grow out of it. Sky-Byte, you and your squad had better follow him at a prudent distance to the Combaticons' base, and make sure Scourge doesn't realize he's being followed."
On the other side of the room, Sky-Byte had brought his shark fins to his face, trying to avoid crying in front of his leader. This time, neither Slapper, nor DarkScream, nor Gas Skunk could hold back their laughter.
"Hahaha! Did you hear that, Sky-Byte? You smell like fish!"
They laughed while Sky-Byte tried to play it cool.
"I do not smell like fish! Young Master Scourge must simply be confused after spending so much time in that juvenile center!"
*********
While walking to his room, Scourge took the opportunity to check the messages that had arrived. Among the notifications from the group chat with the Commandos, there was a new message sent directly from Optimus Prime's private frequency. Due to the judge's order, neither of his creators had been able to send him anything while he was held at the juvenile center, making this the first direct contact in several cycles.
Scourge pressed the screen reluctantly, and Optimus's text appeared:
"Hello, Scourge. I know things have been difficult these past few cycles. I just wanted to tell you that I miss you very much. Your room remains exactly as you left it. No matter what the Council determined, my spark will always be with you, and I can't wait to see you soon."
Scourge rolled his optics, letting out a heavy, annoyed huff as he turned off the communicator screen.
"Pff... so dramatic," he muttered to himself, storing the device in his chassis before opening his bedroom door.
However, despite his annoyed sneer, he did not delete the message.