Archive of Our Own

LIfe in solitary confinement wasn’t as solitary as one would’ve imagined. Two guards stood outside his door, bringing him energon and sometimes a polite little conversation or two. Then, every five years Megatron was allowed one visitor. 

At the first such visit, Ultra Magnus came and updated him on everything, focusing on the Unicron War, on Cybertron’s populace now on Earth. The visit took place in Megatron’s cramped cell with him in bindings, much like the ones he was put into to talk to Optimus Prime before D-Void all those years ago.  

“What of Optimus?” Megatron cut in. 

“Gone.” Ultra Magnus’ frown was deep. “He gave his life to defeat that evil creature.” 

“As expected.” Megatron sighed, shaking his helm. “He was always too self-sacrificing for his own good.” Even as he said it, there wasn’t the bitterness he held all those eons ago. Just a statement of fact. Optimus Prime would always choose the path that led to saving as many lives as possible, just never his own taken into the equation.

And that’s why I lost, I suppose , Megatron thought to himself.

Ultra Magnus nodded before he pulled out a datapad. He showed Megatron pictures of Rodimus and Drift. He showed a video of Windblade’s eulogy of Optimus Prime. On and on, for the next solar cycle, they talked and caught up on everything. 

After Ultra Magnus left, Megatron laid on his berth, cycling through all the information over and over again. Yet, his thoughts continued to cycle back. 

He said aloud to no one in particular. “I can’t believe you’re gone.” Megatron frowned and brought up his hands to stare at them. “But I’m still here. That seems...almost unfair.” 

Optimus Prime gave everything for Cybertron. Most of his life, his body, his spark, even his death, for even a chance at peace. 

“You and my hatred were my two constants.” Megatron put his hands down on his chassis. “Now, I’m left with only time.” 

~~~

The dream ripped through his recharge like a bullet. Optimus Prime’s screams of pain and anguish cut through his psyche. Megatron shouted as he flipped through the air. He fell hard on some kind of rock, rolling over and over before slamming into a metal wall. Megtron stood up, growling. 

His optics fell on the sight of Optimus Prime surrounded by Nova, Sentinel, and Zeta Prime. They were taking turns attacking Optimus, laughing and tearing him apart. Megatron raced forward to help-.

Only to wake up on his berth, still in prison. 

“Just a bad purge,” he murmured to himself. 

But the dreams continued. Every night, for years, Megatron would sleep to find Optimus Prime in hell. Every single time, he would try to reach him, only to just fall short before awakening. Megatron used a drawing pad to draw the visions. He knew logically they must just be manifestations of his guilt, but something nagged at him in the back of his processor. 

If these were just manifestations, why then were they always the same? And why wasn’t he the one punching and slicing away at Optimus himself? 

Five years came and went, and Rodimus came to see him next. 

By this point, Megatron needed to talk about his dreams. “Rodimus, look at these and tell me what you see.” 

“Hi to you too, big guy.” Rodimus took his drawing pad. The stricken look on his face told him something else besides guilt was at play. “Megs, what the hell is this? Why are you drawing Optimus in the dead universe?” 

“I’ve never been to the dead universe, Rodimus.” Megatron took his drawing pad slid over and over again. “But I’ve been dreaming about it for the past five years. Optimus is there, and he’s being tortured.” 

“How do you know?” Rodimus grabbed the pad back to look at all the drawings. “Primus, these are just too much. Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m very sure. Every single night I see Optimus in pain.” Megatron gripped Rodimus’ shoulders. “I don’t know why I’ve been the one chosen to see it, but you have to find him. You have to do something about this, Rodimus. Save him from this torment.” 

“I’ll try.” Rodmius took a datapad out from his subspace. “Here, let’s trade. I’ll look through all of these while you look at some new pictures and videos. Thundercracker finally got his ‘Starscream: Warrior, Villain, and Hero’ produced. You should watch it, it’s terrible.” 

~~~

Two years later, Rodimus busted him out of prison. 

“Are you out of your mind?!” Megatron shouted at the hole blown into his cell wall. 

“No! I’m getting you out so we can save Optimus. Hurry up!” Rodimus held out his hand. “What are they gonna do? Extend your sentence? Get in here!” 

Megatron groaned in dismay, but took the hand and jumped on the ship. Cyclonus and Tailgate were inside, waving hello from the driver’s seats. 

“Hey Megatron!” Tailgate said happily. 

“How was prison?” Cyclonus asked. 

“Boring as slag,” Megatron said. 

“PUNCH IT!” Rodimus ordered as he closed the door shut. 

They jumped to the next start system just as the turrets turned to fire upon them. 

~ ~~

Rodimus, Megatron, and Cyclonus got their force fields strapped on. Tailgate was staying behind to look after the ship. Cyclonus held a strange looking tablet in his hand. 

“Ok, so here’s the plan,” Rodimus pointed to Cyclonus. “Cy found a tear close to where Unicron imploded. We’re guessing that coffin thing probably took everyone over to the dead universe if they didn’t actually die in the whole implosion bit. We go in, we destroy the evil Primes, and we get our Prime out of there.” 

“But how do you know my visions are true?” Megatron asked. 

“Because I saw the same vision.” Cyclonus said, “As did Ironhide, Drift, and Mirage. They helped us to plan your escape and get to the dead universe.” 

“But why get me out at all?” Megatron asked. “You could’ve all done it without me.”

Rodimus shook his head. “We need someone who has experience with fighting Primes, as in fighting and winning.” He put a hand on Megatron’s arm. “You’re the best bet we’ve got if we’re going to survive.”

Tailgate pointed to all of them. “Listen here, priority is to getting Optimus Prime out. We can leave those other Primes behind. Screw them, really, they can rust out there. I don’t even know how they got back in there, since we blew ‘em all to slag and back again.”

“Ok, new plan,” Rodimus picked up two blasters off the wall, “get Optimus and get the frag outta there.” 

“Agreed.” Megatron took a blaster. 

“Wait, I thought you were a pacifist now?” Rodimus said with a quirked brow. 

“I said I would never kill or harm another living creature.” Megatron took the safety off. “Dead Primes don’t count.” 

~~~

Going into the dead universe was easy, but Rodimus had started the clock. Tailgate was pulling them out of there with jump devices in t-minus five hours. He was pulling them out dead or alive, all three of them. Cyclonus guided them to where he believed the visions took place. 

Megatron gripped his blaster. Some habits died hard. Being a warlord who conquered worlds, knowing how to be ready to die in a battle was second nature. When he saw the Primes in sight, he immediately started shooting. He didn’t give them a chance to fight back. 

“Zeta, I killed you once, I will gladly do it again!” 

He roared as he grabbed the Prime by the face and tossed him into a wall. He punched, kicked, clawed his way through the three of them. Rodimus helped, hitting their legs to make them go down. Cyclonus tackled Nova Prime, and they tumbled off and away. 

Megatron put his blaster under Zeta’s chin and fired. It felt like deja vu as Zeta clattered to the ground. 

“Megatron! Slap the jumper on Optimus and let’s get out of here!” Rodimus blasted Sentinel back into a wall. “I don’t think we can kill them here!” 

Zeta’s form was coming back together. His bits of processor and armor rolled back to his body. Megatron turned to look for Optimus. He gasped when he saw a beaten, battered, and torn apart Prime lying on the ground. His faceplate was gone, ripped away to leave cut up lip plates. His left arm was missing, as was his right leg. 

“No,” he ran over, “Optimus!” He fell down to his knees. “Prime! Wake up!” He picked him up into his arms, shaking him. “I did not come all this way to save a corpse. Look at me!”

Optimus’ left optic shuttered open. Pale blue stared back at him. 

“Good enough.” Megatron put the jumper onto Optimus’ shoulder. “Stay alive long enough for me to put you into a CR chamber.” He shouted at Rodimus and Cyclonus. “I’ve got him! Let’s go!” 

~~~

The ship’s CR chamber was just big enough for Optimus Prime to fit into it. It was a new type, one Megatron had never seen before. Instead of having a mech float up and down in a tall tube, it looked very similar to a stasis chamber for long flights. 

Megtron gently placed Optimus Prime within the healing gel. He watched as Optimus Prime sank into it. He pressed the button to cover him in the glass casing. He put his hand upon the glass, just watching as Optimus laid there helpless. 

Cyclonus put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s safe now. That’s what matters.” 

Megatron nodded, but said nothing. 

Rodimus put his own hand beside Megatron’s. “Hey there, OP. We’re gonna get you all fixed up and take you home. Just hang in there, boss bot.” 

“Take him home…”Megatron turned to Rodimus. “You’re taking him back to Earth.”

“Well, yeah,” Rodimus said as he put his hand down. “He’s the Prime.”

“But the Matrix was destroyed.” Megatron argued. He wasn’t sure why he was arguing. “I…” 

“Look, we got to get him to a medical facility, then we can talk about Prime or not Prime stuff, ok?” Rodimus patted Megatron on the arm. “Relax, buddy, this might just be your ticket out of prison or even a lesser sentence. We saved Optimus Prime!” 

Megatron opened his mouth to argue again. Then he clacked his denta together and nodded. Cyclonus and Rodimus left for the driver’s seat. He heard Cyclonus say to Rodimus, “Let’s leave him be for now. It’s got to be a bit strange, saving his once enemy.” 

He didn’t catch the rest as the door closed on the medical bay. Megatron stared down at Optimus Prime. He thought through the next step. Of course, taking Optimus Prime to medical services, and then getting him updated, and then taking him to Windblade, and then…

“No,” Megatron curled his hands into fists, “no more.”

Megatron stomped onto the bridge. Tailgate was in Cyclonus’ lap. Rodimus was doing first aid on a few scratches and dents on his plating. 

“I’m going to ask you all to do something traitorous,” Megatron proclaimed. 

~~~

Windblade received an incoming call. She gasped when Megatron’s face appeared before her on the holoprojector. Ironhide and Chromia cried out to see Rodimus, Tailgate, and Cyclonus all bound and gagged behind Megatron. 

“Now that I have your attention.” Megatron smirked. “I must say, it’s great to see some things never change, such as Autobot naivety.” He chuckled and presented his prisoners with a flourish of his hand. “As you can see, I have your friends at my mercy. These poor fools truly believed I cared about Optimus Prime enough to save him.” 

“Megatron, what are you doing? What do you want?” Windblade asked, putting a fist in front of her. “If you’ve hurt them-!” 

“They’re fine, merely dented here and there.” Megatron shrugged. “You can easily save them. I’ll be tossing them out in an escape pod, coordinates to follow. The deal is simple: do not follow me. I’ll have bombs attached to their pod. If you try to chase after this vessel, I will blow them all to bits, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Megatron grinned. 

“So much for turning over a new leaf!” Ironhide pointed at Megatron. “Once evil, always evil!” 

“Yes, yes, blusterous protests, token resistance, let’s cut through it all shall we?” Megatron waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m heading off. I’ll send coordinates within a solar cycle. Goodbye.” 

~~~

Megatron untied them all. Rodimus took his hand when he offered to help him up. Cyclonus held Tailgate’s hand as they all walked forlornly towards the escape pods. 

“Are you sure about this, Megs?” Rodimus asked. “Are you sure it’s what Optimus would want?” 

Megatron sighed. “Want was never really something Prime was ever good at.” He put his hands Rodimus’ shoulders. “But it’s what’s right. Optimus deserves his own life, one without the burden of all his people lying upon his shoulders. I had the Lost Light and our adventures.” Megatron smiled sadly. “I can’t give him that, but I hope to give him something.” 

“Well, good luck.” Rodimus moved forward and pulled him into a hug before Megatron could protest. “Take good care of him, and yourself.” 

“I will try.” Megatron patted his back uncertainly. “Remember, you failed. All of you were tricked by me. It’s all just a con. One last deception by the evil Lord Megatron. No one can ever know the truth.” 

~~~

It was easy to get away. Megatron had plenty of experience resetting a ship’s serial code. He still had a list of old codes for ships on the Decepticon side that would still work at certain neutral planets. He spent a decent amount of time going outside and repainting the side of the ship. He renamed it to Fury’s Ride, an old shuttle jumper name from the war. The original burned up in orbit Tarxus 11, but all of its codes were on the networks just waiting to be used. 

He repainted himself as well. All black with white caution lines, like one of his fellow miners used to look like. When he docked at a small neutral outpost to refuel, be called himself Terminus and no one batted an optic at him. He used the shanix Rodimus and Cyclonus had gifted him. Tailgate had given him contacts to a neutral medic called Nightingale who lived in New Crystal City. Megatron headed in that direction. With a stocked ship and a few jumps, he could make it there and avoid the police searching for him without issue. 

And every day, he would go into the medbay to check on Optimus Prime. He would often sit there beside him, working on something on a datapad, just talking at his captive audience.

“Do you remember the time that human female of yours got into my base? I was so fed up with Starscream’s nonsense by that point. I had my hands full, so I couldn’t kill her. The look on her face was priceless, though.” Megatron was drawing it out on his pad as he talked. “I remember that was close to your breaking point, too. ‘Why won’t you die?’ I think you said. You were so furious.” 

Megatron leaned onto the glass. “I could ask you the same thing, Optimus.” He put a hand over Optimus’ chassis. “Why won’t you die?” 

The resting form didn’t answer, as expected. Megatron hummed to himself as he walked over to a case off to the side. 

“I got parts for you. I could attempt to reattach the leg and arm myself, but I think the CR chamber can take them and do a better job.” Megatron picked up the pieces and walked over to the initiation board. “Alright, let’s see if I can figure out how to do this. Ratchet’s systems were different.”

It took a lot of trial and error, but eventually Megatron got it. He put the arm and the leg into the machine. He watched as the CR chamber gel fell away, lifting Optimus up by a hidden platform underneath. The machine took the arm and leg, settling them in where they were supposed to be. Tubing and energon went together first, then sparks went flying as the machine welded all the plating together. 

Megatron watched, taking note of the speed of the machine. “Fascinating.” 

Eventually, the welding stopped. The platform descended again, refilling the CR chamber with gel and covering Optimus from head to toe. 

“Status stable.” The machine chirped. “Spark signs, normal. Oil pressure, normal.” 

“Really?” Megatron asked the machine. “What of his trauma?”

“All damage healed. Would you like to awaken the patient?” 

“I…” Megatron stared down at Optimus. “No, not yet. One more Cybertronian solar cycle.” 

“Understood.” 

~~~

There were three rooms available on the ship. Megatron went about setting up one of them for Optimus. He didn’t really need a whole day to do it. Really, he was just mentally preparing himself for their first encounter as...not enemies. He didn’t know how it would go with the fact that he essentially took him away from everything. 

He knew from past experience that Optimus Prime wasn’t a mech to slash out, not unless Megatron pushed his buttons exactly the way he knew how. It was going to be tough not to fall back into his old ways when speaking to him. Hurting each other was the norm, but Megatron didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. 

Even if they were stubborn, self-less, always in the way irritating autobot ex-leaders. 

Megatron found a bottle of energex and chugged it just before Optimus came online. He walked into the medbay, ready to face his ex-nemesis. Optimus Prime shuddered awake, his optics erratic. His breathing was hard inventing, near panic levels. 

“Relax, Prime, you’re safe.” Megatron winced at the sound of his own voice. Cold, hard steel. “It’s just me and you. No more dead universe or other Primes.” 

Optimus shook his head as he tried to get up and out of the chamber. “It’s a trick. You’ve all done this before. You’ve made me believe it was him before. I’m not falling for it this time!” 

“Prime, don’t get up yet, you’re not calibrated!” Megatron rushed over and grabbed ahold of the falling mech. “Optimus, for Primus’ sake, stay on the table.” 

Optimus struggled against him, but in his weakened state didn’t put up as much of a fight he could’ve. Megatron wrestled with him until he was back on the platform. When Prime refused to settle down, Megatron got on top of him, pushing him down until he had Prime’s wrists captured and held down on either side of his helm. 

“Stop fighting me!” Megatron ordered. “I saved your life, now act like you’re happy about it.” 

Optimus shook his helm. “Megatron would never save me. No one will save me.” 

“Never say never.” Megatron growled in frustration as Prime tried to buck him off. “No, stop that. Listen to me. Rodimus, Cyclonus, and Tailgate broke me out of prison. We got into the dead universe and brought you out. We’re on a shuttle now. It’s just you and me-. Stop trying to kick my legs!” 

They struggled again for a long while. Megatron continued to try and talk sense into him. He didn’t want to hurt Optimus, but he didn’t want to keep getting hit either. Finally, he tried something else. 

“Alright, alright, the other Primes tortured you with my visage, but did they actually know me?” Megatron got right into Prime’s face. “You asked me once if I felt any remorse for the things I did, remember? All the deaths and the carnage? I told you no, no I didn’t. I told you I wouldn’t stop until every last Autobot was dead. Remember?” 

Optimus stared at him. His stopped kicking at him, settling down. He didn’t struggle against the hold on his wrists. 

“I told you the truth. Before I felt no remorse, nothing for the lives I took.” Megatron gave him a small, sad smile. “But on the Lost Light I found myself. I found my spark, and I found the truth. Optimus, I feel it now, I feel that guilt and remorse.” He clanged their helms together. “I am sorry, Optimus. I’m sorry I didn’t see you as what you truly represented: the change in the Primes I always wanted.” 

Optimus Prime invented hard. “Megatron?” His face broke into a twisted, miserably relieved expression. “But how? I don’t understand.” 

“It’s complicated.” Megatron lifted his head. “Can I let you go? I’ll explain everything.” 

“Yes, yes, please.” Optimus sat up as Megatron moved off of him. “I...I need to know the whole story.” 

Megatron told him, from the visions all the way to the deception. Optimus didn’t interrupt, just listened as he sat on the table. When Megatron trailed off about fixing him and waking him up, Optimus raised a hand. 

“But Megatron, I belong with my people, and we both know Rodimus can’t keep that kind of secret.” Optimus Prime put up both hands to stop Megatron’s arguments. “I apologize, I know you meant well, and you’re trying to give me a second chance, but I’ve tried to be just Orion Pax before. It didn’t work. There is always something. Some cataclysm, some new enemy, some new threat, I just can’t walk away.” 

Megatron crossed his arms. “And that’s why it’s called a kidnapping, Prime. I’m not giving you a choice in the matter.” He shrugged at Optimus’ glare. “Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, but you don’t ever let that logic apply to you. So fine, I’m taking your freedom and your right to choose. Call it a remnant of my past misdeeds.” 

“You won’t and can’t stop me if I decide to return.” Optimus said, completely sure of himself. 

“The hell I can’t. I am Megatron, the once leader of the Decepticons.” Megatron grinned down at his captive. “You think I don’t remember how to take you down? Prime, please, we’ve fought for thousands of years, and you have a bleeding spark. I just apologized and confessed to being a changed mech, so you won’t kill me.” Megatron shrugged. “Besides, the ship is programmed to follow my orders. You are catalouged as a guest. Good luck trying to leave out an escape pod without my authorization.” 

“So I’m to be a prisoner?” Optimus got up on his pedes. “You can’t keep me here! I will-Ahh!” 

Optimus tilted forward, nearly falling over. Megatron caught him easily enough and sat him back down on the table. 

“I told you, you’re not calibrated yet. The arm and leg are new. Reset your subroutines, Prime, or you’ll just keep falling over.” Megatron ordered. “And quit struggling!” 

~~~

Megatron forgot how absolutely hard helmed Optimus could be. He argued with him for three solar cycles, THREE SOLAR CYCLES, about the idiocy of him being kept a prisoner. Megatron had taken him to his room, only to discover that Optimus snuck out of it to try and hail the Autobot Command. Of course, that didn’t work, because Megatron got a ping from the ship’s computer about an unauthorized communication trying to go through. Megatron put a lockdown on all communications of any kind without his say so. 

Optimus did attempt an escape pod, and nearly succeeded in blowing it out into space. Unfortunately, he underestimated the blast chargers, and only ended up getting himself burnt and in need of repair. To wit, Megatron loudly berated him as he repaired the damage. 

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Megatron shouted as he used his tool kit to fix Prime’s helm. “Hold still! I have to repair this energon line that you bashed open!” 

“If you would just let me go, then I wouldn’t need to try these dangerous methods!” Prime argued back. 

Megatron grounded his denta together. “Not happening, Prime. I’m in charge and I say we’re going to New Crystal City. We’re going to change our names, you’re going to figure out what you want to do besides being a pain in my aft, and I’m going to figure out how to become a medic.”

“Become...a medic?” Optimus looked up at him from the corner of his optics. “That’s what you want to do?”

“Hnn,” Megatron sealed the tube back together, “I’ve been learning how for some time now. My cannon arm is no longer a weapon but a very enhanced first aid kit.” 

“That’s...amazing.” Optimus’ steam seemed to go out of him. He didn’t speak for over an hour, just let Megatron tend to his various little injuries. “You’re surprisingly good at this,” he finally said. 

Megatron rolled his optics. “Don’t glitch out over it, Prime.” He finally put the past patch on a back strut on Optimus’ left side. 

He walked around to the front of his “patient” and put his hands on his hips. “We cannot continue on this way. You cannot keep trying to escape.”

Optimus tilted his helm up in defiance. “And you can’t keep me here forever.” 

Megatron ex-vented harshly. “No good deed goes unpunished.” 

“So you learned something from the humans,” Optimus said with no small amount of teasing. 

“Shut up.” Megatron put his fingers to his nasal ridge. “No wonder the Matrix chose you as its bearer. You’re stubborn enough to outlast Unicron the damned Unmaker.” 

“Obviously,” Optimus said, “so you’re fighting a futile battle. You are right, I’m not interested in killing a mech intent on redemption, but I also know you’re not willing to hurt me. You saved me, and I’m very thankful for that, but I cannot turn my back on my people.” 

Megatron let out a loud and furious noise of frustration. “Fine! Fine, let’s bring choice back into the equation then.” He pointed to Optimus. “You give me one thousand years. One eon to try out a different life, one that bears very little to no resemblance as a police officer or a Prime.”

“That is far too long.” Optimus stood up from the table. “I’ll accept perhaps a hundred.” 

“A hundred? Really Prime? We’re not even allowed into most academies until we’re over two hundred. Not happening. Seven.” 

“Three.” 

“Five.” 

“Done.” Optimus smirked at Megatron. “And now I know you really are changed.”

“How so?” Megatron asked. 

“You would’ve never even considered a compromise at any point with me in the war.” Optimus put his hands on his hips. “An armistice? Sure. But a compromise where you lose ground? Never.” 

“Funny how you think I intend to lose.” Megatron leaned in close. “You are going to live, Optimus Prime, and I intend to see you be happy about it.”

~~~

With the compromise in place, Megatron and Optimus finally got to have civil conversations. Megatron caught him up on the peaceful years following Unicron’s demise. It soothed Prime to see his people fine without him, at least for now. Megatron showed him pictures of the various new colonies out there. 

Their routine consisted of ship maintenance and getting ready for New Crystal City. Megatron repainted himself again, this time white and red, the colors of a medic. Optimus helped him with his back. 

“I think you might need to consider reformatting a little more.” Optimus crossed his arms as he gazed up and down at Megatron’s form. “This is too close to the war version of you. That helmet is just...iconic, I suppose.” 

“Hmm,” Megatron turned to look in the mirror, “yes, you’re not wrong. I could just take it off, but, well you’ll see.” Megatron brought his hands up to unlatch the helmet from his neck struts. He lifted and his arrays fanned out. 

“Oh.” Optimus said, walking over to his side. “I saw in the old archives that one fight you took it off, but...it’s different to see in person.” 

“I look ridiculous, I know.” Megatron said with a sigh. “I shut down their sensitivity a long time ago. I tried to remove them, but I was told it wouldn’t be worth it.” 

“But no one knows you can look like this,” Optimus said. “You look completely different, and no, not ridiculous by the way.” He picked up the spray nozzle. “Let’s see how it looks with red and white and then decide.” 

Megatron nodded. He dropped down to one knee. Optimus paused for a brief moment before he started working. He was careful with all four arrays. He put the coat of white on all four first, then accented them with the red over the glyphs on there. 

“You know, it actually doesn’t look half bad, I think.” Optimus gestured for him to stand up. 

Megatron stared at himself in the mirror. He blinked, a bit befuddled. “I think you’re right. I look nothing like the Megatron of Tarn people would remember.” 

Megatron turned to Optimus. “Now it’s your turn.” He held out his hand for the paint nozzle. 

Optimus hesitated before he handed it over. “I don’t know what colors to choose.” 

“Prime, you’ve had a week.” Megatron chided lightly. “We can’t put this off any longer.” 

“I know, I know, it’s just,” Optimus touched his chest plates, “I’m not like you or Starscream. I didn’t change much of myself during the war, unless you count my weapons? But even then only a few times. I’ve tried to keep myself grounded, and that meant without vanity.” 

“Prime, it’s a paint job.” Megatron tapped two buttons on the tablet. “I’ll tell you what. Shut off your optics. I’m going to try something for you. If you don’t like it, we’ll change it later.” 

Optimus wanted to say something snarky along the lines of, ‘Another choice taken away,’ but once the paint hit him, he just gave up. He frowned as the paint covered him completely. A base coat of something, sure. Then, he felt Megatron drawing along his plating. 

“Stop scrunching up your face like I’m torturing you,” Megatron commanded.

“Stop telling me what to do with my face,” Optimus sniped back. 

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re the most stubborn mech in all creation?” Megatron shot back. 

“Loads, I consider it one of my defining features.” Optimus felt Megatron writing small glyphs along his legs. “What are you writing?”

“You’ll see when I’m done. Hush.” 

“If you have written graffiti on my body-.” 

“Keep talking and I’ll write the whole of Towards Peace on your back.” Megatron laughed as Optimus clenched his fists. “Oh relax, Prime, I can’t even recite it all from memory anymore. Just stand still, put your arms up, and let me work.” 

After a couple of hours, Megatron stopped. When he told Optimus to look, the Prime reset his optics and stared. The base coat was blue, much like the color of his helm, but the rest of him was accented in white and silver lines along his plating folds. Along his legs were the glyphs of Primus on one side, and the other the glyphs for Cybertron. 

“So, do you hate it?” Megatron asked, in a tone that suggested he didn’t really care one way or the other. 

“No, no, not at all.” Optimus stared down at himself. “It will take some getting used to, but I do, uh, like it.” He smiled at Megatron. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Megatron rolled his optics. “Honestly, I expected you to hate it just to be contrary.” 

“I’m not Starscream.” Optimus reminded him. “But...I think I’ll still need to change my armor. I look very much like my old self, good paint job or not.” 

“True.” Megatron put his hand to his chin. “That outline of yours is definitely one of a kind by this point.” 

“Maybe less armor?” Prime touched his hand to his chest plates. “The Matrix intended for me to be a war general, but a civilian doesn’t need this must protection.” 

“But you’ll need it for your truck alt-mode,” Megatron said. “We’ll have to use something else, then. I’ve got one idea.” 

~~~

“I didn’t realize CR chambers can be utilized this way,” Optimus said as he watched Megatron shift through alt-modes.

“With the old ones we would have needed a trained medic on board to complete the process, but this new CR chamber comes equipped with a few alt-modes.” Megatron hummed in thought. “As you might expect, we can’t choose anything that’s bigger than us, so you can’t turn into a tank and I can’t turn into a shuttle. However, we can choose between a few heavy cars, you can be a pick up truck-Wait, who put Earth vehicles in here?”

Optimus leaned over Megatron’s shoulder to see. “You could become an ambulance? Like Ratchet?” 

“Ah, smart.” Megatron punched in the command codes with a big grin. “Perfect! It’s in here. I’ll be a longer and wider version, but that’s fine.” A projection of Megatron’s new body popped up on screen. “Wow, I’ll be much...smoother and slimmer.” He didn’t sound particularly happy about it. 

“More like you’ll have the illusion of being slimmer.” Optimus pointed out the length of the chest plates. “Look, your armor will just align better with your stomach plates, and your vents will go to the sides. It’s just shifting things around and shaving things off a bit. It’s still you, really, but with the new paint it’s a whole new look.” 

“What about you?” Megatron asked. “Any particular alt-mode catch your optic while we’ve been looking?” 

“Not really, but I will admit I’ve always wanted to try out a new alt-mode. Can I?” Megatron stood up and Optimus sat in the command chair. He used his finger to swipe through the alt-modes. “When Bumblebee changed from a VW bug to a Camero, I was a bit jealous. I don’t think I’m really a sports car type, but something between a car and a truck would be nice.” 

“Like a van?” Megatron teased. 

“No, not a van.” Optimus sighed. “And no, not an SUV either, don’t even.”

“So a hearse?” 

“Must you be such an aft?” Optimus asked, fully knowing the answer. He switched back to the Earth vehicle section, ignoring the groan of disappointment from Megatron. “Oh I think I found it.”

Megatron blinked at the image. “That looks like a kind of truck.” 

“Well, hummers are made like trucks, they’re designed after military humvees. However, they’re a civilian class vehicle and they’re smaller, which is good.” 

“Speaking of smaller, we’re both going to lose some height with these changes.” Megatron sighed. “The alt-mode changes can take away but not add.” He frowned at the projection of Optimus’ new look. “You’re still going to be box like, but your helm changes for a smoother look will help you blend in better.” 

“Yes, and that’s fine. I actually looked like that back when I was a dock worker.” 

“Back when you were a what ?”  Megatron whipped his helm to stare at him. “Explain yourself.” 

Optimus shrugged. “I was a dock worker. Long before I was a police officer, I was originally designed and tasked with working at dockyards. I signed on as a volunteer patrolman and worked my way up to Captain. I thought you knew?” 

“No, I had no idea.” Megatron sounded furious about it. “How did that information never get to my hands? I had everything on you. All your police records, your commendations, your one weekend in Kaon when you came to see me in the gladiator pits in person! Unacceptable.” 

“Sorry,” Optimus said with a laugh, “I guess it was even ancient history by the time the war rolled around. Look, it was what I was forged to do, but it wasn’t my calling. Same as you. You were designed a miner, but had your calling for...well, now to be a medic.” 

“But it changes things!” Megatron argued. “If I had known you were…” Megatron paused. 

Would it have mattered? If he’d been given a report of Optimus Prime as Orion Pax as dock worker before, would it have changed the level of his wrath? His spark sank when he realized that no, not the mech he was at the time. Perhaps it might’ve increased his respect for Prime, but the lack of respect was never the issue. 

“No, no never mind.” Megatron squeezed Optimus’ shoulder plates. “Let’s get this done before we jump. Maybe even get in some recharge.” 

And so they did. Optimus went in first. When he came out, he looked like he had shed a good ton off of his frame, and definitely lost a head of height. Megatron recharged while he waited. When he came in to find Optimus just standing up from the chamber, he snickered.

“What?” Optimus asked as Megatron walked over.

Megatron stopped snickering. “Nothing.” He wouldn’t dare call him ‘tiny Prime’ to his face. Just because Megatron was a pacifist didn’t mean that Optimus wasn’t and wouldn’t deck him in the face for it. He lost some, but not enough that a punch wouldn’t hurt. 

Megatron got into the CR chamber, gently telling Optimus to go recharge before he was submerged. Optimus intended to do exactly that, but when he laid his helm upon his berth he couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, he stood up and walked to the washracks. In there was a mirror, so he could see his reflection. 

The changes were minute, but there. His helm was indeed smoother, lacking the top bits but keeping his audials the same. His faceplate was now permanently gone forever, lost to the dead universe and unable to be added back on in the CR chamber. He touched his face. He’d gone so long with a faceplate on and now he’d have to get used to being exposed. His form was still blocky, but with less harsh edges. 

He gave up on recharge and instead picked up a datapad on the small desk at the end of his berth. He went through a search engine, looking for information about New Cybertron and any other news. Everything came back positive, and he ex-vented in relief. 

Then, an idea hit him, and he began searching for something else.

When Megatron woke up, he found Optimus sitting at the command chair with the datapad in hand. 

“I thought I told you to recharge?” Megatron asked as he stood up. 

Optimus stared at him for a beat. Somehow, Megatron looked almost unrecognizable from the warlord of the past. Even though again the changes weren’t huge, they were more than enough to make no one believe he was Megatron of Tarn. 

“Um, I…” Optimus shook his helm. “I’m not some lackey you can just strong arm around. Also, I was busy working.”

“On what?” Megatron asked as he walked over. 

“On designations.” Optimus showed him the datapad. “We can’t just go around calling ourselves Optimus Prime and Megatron. We need new names, otherwise we’ll get caught almost instantly.” 

“I have some old designations from the Decepticon days.” Megatron picked up the datapad to look. “Old covers for spies and such.”

“Oh, and what are those names?”

“Bonecruncher of Kaon, Needlebiter of Kaon, and Smokestake of-.”

“No.” Optimus cringed. “I’m not taking any of those options.” Optimus pointed at the pad. “Besides, I think this one suits you best.” 

~~~

At New Crystal City, Megatron and Optimus walked off the gangway together. Optimus followed a step behind Megatron. The welcome party consisted of two mechs who looked civilian and one knight with a serious frown on his face. 

“Hello there!” The first mech called out. “Welcome, welcome!” He walked up with a friendly wave. “I am Tetra, and this is my brother Giga. Our friendly knight over there is Talon.” Talon nodded but said nothing. 

Megatron nodded to both of them in kind. “Greetings, I am Mender, and this is my friend, Oquarix.” 

“Lovely to meet you both!” Giga said. “Please, tell us why you’ve arrived.” 

“We are here to find a place for ourselves. We’ve grown tired of faction disputes and seek peace,” Optimus said with a soft tone. 

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” said Tetra. “Please be aware, our immigration policy dictates that we search your vessel and yourselves. We do not allow outside weapons or otherwise illegal contraband into the city limits. We will be interviewing you both separately to gauge authenticity and we will be doing a background check.”

“Of course, please proceed.” Megatron said as he bowed with a gesture towards his vessel. “We were considering selling the vessel anyway for accomodations.” 

“Oh, well that won’t be necessary!” Tetra exclaimed. “Once you’ve passed the checks, we will provide you with accommodations. We will also help you to find employment here.” 

Giga nodded. “Yes, you may keep your shuttle at our docking bay. There is a rental fee, but we will waive it until you receive your first salary.”

Megatron turned to Optimus. He said over their comm link, “What do you think? Keep or sell?” 

“Sell.” Optimus said over the comm immediately. “I would rather we bought something new than keep a stolen ship on their bay.” 

Megatron turned to Tetra. “Thank you very much, but I think we won’t be needing the vessel past today. We’re looking for a home, and I hope we’ve found one here.” 

And with that, the ship was looked over, passed inspection, and sold all within the solar cycle. Megatron/ Mender and Optimus/ Oquarix went through the interviews with little trouble. Their cover story was half truthful. They went through the war together, but decided it was time to create a new life without factions dividing people. After they lost everything to the Unicron War, they headed off in search of a safe haven in New Crystal City. 

Their accommodation was a small apartment in the outskirts with other immigrants. There was only one room, but two berths, so it could work. A small living room space with a sliver of a bar separating it from the refueling station. Only one washrack, sadly, but they could make do. 

“It’s not exactly paradise,” Tetra said, “but it’s designed for those of your height. We’ve been getting a bit cramped as more refugees come from the Unicron War, much like yourselves. Please, let us know if you need anything.” 

Giga told them, “I’ll be in touch on employment opportunities. Until then, do just get to know the city and the neighbors.” 

As they left, Optimus locked the door behind them. Megatron sat on the diminutive couch and sighed. “Well, I’ve stayed in far worse over the years.” 

“It’s fine.” Optimus nodded as he walked over to the refueling station. “For now, it’s a place to stay.” 

Optimus wanted to meet the new neighbors. Megatron didn’t, but decided to go along anyway. This time, it was Optimus introducing them to the neighbors on the left. Thanks to “Oquarix’s” charisma, both neighbors loved them and wanted them over for a movie night sometime soon. Megatron couldn’t wait to hate it. 

Then, Optimus wanted to go around the city. Megatron did want to survey the land. He knew at some point soon he’d have to find Nightingale for a discussion on training more as a medic. They walked and walked around, finding a plethora of entertainment venues. Optimus pointed at various architectual wonders, and Megatron pointed out security features he noticed. The city was covered in cameras and knights walked throughout the streets. Unlike the badgeless forces, according to Optimus, the knights seemed much more friendly. Many of them stopped to chat with various people on the streets, obviously friends with them or family. 

It turned into a very nice stroll, really. Megatron noticed how Optimus was allowing himself to get swept up in it, just enjoying the newness of the city. 

“Did you ever get a chance to just go around Earth?” He asked over the comm link.

“Yes, when we were in disguise.” Optimus grinned at him. “I went all over the place. There’s this stretch of road in Canada I loved. If you went on really deep winter nights, you could drive under the aurora lights. It was beautiful, Megatron.” He turned left and right with a wide grin on his face. “I always wanted to come here, but I never got the chance. Drift always said it was amazing to see, but he didn’t do it justice.” 

“Did he ever, uh, read your aura?” Megatron asked. 

“I believe he said something about it being ‘bright like a star, but kind as the wind,’ whatever that means.” Optimus pointed over to the right. He said aloud, “I think that’s the library. Want to take a look?” 

“Yes, free books and movies, let’s do that.” Megatron didn’t want to spend any of their shanix if they could avoid it. Everything in the city was actually reasonable, for all its oppalant looking exterior, but he still wanted to save it. A new apartment was definitely in the near future as soon as they could afford one. 

~~~

A mere ten years later, they had their new place. Optimus carried most of their stuff into the city in his hummer mode. Megatron was allowed to go as an ambulance, but he knew from past experience that meant he might get asked for help by a knight or two along the way. He spent his time packing their few belongings together. 

Megatron had his shift at Nightingale’s Clinic in an hour. Optimus was heading off to the library to archive some new books and movies from Earth after he dropped the first boxes off. He was put in charge of the whole foreign section as soon as he said, “I’ve been to Earth,” their second time in the library. Apparently Cybertronians loved Earth movies, who knew?

Megatron called up Optimus over his comm, “Did you arrive without incident?” 

There was a laugh over the link. “Without incident? Yes, I arrived without any issues, sir.” 

“Don’t make me toss out your little plant collection,” Megatron threatened. 

“You wouldn’t, they’re living things.” 

“Barely qualifies.” Megatron locked the door as he left the apartment. “I’m heading off. It looks to be only one more load left.” 

“I’ll get it after my shift. Have fun at work.”

“Ha! Don’t be an aft.” Megatron cut off the link as he transformed into ambulance mode. He arrived at the clinic with time to spare. He jogged up the stairs and went down the hallway. At the end was Nightingale. She was a medic from a colony, never said which one, but Megatron could guess. She decided to join New Crystal City after hating the Iacon of Starscream’s reign. 

She’d taken Megatron on as an apprentice, but not happily. She glared at him as he entered. “So good of you to join us, Mender.” She pointed to a chair in the corner. “Have a seat, take notes.” 

Megatron nodded and did as ordered. He took out a datapad from his subspace and took notes diligently. He wasn’t entirely sure why she despised him, although it was refreshing to eliminate the “because I’m Megatron and everyone hates me” from the list of possibilities. Perhaps because he was obviously reformatted? Perhaps because he was a mech? Perhaps because she felt he didn’t afford her some cultural respect he didn’t know about? He didn’t really mind. Regardless of the mysterious hatred thrown his way, Megatron knew he was performing adequately. 

He patched people up regularly. Thanks to his time in the Fundamentalist version of Cybertron, he already knew most of what Nightingale taught him. However, she did manage to teach him something new. One of the disadvantages to learning in wartime was that one never really got around to finding out the basic rules of things. So much had to get done on the fly, and efficiency often meant getting the mech fixed rather than fully repaired, and in their line of work there was a distinctive difference. 

Nightingale finished her lecture and asked him comprehension questions. Megatron answered them to the best of his ability. It was funny that a femme half his size now had such overwhelming power over his employment prospects, but Megatron was determined to make this work. Even if she had him under thumb for over a hundred years, he’d put up with it. 

After all, there was still over four hundred and fifty left to go before Optimus could leave. 

~~~

Optimus was at their new place putting things away when he returned late at night. “How did it go this time?” he asked, his voice oozing sympathy. 

Megatron shrugged as he locked the door behind him. “She was about as chipper as usual. I didn’t have to clean the beakers, so let’s call it a win.” He walked over and fell backwards onto the couch. “Ah, it’s so nice to have furniture that isn’t used.” 

Optimus came over to glare down at him. “I could use a hand with these boxes.” 

“I packed them,” Megatron protested, “and your boss actually likes you.” 

Optimus rolled his optics. “He’s still getting my name wrong. Oquarix isn’t that hard to remember, is it?” 

“I wouldn’t know, I still call you Optimus or Prime most of the time.” Megatron put his hands together in a gesture he’d adopted from the New Crystal City culture. He looked like he was praying, but it was a common gesture for asking favors. “Just give me a little time to relax, then I’ll help with the boxes.” 

“Fine.” Optimus walked over to the refueling station. It looked much more like a proper kitchen might look on Earth. It was one of the many reasons Optimus wanted it. They could afford it, even though the down payment hit their savings hard. He got himself an energon cube and tapped one more for his lazy roommate. 

They still shared a room, but neither one of them minded. Optimus still sometimes woke up in the middle of recharge from a nightmare, but Megatron would be waiting with a sedative and an energon cube. “You’re in New Crystal City and you’re safe.” 

Optimus turned to stare at Megatron. They’d gotten comfortable quickly for two mechs who tried to kill each other over and over again. Megatron was staring at the ceiling, no doubt just processing everything he’d learned in the solar cycle. Optimus smiled at him sadly. He knew in his spark it couldn’t last forever. Right? Eventually, Megatron would become a medic, fully licensed and registered under his new name. 

And when he did, his mission with Optimus would reach its time limit. Optimus knew he needed to return, but he’d keep his promise. No matter what, he would protect this new life Megatron created for himself. Mender was a good mech who would go on to save countless lives, an infinitely better judgement than lifetime imprisonment. 

It might not tip the scales of all the dead to all the living, but it was better than the alternative. Optimus walked over and pushed the energon into Megatron’s servo. 

“Here, drink up.” Optimus sat on the floor with his back to the couch. “We’ve got a lot to do.” 

~~~

A hundred and twenty years passed by without much change. Optimus and Megatron started calling each other Oquarix and Mender even in private. Megatron had nearly slipped more than once, so they agreed only on comm link messages from that point onwards. Oquarix was in charge of the New Crystal Library’s complete historical archives of the Primes, Earth, and the foreign section. He was moving up pretty quickly, loving the amount of reading he got to do. As a Prime, he never got to indulge in his favorite past time much. It was strange, doing something he loved for a living. 

Mender managed to become an assistant nurse of sorts. Nightingale still hated him for some strange reason, but Mender just let her bad temper flow off of him like water. He still listened attentively, still did exactly as she said, and took all of her advice under consideration. He upgraded from simple fixes to now assisting in surgery and some emergency situations. He didn’t complain when his hours increased with the work. He knew it would come with the job. 

Oquarix and Mender spent there off hours usually together. Oquarix liked to watch movies or TV shows when he wasn’t reading, often torturing Mender with human poetry. Mender liked to actually go do something active, like sparring. He took up classes with the Local Knights chapter for some sword work. Although he vowed never to harm anyone ever again, learning a whole new fighting style was a bit too tempting. Also, sword fighting! Come on. Oquarix took up the craft as well, although in his new form he found his center of gravity had shifted. It took a long time to get used to it, so he was playing catch up in the sparring arenas.

But it wasn’t always smooth sailing. 

“I can’t believe you would make that kind of decision without me!” Oquarix shouted at him. “Buying a whole apartment? Really?”

“You like this apartment!” Mender shouted back. “You’ve put enough tiny plants in it to make a miniature forest. I didn’t want to bother you at work. What’s the big deal? We’ll get the money back within two hundred years. It’s only logical!” 

“It’s a place for two!” Oquarix shouted. “Two people, two decisions to make, and you took it all on yourself! Just like the decision to come here was all your idea.”

“Oh, are we doing this?” Mender said through gritted denta. “Is that what this is about? Fine, let’s have at it then!” 

“I didn’t get a choice on New Crystal City. It is beautiful, but it’s not home, Mender!” 

“Home is gone! It is gone. Unicron killed it, Oquarix. He tore it asunder. They are still rebuilding on Golam Prime, but it’ll never be the home we knew.” Mender slammed his hand against the table in the middle of the living room. “You can’t keep living in the past! It’s over! It’s done!” 

“I was chosen to lead our people, and I can’t ignore that calling! No matter what, I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I can’t keep living a life, neglecting my duties-.” 

“Stop playing the fragging martyr!” Megatron stomped over to him. “You did it. You saved them. You saved them over and over and over again. The Matrix is dead! You died! How much more can you possibly give them before it’s enough?” 

“Everything, I am supposed to give them everything. I can’t turn my back on it all. I’m not like you!” Oquarix froze as soon as he said it. 

“Not like me?” Mender sneered at him. “You mean you’re not evil? Selfish? Hands bloodied by years of war? Is that what you think?” Mender grabbed Oquarix’s wrists and raised them to eye level. “Are your hand so clean? Are you really that good, Oquarix? We both made decisions that cost lives. Don’t look down on me when you have a death list just as long as mine.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Oquarix struggled in his hold. “You’re twisting my words to suit your narrative, not mine! I only meant that I can’t deceive myself into this life. I can’t pretend my past means nothing to me. I can’t deny who I am!” 

“Who you were! Were! The life you had before was full of pain and misery, just like mine. You hid it better, you suffered well, but you didn’t live. I don’t care how much you loved those friends of yours, I don’t care how much you sacrificed in the name of that bedamned destiny, you weren’t living a life. It was just as much as lie as this one! If not more!” Mender released Oquarix’s arms with a flick of his wrists and turned away. 

“That’s not true.” Oquarix said, voice low. “It wasn’t a lie. Everything I did had meaning, it was-.” 

“It was what everyone else wanted you to be. You did what you were supposed to do as the bearer of the Matrix, not as Orion Pax, and certainly not as Optimus. You said yourself you tried to live a different life and failed. We’ve lived together long enough for me to put the pieces together. They refused to change to your preferred name. They refused to give you the life you wanted.” 

“NO!” Oquarix shook his helm in denial. “Don’t you dare! They cared about me, but they also needed me! They needed me to be their leader. Cybertron-.” 

“IS FRAGGING GONE!” Mender slammed his fist into the table, shattering it in half. The metal cracked and splintered into fragments all over the room. Mender gasped and looked at Oquarix, worried he might’ve hurt him. 

Oquarix was shaking, gritting his denta together. “I didn’t want this.” 

Mender growled, at the end of his tether. “Then leave! GET OUT!” He stomped away to their shared room, locking the door behind him. 

He heard the sound of their front door opening and Oquarix speeding off into the night. Mender let out a long in vent and sat on his berth.

As suddenly as it came, his anger left, and his spark felt heavy in his chest. He dropped his head and cradled his helm in his servos. 

~~~

Mender came out of the room far later to fix the table. He had a welding torch for work in his kit. He could use some spare scrap from the storage closet. Good as new. He focused on the task for hours, letting himself get lost in just picking up the pieces and trying to put them back together. He sighed bent and repaired the table legs. 

He hadn’t meant to lose his cool. He forgot, somehow, how easily they could hurt each other with just words alone. His chronometer told him it was near sunrise. Packing away the torch and tilting the table back up, Mender heard the sound of a vehicle pulling in. He waited frozen in the living room until Oquarix opened the door. 

They stared at each other for a moment. Oquarix wordlessly picked up a fallen chair and put it back under the table. Mender did the same. They sat across from each other in silence for a time. 

Oquarix broke it first. “I’m sorry.” He put his servos on the table, entwining them. “It wasn’t fair of me to say all those things. I shouldn’t have brought up something like that, not when this argument had nothing to do with that, I…”

“I apologize, too.” Mender sighed. He hesitated as he lifted a servo. He reached across the table slowly, and covered Oquarix’s. “I didn’t mean to belittle your life as Prime. I know it meant everything to you. I know it wasn’t a lie. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

“And I shouldn’t have ever implied you didn’t care about Cybertron or the past.” Oquarix dropped his helm. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate all of this. I don’t want you to think it isn’t good, because it is. It is so good here, Megatron.” He faltered and started to shake. “I’m sorry, that’s not your name-.”

“It is.” Mender squeezed Oquarix’s servos. “It is just as much my designation as Mender. I’m not running from it. I’m just...reformatting it into something new.” 

Oquarix shook his helm. “But I’m not Optimus Prime anymore.” He did a harsh in vent, trembling from helm to pede. “I’m not, and I know I’m not.” He dropped his helm down lower. “You were right. Even when I asked, even when I tried so hard, they would never allow me to just be me. Orion Pax was a Captain, Optimus was a Prime, but I am none of those things.” 

Oquarix slid his servos out from Mender’s grip to cover his face. “But if I’m not those things, I don’t know who to be. I try and try but nothing feels like me. And I don’t deserve to feel good, not after all the things I’ve done, not after all the thousands of years of failing my planet-.”

“Prime, no,” Mender shot up from his chair and walked around the table, “you did not fail Cybertron.” 

“But it’s gone, Megatron, it’s gone.”

“And that was not your fault!” Mender hesitated for a brief second before he put his arms around Oquarix in a tight hug. “You couldn’t have stopped Unicron.” 

“But what if I’d had the Matrix?” Oquarix keened into his servos. “What if I had fought Starscream for the rule of Cybertron? What if-?”

“Prime, stop.” Mender crushed him closer. “Is that how you’ve been thinking? All this time? Optimus, you’ll drive yourself crazy tormenting yourself like this.” He dropped his helm to connect with the top of Oquarix’s. “There was no way to predict all the forces that were thrown at us in those final years. Thunderblast, D-Void, Shockwave, those thrice damned Primes, and so much more in between fighting each other? You brought Cybertron back to life. You saved it, you gave us our home back.” 

“You helped.” Optimus reminded him. “I’m glad you broke yourself out of that ship, by the way.” 

“Yes, well, it was sort of planned from the beginning of my surrender.” Mender chuckled, but it lacked mirth. “I threw the word martyr in your face, but that’s why you won in the end. I wasn’t willing to die for Cybertron. My plans all led to me winning in the end. I would always survive. Your strategy would always involve the last hail Mary: giving your own life up for everyone else. That’s what a leader should be willing to do for his people, and you did.” 

“I just wish I could’ve done more.” Oquarix put his hands down. His optics were leaking small lines of coolant. “And I can’t help thinking maybe there is more I should do?” 

“Alright, alright, new deal.” Mender got down on one knee, releasing Oquarix from his hold. He put up one servo to Oquarix’s face, thumbing away a line of tears. “We’ll keep an eye on the news. If anything world destroying or otherwise more than we think the Cybertronians can handle, then we haul aft back to Earth or Gorlam Prime or whatever to help.”  

Oquarix blinked down at him. “Really? You mean it? But your pacifism.”

“Wars will always need medics.” Mender grinned. “You can pick up the Prime mantle for a bit if you so choose, but I’ll just stay as I am.” He caressed the side of Oquarix’s helm. “But you’re still mine for the next three hundred and plus years. So you’ll have to come back to me, come back as Oquarix until then.” 

Oquarix put his servo over Mender’s and smiled. He breathed out a heavy sigh. “I agree. Thank you for understanding.” He winced a bit as he said, “Also, yes, buying the apartment was the more logical decision. Sorry.”

“No, I’ll talk to you before we make any more big purchases or some other kind of life choices.” Mender stood up, still keeping his servo on Oquarix’s cheek. “And we should talk more, I think, not just about movies or poetry. We need to talk about the war, we need to talk about who were were, who we are, and who we are becoming.” 

Oquari nodded. “I agree. Huh, when did you get so wise?” 

Mender gave him a sardonic smile. “There is the old truism, we gain wisdom through suffering.” His smile fell. “I suppose the joke is on me and I became very wise that way.” 

~~~

A hundred years passed with only a few cataclysms, and only one that seemed world ending bad. Oquarix ran off when there was a battle on Earth between it and some Quintessons trying to enslave humanity. Mender covered for him at work, saying a distant relative died. Mender was going to ask for time off to join him when Oquarix returned within a month. 

“How did it go?” Mender asked as they met up at a restaurant in the central part of the city. 

Oquarix ordered energex for them both as well as rust sticks. “Surprisingly well. The humans have advanced with the help of Windblade and, get this, Elita-1 aiding them in military matters.” 

“I thought Elita-1 hated everything that wasn’t in her ship?” Mender asked as he sat down. 

“Apparently she’s formed a rather deep affection for this group of space marines called the Mobile Infantry. She’s even given them one-on-one training. They did a marvelous job with the new Space Fleet in driving back the Quintessons.” 

“And...how are you?” Mender asked. He switched to the comm link. “Did you go as Prime or no?” 

Oquarix shook his head, cutting off the comm link. He said aloud, “I’m fine.” He shrugged. “It’s oddly nice to help but know I’m not really needed. But also a bit embarrassing? I’ve been beating myself up over nothing.” 

“Caring for others isn’t something to be ashamed of. Took me thousands of years to get there, but I got there.” Their drinks and food arrived. Mender picked up a rust stick and munched down on it. “Did anyone recognize you? See any familiar faces?” 

“Only in passing.” Oquarix’s optics shone with mirth. “I saw Drift and Rodimus. They were holding hands in the aftermath.” 

“Good.” Mender sipped on his energex with a small smile. “About damn time, too. Ratchet would’ve wanted him to be happy. They make a good team. So confirmed? Conjunx endura?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” Oquarix propped up his helm on a servo. “I was very tempted to intervene, but I didn’t want to blow my cover. I saw Windblade with Starscream.”

“What? He’s alive?!” Mender groaned and rolled his optics. “Why am I even surprised? Do any of us stay dead anymore?” 

“Apparently,” Oquarix said with a small smirk, “Starscream haunted Bumblebee for a time. Then, he would appear in Windblade’s tower. Turns out he’s one of the rare Eternal Sparks of myth.” 

“No!” Mender’s mouth hung open. “Him? That traitorous, pompous little twit?!”

“I know, but guess what? Confirmed conjunx endura.” Oquarix laughed at Mender’s absolute disgust of the whole situation. “Sorry, Mender, it was a public ceremony and everything. Windblade went across the galaxy to find his spark and bring it back. He’s blue now, he looks very regal. Also, he went through the rituals!”

“What was one of his acts of kindness? A plate with his own face on it?” Mender said in disdain. 

“No,” Oquarix’s optics softened. “He designed their daughter.” He pulled out a datapad from his subspace, showing a small red femme seeker on the hip of an undeniably bigger and upgraded Starscream. 

“Oh grand, now he’s breeding.” Mender curled up his lip plates. “And what position of power does he have now?” 

“He’s a scientist.” Oquarix laughed as Mender nearly choked on his drink. “Sorry, all around I think you’re going to be disappointed. He’s actually managing to turn his, well, second life around.” He slid the photo to reveal Windblade now. Their child was holding her hand, and Starscream stood on the right smiling down at them both. 

“Unbelievable,” Mender said, crossing his arms. “I hate all of this.” 

Oquarix chuckled at his response. “I feel the need to forewarn you, the last part is the worst.” 

He slid the photo to the next slide showing two other little seekers suddenly appearing on their very exasperated dad’s shoulders.

“The spark split. They ended up with a trine.” 

~~~

It took over four hundred years before Mender discovered why Nightingale hated him so much. He’d asked for a promotion to ER medic, only to get pushed aside for a new intern. It was inconceivable, so much so that the rest of the clinic nurses asked around for him to figure out just what the frag happened. Codered finally told him over his comm link near the end of his shift.

“Get this, the cold glitch says that ‘you’re not passionate enough.’ And also, the new guy said, ‘he was told that no one else was built for the job.’ That fragging piece of slag is not only keeping you down because you’re not rising to her bait, she’s an elitist! Sorry, I know you hate human slang, but WHAT A BITCH!” 

Mender thanked her absently for the information. He strode quickly to Nightingale’s office. He locked the door behind him as she lifted her helm to stare at him. 

“Can I help you, Mender?” She asked with her usual contempt. 

“It has come to my attention that the reason you loathe me is because you think I lack passion.” He enunciated each word in a harsh rhythm. 

“Well, I…” Nightingale shifted in her seat and then said, “I suppose in some instances I would’ve liked to have seen more-.”

“And that I’m not, and I quote, built. For. The. Job.” Mender stalked up to her desk. 

Nightingale balked at his words. “I don’t know who told you that, but I certainly would never-.” 

“I fought in a war.” Mender said with clenched fists. “I fought in war because there was a system in place to keep me down. I fought for thousands of years to crawl out of the hole they put me into. Do you want to know what I was before? I was a miner. I wanted to be so many things. A poet, a writer, a medic, but none of those things were allowed for me!” 

Mender flung his hand and gestured out to New Crystal City. “Look at the world you’re in! Safe, beautiful, and oh so sheltered from the reality that it was built by that same system! Those medic mechs you so adore? Forged for this job. I fought for eons to get to this damned office.” 

Mender put his arm down. “I was abused, tortured, and nearly killed by the Functionist way of life. You want to embrace it in this new world? The one that Optimus Prime died to change? Be my guest. I outlasted an entire civil war. I will outlast you. I will work from the very bottom to the top all over again. I don’t care how badly you treat me.” 

He sneered at her. “I’m accustomed to dealing with petty harassment from so-called higher ups who look down upon me. But you could never be on their level of hatred. You could never even aspire to be. Do you know what they used on me when they shut down my refinery? Bullets and batons, Nightingale. My friends died and I couldn’t do anything to save them.” 

He invented and exvented, counted to ten, but it didn’t work. “I want to save lives not because it looks good on paper, not because I want or need a damn promotion. I am trying every single day to balance the harm that I did. I don’t know if I can ever break even, but I want to try. My passion is not ever going towards dealing with your taunts or barbs. I will be putting forth every single iota of it into my patients and their care. I’ve got thousands of years to make up for, and I will not spend a second of it giving you the benefit of a witless verbal spar.” 

He bowed in front of her in mock respect. “And now there you have my passion, medic Nightingale.” He glared at her as she at her desk in complete shock. “I hope it satisfies you to see it.” 

And with that, Mender left to go finish his rotation. 

~~~

“I am probably very fired.” Mender said as he came home. 

Oquarix got up from the table to go over to him. “What happened?” 

“I finally told her off.” Mender said, forlornly. “I just snapped. I heard she didn’t think I was passionate enough for this promotion, and this newly minted youngling gets it, and I just-ugh. I need a drink. Let’s go to Jolt’s Oil House. I need something strong.” 

They rode over quick. As usual they got into a booth in the back. Mender put his back to the wall so he could take stock of all the bar and its patrons (old habits, yada yada), while Oquarix sat with his back to the side wall so he could look around but also talk to Mender. 

“I think you did the right thing,” Oquarix said after Mender finished his tale of woe. “And I don’t think she’ll fire you over it, surely? I mean, we said in our interviews we came from Cybertron. It can’t be that much of a stretch to imagine us as once being fighters in the war?” 

“We didn’t confess to it at the time, though.” Mender sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll try to find a new medic to apprentice under. I doubt anyone has spots available, but it’s worth a shot.” 

“Don’t go looking just yet. We can talk with Tetra or Giga about something later. Wait until you get fired, then at least you’ll get a severance. I still doubt you will.” Oquarix put his hand over Mender’s and squeezed. “I’m proud of you for finally standing up for yourself, regardless.”

“Thank you.” Mender squeezed his hand back. “I didn’t realize it was affecting me, though, that I was seeing her as like them. I should’ve probably quit earlier.” 

“But you’re stubborn.” Oquarix grinned at him. “The second most stubborn mech in the universe.” 

Mender laughed darkly as he chugged his energex down. “You only win because you’re too stubborn to die.” 

“Don’t feel bad,” Oquarix said as he sipped on his oil. “We’re in this together, you know? Still a good hundred ish years to kill.” 

“I know.” Mender looked down at their clasped hands and smiled faintly. “I guess I just keep expecting to be the one holding it all together still. The army…” He went to the comm link. “The Decepticons were always fractured and divided over the smallest things. While it’s true we came from all walks of life, it also meant everyone had their own ambitions. It was my job to bring them all together, to unite under my cause.” 

Oquarix nodded his helm and responded over comm, “I know, it wasn’t easy for me, either. While in the beginning I did have a small advantage of mechs all from middle caste and higher, it did become more difficult with each passing century to keep their morale up and to fight as a cohesive whole.” 

“I remember when you opened the ranks to all castes.” Mender raised his hand for another energex, signaling for two to the barkeep. “I lost a good portion of my lower ranks.” 

“It was so difficult for them. I still feel guilt over it. I welcomed them, but I hadn’t set up a system for them before they came. It was awful, for a few years.” Oquarix broke out of the comm and spoke aloud. “I think if I were Nightingale I would be impressed with your fortitude. Your determination to succeed in this dream is admirable. If she can’t see that, well, she can suck slag.” 

Caught off guard, Mender laughed out loud. “By Primus, I never expected those words to come out of your mouth.” 

“What can I say?” Oquarix finished his oil with a cheeky grin. “Sometimes change is good.” 

~~~ 

Mender stared at the ceiling that night. He listened to Oquarix’s soft inventing in his recharge. He turned to helm to look. Oquarix hadn’t suffered from a night terror in ten years. It was a record, and it spoke volumes about Oquarix finally feeling safe, even in his subroutines. With a soft sigh, Mender turned on his side to just watch Oquarix sleep. 

Not that long ago, he would’ve taken this opportunity to either capture or kill Optimus Prime. Probably capture, but it really depended on his mood and how much his army suffered from a recent Autobot attack. Not even as long ago as some of their campaigns, he would’ve tried to find a way to use this trust in him for some nefarious long con. Perhaps he would make Prime believe in him, only to then sell him to those Quintessons for a life of slavery or death. 

Mender sat up in his berth. He walked over on soft pedes to Oquarix’s berthside. He sat down gently upon it so as to not disturb the resting mech. He put a servo to his chestplates, trying to analyze this ache in his spark. 

The thought of his death hurt, Mender realized with a start. The thought of Oquarix or Optimus or Orion gone, it hurt him. He bit his lip plates and wondered. 

Could he live without Oquarix without his side? 

“I think I love you,” Mender whispered into the night. “But how could you ever love me in return?” 

~~~

Mender was called into Nightingale’s office the next solar cycle. He braced himself, already planning ahead in his processor for a new medic to apprentice under. He’d made a list on his datapad after he couldn’t fall into recharge. He’d talk to Tetra and Giga as soon as he left. With a severance and their savings, they’d make it through a few lunar cycles without needing a new job. Besides, their apartment was paid for, so ha! 

Mender entered the room and bowed politely. “You asked to see me.” 

“Yes, please have a seat.” Nightingale motioned to the chair across from her desk. 

Mender did as requested. He waited for the hammer to come down. 

“I feel I owe you a very sincere apology.” Nightingale said as she picked up a datapad. “I must admit, looking back at my own notes, I do appear to hold some rather prejudicial language when I refer to you. I had Medical Councilor, Breakthrough, take a look. He was most disappointed in me. I hope you don’t mind, but I shared an edited version of your story. He made me see that I was not fair with you.” 

She put down her datapad and sighed. “And as for your passion, I will admit I was taken aback that you didn’t fight with me when I poked and prodded at you. I was trained by a smartaft of a surgeon on my home planet, and from this background I came to see it as imperative training to find the right medics who would fight to be here.” 

She locked optics with him. “It never occurred to me that I could be abusing you. I didn’t see it that way. I saw it as a method of weeding out the weak links in the herd. But the way you looked at me and the way you spoke to me wasn’t weak, and the way you’ve stood your ground all this time thinking I was doing it on purpose to hurt you-.” She broke off and turned away. 

“I’m sorry. My actions are not in line with our code. We do no harm we cannot prevent. I could’ve prevented this pain by discussing any of my misgivings with you at any time, but I didn’t. My prejudice and my lack of experience as a clinical leader are no excuse. If you will stay, I will endeavor to change my way of leadership, and I will be putting you into top consideration for another promotion in the future. It’s not much, but I hope you will accept this offer.” 

Mender stared at her in awe. He carefully thought through everything she said in his processor. 

He finally said gently, “I will apologize for only one thing. You are not the same as the Functionist overseers.” He gave her a half smile. “They would never apologize or admit they were wrong. You are better than them.” 

He sighed and nodded his helm. “I accept the offer.”  

~~~

Another fifty years passed, and Oquarix ran off once more to Gorlam Prime when the Quintessons returned. Mender followed right after him a few days later, telling the clinic he was using his vacation days he hadn’t spent in over four hundred years. Mech resources was very excited about it for some reason. 

Mender signed on as a volunteer medic and hit the ground running in the battlefields. He patched up wounded at such high speeds he astonished every single one of the triage leaders. It stroked his ego a bit to discover he was really was good at his job, even better with actual training. 

He called on comm link to Oquarix. “I’m at the battlefield over in the New Iacon. Also, why is everything new plus old names?” 

“Don’t know, but it is rather annoying right? Hold on.” There was a brief grunt and static then Oquarix was back on the comm. “I’m still under Oquarix, not Prime. I think it’s not necessary, not yet.” 

“Good, let’s try to keep it that way.” Mender pushed out to the frontlines, dodged and weaving behind cover. “You know, this actually feels rather homey.” 

“Honestly, Megatron!” Oquarix groaned. “Great, another ship incoming. The reinforcements aren’t here yet.” 

“Is this like Chicago bad or Iacon invasion bad?” Mender asked as he grabbed ahold of a mech cut in half by laserfire. He immediately started shutting the energon lines off, putting in loops so his spark could stay energized. 

“Definitely not Iacon bad, although a Combiner would be great right about now.” 

Mender dragged the mech backwards into a ditch. “Stay here, keep firing at your enemy!” He turned around and went back for more. He got back on comm. “Any turrets?” 

“Negative, they’re all shot to slag.” 

“Cannon? Surely someone has got a cannon.”

“None, cannons were never the standard, you know that. It takes a big mech and a lot of energon to keep that in motion in battle.” 

“Fair point.” Mender grabbed a femme with a lost arm and dragged her back to the ditch. “Alright, if you can’t shoot them down, then you have to get up there.” 

“Steal a shuttle?” 

“Perfect. Put bombs in it and put in on autopilot.” Mender saw a grenade his the ground beside him. Without skipping a beat, he picked it up and threw it back at the Quintesson who tossed it. “I’m getting busy out here. Call if you need more advice.” 

~~~

Between Oquarix and Mender, they managed to take down four enemy ships with tactics and a lot of luck, which is really all they used to have in their war anyway. They rendezvoused at a triage camp on the outskirts of New Iacon. Oquarix and Mender hugged as soon as they were in arms reach. 

“I’m a war hero.” Oquarix proclaimed as he stepped back from the hold. 

“And water is wet, what’s new?” Mender scoffed. 

“I’m getting an award and everything.” Oquarix shrugged. “Want to come see? There will be awful energex knock offs as compensation for my bravery.” 

“Sure, let me just check I’m not needed and I’ll follow you back.” 

They walked through the camp together, surveying the various battalions and contengents celebrating the victory. Mender and Oquarix shared a secretive smirk as they watched the military mechs and femmes mingle, unknowing of the legends walking in their midst. 

Mender asked over the comm, “Did you used to do this? Do a walk through after?” 

“Of course, whenever I could,” Oquarix pointed over to some mechs about to get into a fight, “I would’ve been telling off these younglings to knock it off.” 

“Very different leadership styles.” Mender smirked at the sight. “I would’ve told them if they wanted to fight to do it until one of them isn’t standing.” 

“That’s awful!”Oquarix frowned at him in disapproval.

“Relax, different methods but same expected outcome. They always groveled to not do it.” Mender laughed as he saw a familiar red mech get in between them. “Looks like Ironhide has it under control.” 

“Yes, he always did.” Oquarix gazed upon his friend with sadness. 

“Do you want to tell him?” Mender asked, not allowing the panic to come into his comm voice. 

“No, not really.” Oquarix took Mender’s servo and squeezed it. “There’s still time for just us.” 

“Good, because my hatred for Starscream definitely trumps your love for Ironhide.” Mender glared daggers as Starscream walked past them, three seekers keeping his servos full and busy. “I’m suddenly struck with overwhelming sadness at my pacifism.” 

“Shut up and walk, Megatron,” Oquarix ordered as he tugged on Mender’s hand. 

~~~

Mender watched the procession of “war heroes” line up to get a shiny trinket on their chassis. He sighed in boredom as Oquarix stood waiting. He decided the best course of action was to continue annoying him over their comm link. 

“I see Arcee is here but not Alerion. Aren’t they glued to the hip?” Mender asked, not really caring.

“Arcee is better at killing than Alerion. Also, Alerion is helping Thundercracker and Skywarp on Earth with some Air Force project. It’s supposed to help with fighting the Quintessons.” Oquarix took a step forward and shot him a soft glare as he did. “If you’re so bored, then tell me about your latest surgery fellowship.” 

“It’s also boring.” Mender glared back. “And I’m not even a week in, so you could try-.” 

Oquarix’s optics went wide and he pointed in horror. Mender frowned and turned to see what scared him. Soundwave stared back at him. Mender didn’t move, didn’t even invent. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t. Soundwave, for his part, said nothing in return. 

The silence stretched on for too long. Mender felt the need to break it first. 

“Hello Commander Soundwave,” Mender said, firm and resolute. “Didn’t expect to see a mech of your caliber at a simple event such as this one.” 

“Normally I’m not interested in such displays.” Soundwave came to stand by his side. “But I felt a familiar presence, so I came to see what it was.” 

Mender turned to look and saw Oquarix get the medal placed upon him. He turned to give Mender a miserable smile as he walked off the small platform. 

“Soundwave, please,” Mender said over his comm link, “we’re not the mechs we once were, please don’t-.” 

“I knew.” Soundwave cut him off. “I read Rodimus’ thoughts when he came back from the mission. I covered the shuttle’s tracks, resetting its tracker every other solar cycle.” 

“You did?” Mender scrunched up his forehead. “But why?” 

“Because Optimus Prime is dead.” Soundwave put a hand on Mender’s shoulders. “I may have lost my respect for the once Lord Megatron, but I gained a new perspective on life thanks to Optimus Prime.” He turned to Mender. “And I thank his friend, Mender, for Oquarix.” He nodded his helm and bowed as he stepped back. “I will keep the secret, in honor of old alliances and new.” 

Mender felt his frame begin to shake. “Thank you, my old friend.” 

Just as Oquarix ran up to his side, Soundwave was walking away. 

“What happened?” Oquarix grabbed his servo. “Are we exposed?”

“No.” Mender gave him a reassuring smile. “He’s keeping our secret.” He squeezed Oquarix’s servo gently. “We’re still safe.” 

~~~

When they arrived back at New Crystal City, Oquarix acted strangely. Mender wondered if the battle brought up old stress again, and stayed awake just in case the night terrors returned. He also covertly asked for Oquarix’s boss to keep an eye on him. Oquarix was hiding things. He would be working on his datapad and then pretend he was doing nothing when Mender entered the room. 

Old paranoias came back to haunt Mender. Was Oquarix planning to leave? So soon? They still had time left on their agreement. Was he intending to reveal them to the universe? He ran through a thousand negative possibilities. He eliminated most, but those two kept popping up as consistent. Mender swore to himself he wouldn’t confront Oquarix about it. He knew from past experience it was better to let the enemy play out his plan and be aware of a trap than set it off too soon. 

At some point, his more logical side pointed out it might not be something bad. People did surprises for each other all the time, right? Maybe it was something like a present? Mender looked at their shared account to check, and sure enough there was a rather large withdrawl from it. He relaxed when he saw it, and the amount. It definitely wasn’t enough to leave him, but it was definitely enough for some kind of gift. 

And then Mender panicked. 

What the hell was he supposed to do if he got a gift? Say “thank you” obviously! But what else? What was the proper etiquette for this slag? He quickly searched on his datapad for appropriate responses to gift giving. He even went further and looked up old Iacon and otherwise old Cybertronian traditions, just in case. He discovered the answer was basically, “Buy one in return!” 

To get ahead of that tactic, Mender made a mistake and asked the nurse bots, “Excuse me, does anyone know what a good gift would be for Oquarix?” 

The amount of squealing was ungodly. “I knew it!” Codered screeched. “You’re gonna propose. I knew it. Invite us all to the ceremony!” 

“What?” Mender asked as he blinked at their reaction. 

Nightingale came over clapping. “What is going on over here? We have patients that need tending.” 

“He’s finally going to propose!” Codered answered for him.

“What? You’re not conjunx endura already?” Nightingale put her serovs on her hips. “Mender, come on, put in some initiative.” 

“It’s…” Mender gazed around at the group. He debated briefly setting them straight, but the Decepticon within him couldn’t resist. “Alright, you caught me. Just help me out. What kind of gift would Oquarix want? I’m completely stumped.” 

Nightingale rolled her optics. “Isn’t is obvious? A movie pass for the next year or two. He loves those things.” 

“A gift card? For a proposal?” Codered’s voice gained octaves as she said it. “Gale, I love you, but no. Absolutely not.” 

“You could get him some really old poetry books?” Scope proclaimed. “I actually heard tale there are some copies of the Lord Megatron’s poetry somewhere-.” 

“No! No, no,” Mender shook his hands in the air, “I don’t think Oquarix needs more books.” Also, dear Primus, never again. Oquarix had already discovered his past hobbies and was merciless in his mockery, and then turn around for grand support to “rediscover this passion.” 

“Um,” Kinetic raised her hand shyly in the back. “I have an idea?” 

~~~

Mender found what he was looking for after a whole two solar cycles of searching. The pawn shop he found the present in extorted him for the thing, but Mender handed it over after some angry haggling. He came home much later than he intended to, but the box in his hands all wrapped nicely would be well worth all the effort. He took one step in to find Oquarix standing near the table. 

He was blushing. Mender could tell, even in the dim lights of the house. There were tiny tea candles on the table, and in between a very old looking tablet. Mender put his box down and walked over to the table. 

“What is this?” he asked. 

Oquarix shifted, obviously nervous. “Mender, I have something to ask you.” 

Oh.

Oh? 

Oh! 

“Yes?” Mender stayed exactly where he was. He wasn’t going to move an inch. 

Oquarix moved over to him. “We’ve been together for over four hundred years and counting.” He picked up the tablet, clutching it to his chest. “But really, we’ve known each other for far longer. You once told me that there were two constants in your life: your hatred and me.” Oquarix locked optics with Mender. “I didn’t tell you then, but there were only two constants in my life, too. My love for Cybertron and you.” He handed over the tablet, rusty and chipped on the side. 

Mender gently took it in hand. He booted it up. “Oh Primus, it’s…” 

“The first day we met on Rodion, I read this. I spoke to the Senate with your words. Out of all the things that happened in the war, I don’t regret that moment. I can’t.” Oquarix pursed his lip plated together. “And in the end, you went into hell and got me out. You gave me the happiest centuries I’ve ever had.” Oquarex got down on one knee, bowing his helm.

“Once Megatron of Tarn, Leader of the Decepticons, now Mender of New Crystal City, will you be my conjunx endura?” 

Mender dropped down to his knees with the widest grin, putting the tablet down gently to the side. “Orion Pax then Optimus Prime, once Leader of the Autobots, now Oquarix of New Crystal City, of course I’ll accept you ridiculous mech!” 

Mender grabbed Oquarex’s helm in his hands. “I’ve been in love with you for centuries.” He kissed Oquarix, gently and then demanding. Before they knew it, they were on the floor with chest plates open, ready and willing. 

~~~

They were laughing on the floor in the afterglow. Mender had his arm around Oquarix as his systems cooled down. 

“I thought you said you were beyond lust and greed and...something?” Oquarix asked. 

“Guess not.” Mender started laughing again. “To think, I thought I was ahead of the game.”

“What?” Oquarix lifted his helm to shoot him a confused look. 

“I thought it was just a present.” Mender pointed over towards the door. “So I got you one, knowing you were getting me one. Yours wins, though.” 

Oquarix rolled his optics. “It’s not a competition.” He got up on shaky pedes. 

“Calibrate, then walk, we’ve been over this.”

“Shut up.” Oquarix groused as he stumbled his way over to his present. “What’s in it?”

“I did not suffer through that sales mech’s chipper conversation while he wrapped your present to simply tell you what it is. Open it and find out.” Mender sat up, a permanent smile now etched in his face. Oh, that felt good. 

He heard the sound of ripping aluminum, then a push of a button. “Oh,” he turned to give Mender a sad smile, “it’s perfect.” He lifted the globe out of the box, very carefully setting it on the floor. “Cybertron.”

“It’s not pre-war.” Mender said a bit apologetically. “But it’s as close as I could get. The new ones are all full of our battles and redrawn lines. This one is before Iacon was destroyed.”

“And it has the moons.” Oquarix gently touched the smaller spheres. “I miss it so much.” 

“I know.” Mender stood up and walked over to him. He sat down behind him and wrapped his arms around Oquarix’s waist. “There are just some things that we can’t bring back, though.” 

“Gorlam Prime is looking like it’s on the right track,” Oquarix said as he turned the dial at the bottom. “Maybe someday we can move there.” 

“Mmm, but not just yet.” Mender kissed his fiance’s cheek. “Let me have you all to myself a little while longer.” 

~~~

The public ceremony got all of the clinic and library staff in attendance. Mender and Oquarix stood face to face as the Knight of Ceremonies presided over their marriage. Mender squeezed his love’s servos in his own. Oquarix squeezed back and smiled. They were both shining from helm to pede, displaying hours of rigorous and expensive coats of wax. Mender and Oquarix chose nothing frilly, no metal flowers or ribbons. Instead, there was just the words and their vows.

Two sets in fact. 

The Knight of Ceremonies began his speech. “The bond between conjunx endura is forever. Neither shall one or the other be alone until death takes them.” 

Mender and Oquarix shared a knowing smirk. 

“And even then, the connection is powerful. It can cross time and space, entwining two sparks into an everlasting destiny. It should not be done without very careful consideration, the trials completed, and the two sparks ready to form as one.” 

He continued, “Now, do you Mender and Oquarix of New Crystal City have something to say?” 

In unison, they spoke, “Light of my spark, the star in my night sky, I do promise all of me. All of the burdens of my past and all of the riches in my future. I vow unto you, for all time and beyond.” 

On their comm link, they spoke quickly in unison. “I, Megatron of Tarn, swear my spark unto you.” 

“I, Optimus Prime of Cybertron, give my spark unto you.” 

Off the comm link, they said, “I, Mender of New Crystal City, give my spark unto you.” 

“I, Oquarix of New Crystal City, give my spark unto you.” 

The Knight of Ceremonies rose his arms. “And with that, they are bonded!” 

The cheers arose from the crowd. Mender bent down to meet his husband halfway and shared a kiss. 

~~~

At their reception, they danced together slowly. Everyone else left for home, but Mender wanted to use up their full reservation. Oquarix mumbled sleepily into his audial. “I love you.” 

“Hmm, I love you, too.” Mender nuzzled his cheek as he turned. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m quite happy, thank you.” Oquarix leaned back a little, not breaking their slow swaying to the music playing. “But now what?” 

“Well,” Mender shrugged, “I’ll be getting my promotion. Becoming a blacksmith wasn’t really a target for me, but Nightingale insists on it.” 

“Getting ideas?” Oquarix asked with a cheeky grin. 

“Are you?” Mender asked, optics going wide. “Are you sure? Oquarix, a child is-is, a child!” 

“Have you ever wanted one?” Oquarix asked. “I never even imagined it until I lived here. After two hundred years, I admit, the idea has grown on me.” 

Mender shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I’m not really a mech made for child rearing.”

“You weren’t meant to be a medic, either?” Oquarix kissed him on his lips. “But if it’s not what you want, it’s fine. We’ll still be together, no matter what.” 

~~~

When she opened her optics, she saw a mech with four arrays around his helm. She watched as they twitched in excitement. He smiled down at her. 

“Hello there,” he held out his servo, “I’m Mender, and I’m your father.” 

She returned his smile and took his offered servo. She tried to step forward but nearly fell. 

“Whoa now, careful. Calibrate first, then walk.” He laughed and said over his shoulder. “She’s going to take after you. I can tell.” 

“Oh, be quiet.” Another mech walked up to her. He bent down to get level with her. “Hello, I’m Oquarix. I’m your father, too.” 

She smiled at him. She calibrated and stood back up. She turned from one mech to the other. 

“Hello,” she blinked up at them, “I...I don’t know my name.” 

“That’s alright.” Mender put his servo on her helm. “Sometimes it takes a while to figure those things out. We can give you some ideas, if you like?” 

“We took a long time to think about them,” Oquarix said. “We read a lot of books, went to classes, and even watched over some other sparklings before we created you. We’ve got a pretty long list. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” she nodded. 

“Good.” Mender took one servo gently while Oquarix took the other. “Let’s go home, then.”