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“You must be wondering why I’ve suddenly shown up here,” Megatron said ominously as he stood before the Malto family.
As they all stared at him waiting for him to proceed, he shuffled nervously from pede to pede while keeping his servos clasped together tightly, close to his chassis, almost as if he was holding something very delicate.
They had been busy getting the movie night setup ready outside of the barn, when Megatron suddenly showed up out of nowhere, engine running loudly and perspiration pooling around his vents, as if he was worried about something.
Before he continued, Twitch raced forward with her arms outstretched towards Megatron. “Wait! Let us guess why you're here first!“ she said. Twitch must not have noticed the sense of importance that exuded from Megatron at that moment.
Megatron cleared his intake. ”Well, it's a matter of great importance. We-”
Thrash interrupted by joining Twitch in her eager jumping up and down. ”Wait, big bot! Don't start yet! Let us guess! Please! Things have gotten so boring ever since all the bad guys like GHOST aren’t a big deal anymore. We’ve only got ourselves to entertain each other, and no offense to everyone else, things have gotten from bad to worse.”
“Speak for yourself, Thrash,” Twitch said, “we’re all very entertained with how ridiculous your obsession with ‘Dance, Dance, Revolution!’ has been lately!”
“Yes, thoroughly entertained indeed,” Nightshade said.
“Yeah, it’s been so funny, dude!” Hashtag giggled. “When you face planted during the Rasputin dance last time, I thought I would combust I was laughing so much!”
Thrash huffed loudly, smile still present. “I had to get my arm realigned after that fall, thank you very much! Why is my pain so funny to you?”
Jawbreaker shook his helm. “It might have been the noise you made.”
“What noise?” Thrash looked away.
Hashtag clasped her servos over her mouth, sputtering with new laughter, no doubt remembering the noise now. “It was like hearing a fox fall on a bunch of pipes,” she laughed.
“Why is that funny?” Thrash complained, laughter causing his voice to wobble.
Megatron gaped at them, having a hard time believing this conversation took such a quick turn. At least it’s not as bad as it had been when Starscream would disrupt his meetings during the war causing the rest of his Seekers to cackle like turbofoxes for the rest of a meeting. He’s lucky to have only a group of sparklings having fun this time. But the topic needed to be addressed before things got out of servo.
Meanwhile, Mo stayed on topic despite the rest of the group quickly derailing. She hummed loudly, hand rubbing a large, imaginary mustache as she pondered outloud. ”Let me guess....You’re going to introduce a new member to our family? Oh, is it a dog!?”
Thrash gasped. ”Oh! A dog! I've never actually seen a dog up close! What kind is it? Is it one of those white fluffy ones? They’re so cute!“
”It is not a dog-“ Megatron said.
Robby rubbed his face on an equally imaginary mustache too. “Or maybe you’re here to teach a new cool move to use on any new enemies we find?”
”Cool! I want it to be a new move!“ Hashtag squealed. ”Please say it's a cool move! I've been dying to add more to extensive knowledge of cool moves to use in our next upcoming video! Isn't that right, Jawbreaker?“
Jawbreaker nodded, small smile ever present. “Mhm! We need a new one since the last time Bumblebee fumbled the kickflip over the big boulder. We ended up being banned from using it…again. Besides, we lost the footage after he fell on Hashtag's old drone.“
“Hey! I was tripped!” Bumblebee said in his defense.
“Tripped? By who?” Twitch hid her giggles behind her servo, already aware of the answer.
“The rock,” Bumblebee hesitated.
Among even more reminiscent laughter, Hashtag turned quickly to face the very boulder behind the infamous incident. “Mr. Boulder! Mr. Boulder! Is it true you tripped our teacher!?” she called.
Nightshade giggled and joined in on the festivities too, adding in a humorous tone, “Perhaps the boulder was put up to it and was sent to disrupt our favorite mentor's teachings.”
Thrash gasped dramatically. “Who would do such a thing?”
Nightshade smiled brightly. ”The trees, of course!“
Jawbreaker gasped loudly while the rest of them burst out laughing, who, upon realizing the joke, soon joined them as well. Mo and Robby giggled alongside them, while making fun of how Bumblebee's face looked when he accidently tripped, with comically large eyes and all. Such action startled even louder laughter from the kids, and soon the whole farm was filled with it. Bumblebee shrugged and started quietly laughing along with the rest of them, seemingly overtook with the kids silliness instead of any embarrassment; it's all in good fun after all.
Megatron reshuttered his optics a few times in confusion, clearly unsure how to continue after being interrupted again. The delicate “subject” in his servos wasn’t offering any help, and continued to giggle too.
He looked to Dorothy for help.
Dorothy quickly recovered from her own amusement and stepped forward. “Alright, everyone, that's enough. Let Megatron tell us what's going on,“ she said to all the kids, before turning to Megatron, whispering behind her hand, ”is it something serious?“
Megatron hesitated, glancing down at his servos. “Gravely,” he said, softly.
”Megatron, that is a gross exaggeration,“ a deep voice said from his servos.
“That sounds oddly familiar,” Alex pondered out loud.
”Was that Optimus?“ Bumblebee hesitantly asked, taking a step forward. At Megatron’s nod, Bumblebee looked around briefly. ”Where is he?“
”Here,” Megatron said.
Thrash looked around dramatically, even glancing behind Megatron. ”Uh no? I can't see him anywhere! Where is this big bot supposed to be at then? Is he on your phone?”
Twitch shrugged. ”Yeah, pretty sure it would be hard to miss a 30 foot mech wearing bright colors like the Optimus Prime!“
”Yeah! His paint job practically screams attention,“ Hashtag added. Jawbreaker nodded sagely in agreement. Nightshade had been staring at Megatron's servos for some time now, having already found the source of Megatron's worry.
Megatron cleared his intake roughly. ”Yes, about that...“ he said, before stopping next to their set out table, removing the movie projector placed on top, and gently placing it on the ground beside it. He squatted slowly and carefully placed his servos down on top the table, delicately spreading them to release the matter at hand.
Curious as to what would cause Megatron to have such behavior, everyone crowded around the table to get a better look.
Standing there, with servos on hips, was a miniature version of Optimus Prime, smiling brightly as if he wasn't practically a thirdith of his usual size. Even with the added height the table provided, he was still shorter than Mo, the shortest of the entire group.
Bumblebee gasped. ”Optimus!?“
”Hello, Bumblebee,“ Optimus said. ”Are you well?“
”Am I well? Are you?” Bumblebee practically screeched. He stepped closer, but was surprised when Megatron hunched closer to Optimus, bringing a servo to hover close by, stopping anything to get closer besides a curious look thrown Optimus' way. He couldn’t take the chance with Optimus in such a manner.
Optimus sighed, in a familiarly annoyed yet affectionate way. “As you can probably tell, Megatron has been a tad bit too protective of my movements.”
“Is it ‘cause you’re teeny tiny?” Thrash asked, raising one of his servos.
“Correctly guessed!”
Thrash did a little victory dance in getting that guess correctly.
Alex stepped forward, stopping before Megatron, whose red optics glared down at him with caution. “If I may ask, how did this happen exactly?” Alex asked.
Megatron glanced at Dorothy, who gave him a reassuring smile, before looking down at Optimus. “It was a few cycles ago. Optimus and I were evaluating the remnants of the GHOST headquarters when we were requested by Autobot Wheeljack for a demonstration of his latest invention.”
“Yes, and I was the first to arrive…”
...
A few cycles ago…
Wheeljacks’ laboratory was tucked away in the south corridor of the abandoned GHOST headquarters, well past the security sentry they had implemented since day one. Despite a few months having passed since they left, the entire building had held up pretty well, with minimal wear and tear showing. Though the lab didn’t fare quite as well.
When the front door to the lab slid open, one of the lights flickered overhead, barely holding its brightness, harshly casting dark shadows over the room. The main lobby was used for mostly storage where tables, file cabinets, and boxes were kept by the humans that used it previously, taking over the majority of the room. And as usual, it was the same mess as Optimus had last seen it, with old failed inventions piled on top of any available surface.
Optimus stepped around a pile of wires left near the door. “Wheeljack?” he called.
Upon receiving no response, he made his way further inside.
After dodging some overhanging tubes and scattered datapads on the floor that had fallen from their towering stack on a random table, Optimus stopped in the second entrance way, leading to the main lab, to find Wheeljack in the wider, bright room. It had a high vault ceiling and white plain walls, previously used as a training room, only the previous features, like amalgamated simulations for said training, were disabled permanently so Wheeljack could use the room for his inventions without any unnecessary interruptions like fighting for his life because the system messed up and started a practice run accidently. The last thing they all wanted was something to go awry during somelike like a midtronic transfusion on his sonic pulsator knife. It would not end well, as Optimus had been told several times before.
The room was definitely built to last, much like the rest of the structure. With thick walls strong enough to withstand anything thrown against it, the fact of which Wheeljack made sure to double check by throwing everything he could think about at it, causing only scrapes on the pristine surface.
Assessing the room, past all the large contraptions and tarps laying around, he finally found Wheeljack, underneath a table off to the side fiddling with some unattached circuits to device, mumbling a string of curses when he was shocked by one of them.
“Wheeljack, I received your comm about your invention,” Optimus said.
”Hm?” Wheeljack looked at him upside down. He stared at him blankly, before he brightened. “Ah! I forgot!” Wheeljack said, scrambling to stand. He nearly knocked over the table with his movements, but it quickly settled with a clunk.
Wheeljack puttered around as he collected a few tools, all while explaining quickly why he called Optimus there; after a moment of incoherent sentences, Optimus held out his servo to request Wheeljack to stop.
“Whoops, sorry! I‘m talking too fast again, aren’t I?” Wheeljack said. “You know how we’re still dealing with the remnants of the GHOST’s aftermath in Witwicky, and well, everywhere around us?”
“I am aware.”
“Right, so! I remember you once complaining about this and that,” Wheeljack rambled, before stopping in place, tools clinked attached to his belt against him at the sudden stop,” actually…maybe it was some other bot that had a similar color scheme…Ah, well, anyway! Now I have the perfect solution!”
“For?”
“Catching those pesky arachnamechs still roaming around!”
“Oh yes, now I remember you mentioning that. What is the solution?”
“Come look!” Wheeljack gestured towards a large tarp close to the middle of the room. “I was going to save this to show Megatron too, but since the old warlord is not here yet, and I’m too excited to wait…” He pulled the tarp off the invention in a flourish, relishing in its reveal. There stood a large contraption just a little short of Optimus’ tall stature. It was gray and boxy, with some red and orange wires along the sides, all leading to a large parabolic antenna on top.
“What does it do?” Optimus asked.
“It’s really simple. Here, I’ll show you!” Wheeljack said, pushing Optimus closer to one side of the machine until he faced the main antenna’s dish. Wheeljack then went to the machine, flipping some dials, clicking a few buttons, calibrating the machine for its purpose.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Optimus said.
“Perfectly safe!” Wheeljack said, tying on the machine’s keypad. “All previous trials collate into a 66.6% success rating.”
“That’s good?” Optimus hesitated.
“That’s above average for a prototype!” Wheeljack said. He pointed a pair of smaller scanners towards Optimus. “Alright, here we go. Hold onto your plating!”
With a large lever pulled, beams of blue light emanated out of the combined force of the scanners onto Optimus. A cool warmth, an odd paradoxal sensation, enveloped him. Soon, everything around him grew larger, or rather. The machine now stood over a story taller than him, a giant skyscraper from it’s previous appearance.
Wheeljack peered down at him beaming with surprise and delight at the success of his invention. “Ha ha! It works!” he laughed.
“Amazing work! Now, I can reach the smallest cracks where any of those arachnamechs are hiding!” Optimus remarked.
“Thank you! I try, I try,” Wheeljack gloated.
“Interesting, I look exactly the same, aside from being very tiny!” Optimus said, peering down at himself. “Thank you for demonstrating your work…Oh, judging by the time, Megatron will have to visit at another time, our next meeting will be beginning soon. He must have been stopped by someone.”
“Okie dokie! I’d be happy to show it again at any time,” Wheeljack said, smiling brightly.
“Thank you again,” Optimus said. “Time for me to get back to my duties. You may change me back now, Wheeljack.”
Wheeljack stood silently for a long moment, looking at the controls of the machine with a smile plastered on his face, looking quite pained about something.
“Wheeljack?”
“Mhm?”
“How are you changing me back?”
“Yeah…about that,” Wheeljack shrugged, “I kind of, sort of, didn’t get that far.”
Optimus chuckled dryly. “W-why not use the machine again?”
Wheeljack brightened for a split second before slumping down against the machine. “No, you’d only get smaller!”
“...There’s no reverse option?”
Wheeljack hummed for a long moment, then huffed quietly. “No,” he said resolutely. “That was not part of the schematics unfortunately.”
“Oh, dear,” Optimus stared down at his servos. “I suppose this isn’t so bad, I am not in any pain. Though I do have several meetings to attend to later. I am unsure how my fellow people will respond once they see me like this…”
“Well, at least you look cute being that small?” Wheeljack offered.
…
Present cycle…
“It took all the strength within my frame to not throttle that mad scientist once I found out,” Megatron said gravely.
“Not my finest work, I will admit,” someone behind the group said. Everyone turned to find Wheeljack himself having joined on the outskirts of the group sometime during Optimus’ retelling.
“Wheeljack,” Optimus greeted, “do you have any news on our situation?” Megatron held up his arm when Optimus took a step closer to the edge of the table, which Optimus peered over, much like a small animal would, big round optics and all.
“Working on it! Ever since the first couple times didn’t work out, I had to switch gears for my next attempt,” Wheeljack said, “which leads me here. I’m here to gain the assistance of Nightshade, if you’d like to help me?”
“I would love to offer any help needed from me,” Nightshade said.
“How long do you estimate it will take for a reversal?” Optimus said.
“Eh, after we figure out why the other machines didn’t work, we can then focus on the solution. And then we’d be taking in account of time of the construction, the configuration, the energy, and then we would have to some trials first-”
Megatron turned to his helm slightly, gaze still on Optimus, carefully watching him. “Save the excuses. This all could be easily solved sooner rather than later. We all know this. So, have you contacted him yet?” he demanded.
Wheeljack looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, well, you see the last time we spoke, he sort of threw half of his tools at me…after I left a giant scorch mark in his medibay, so I don’t really think I should-”
Megatron whipped his helm to him, glaring intensely. “Do you have turbofoxes in your finials? You will contact him immediately!” Optimus cleared his intake and gave him a soft, yet pointed look, prompting Megatron to look at him briefly before he met Wheeljack’s gaze again and added, in a disgruntled voice, “Please.”
Wheeljack hummed in consideration for a comically long time, until he threw up his servos. “Alright! Since you asked so nicely,” he said, turning away from the group, pulling out a device that resembled a blue comm device, similarly thick like a man-made brick. He pulled out the long antennae and typed in a frequency.
Mo shuffled a little closer in the following silence, startling it with her hesitate voice. “Hey, Optimus…Can I ask you a question?” Mo asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you want to join us for our movie night?” she said.
“Yeah, you should totally join!” Thrash said, perking up quickly, having metaphorically withered away from listening to the grown ups talk. “We're watching a movie about people getting shrunk into teeny tiny people!“
”Huh. Oddly fitting,“ Hashtag pointed out quietly.
“I concur, tonight’s movie will be quite fascinating!“ Nightshade said, then added with a bright gleam in their optic, as if they were already calculating a solution. ”And who knows, it may offer us great insight into your predicament!”
”Are you sure there's enough room for both of us?” Optimus joked, setting tiny servos on his tiny waist.
“Hm, I don't know. We might have enough room to squeeze you in,” Thrash chuckled.
”Yeah, do we even have space for the two of you? You both take up so much room,” Robby exaggerated.
“There might be no space at all!” Hashtag said with obvious amusement.
”What is everyone talking about?“ Jawbreaker said. ”With Optimus being so small, we only need to worry about the area that Megatron would take up.“
”True! To make up for that, I can sit on Megatron, that way we may take up even less space.“ Optimus agreed. He turned to Megatron. ”Right?“
Megatron hesitated.
”Plus,“ Thrash said, elongating the last syllable while doing a little, excited dance, ”if you’re not already fully on board with the movie, we're going to have a few games afterwards! And, our long awaited dance rematch, aka, Dance Competition 2: Boogaloo!“
”Dance competition is still up for debate,“ Bumblebee clarified.
”You're just a sore loser from last time!“ Hashtag pointed out.
”I had that win! If only my knee didn't stiffen up, causing me to trip,“ Bumblebee said while looking in the distance with a forlorn, yet exaggerated, sad look, with a clenched servo.
”Keep telling yourself that,“ Mo said.
”I will,“ Bumblebee said, giving a little nod before breaking out into a bright smile. ”I smell a redemption arc!“
”We'll see about that, Mr. Slippery Pedes!“ Thrash yelled.
Jawbreaker placed a servo onto Bumblebee's arm. ”Despite your clumsiness, I still believe in your dancing abilities.“
“Thank you, Jawbreaker,” Bumblebee deadpanned.
“Will you join us? Sounds like a lot of fun right?“ Mo asked, turning back to the older pair.
”It'll totally be fun! We're only joking. There is plenty of room for the both of you,“ Robby added. ”Right, Mom?”
Dorothy nodded. “There will always be room for you. Both of you.”
Optimus' “That’s very kind of you-” and Megatron's “No-” interrupted each other, prompting them to face one another. Optimus motioned for Megatron to lean closer so they could speak without giving anything away to the rest of the group. He comically scrunched up to be on Optimus’ optic level.
“Optimus, you, I mean, that is to say, we cannot stay. We have far too much business to attend to that requires our attention,” Megatron said.
“And what business is that?” Optimus said.
Megatron blinked. “Getting you back to your usual height.”
“That cannot happen yet, you know this. All we can do is wait for Wheeljack to configure something to reverse the effects or to get in contact with someone that can help. Until then, we might as well have fun while we can!” Optimus smiled.
“But-” Megatron whispered.
Optimus titled his helm, his smile growing soft. “It will be fun.”
“Optimus,” Megatron implored quietly.
“It will be fine, sweetspark,” Optimus said, placing a miniature servo on Megatron’s large one. “I know I will be alright as long as you are by my side.”
Megatron vented. “If you insist.”
“Besides!“ Optimus loudly said. ”We need to let loose more often! This is a perfect excuse for me to get back into dancing,” he said while doing a small robotic dance move. He purposefully made it look horribly cheesy, stiff and overly exaggerated, easily pulling a fond look from Megatron.
The group of Terrans all erupted with intrigue, with Thrash's voice coming out louder. “What?! You’re a dancer too?“ he asked incredulously.
”In my youth!“ Optimus smiled. He did a little twirl, hitting a few steps while maintaining perfect time to an imaginary song.
”Ha! More competition!“ Thrash yelled. ”I will not be defeated!“
“He is the number one dancer this side of Witwicky!” Twitch praised.
Hashtag brought out their shared camera, a large custom made recorder, and pointed it to Optimus, while twirling her servo around. “Show the audience some more moves, Optimus! The world is dying to know that the leader of the Autobots does a little dancey dance in his spare time!”
Optimus did as instructed, moving with flourish and grace, turning the movements into silly nonsensical wobbling to get all the kids laughing. All the moves from Optimus of course had Megatron on high alert, and throughout the short dance session, he watched Optimus carefully, keeping his servo on one end of the table when Optimus danced too close to it. Dorothy soothed Megatron's worried state by placing a reassuring hand on his. Many would not be able to do so, Dorothy was obviously an exception to Megatron's own reservations in regards to someone getting too close to him, or Optimus. She had long ago proved herself to him. Her presence was a brief calming salve to his worried state. Megatron couldn’t remember the last time he had been so careful, and it was starting to weigh on him.
Bumblebee had a mix of emotions on his face plate, joy, horror, and confusion, all culminating from watching their current leader dance in front of his very own optics. Mo stepped closer, placing her hands on the table, peering closer in amusement at how different it was to see a usually colossal sized bot that small and close to her own stature, let alone having such fantastic dance moves. Megatron barely paid her any attention, not as worried now with Dorothy's support given to him.
Twitch turned to the camera, pointing at the scene behind her, and said, ”Yo check out Optimus Prime! Mini Prime coming in clutch with the choreography!“
“You may call me, Party Prime!” Optimus giggled.
Thrash took hold of the camera and pointed it at him. Hashtag tried to pull it away from him in turn, but Thrash held it tightly. ”I will remain the crowned winner of the dance competition!” Thrash said, squishing his face against the camera.
“Dude, you're gonna break it,” Hashtag complained, trying to move the camera away from Thrash’s reach.
“Nuh uh!” Thrash said, tugging the camera.
“Yuh uh!” Hashtag said, tugging the camera back with equal force.
“Did you get my good side?” Twitch pushed Thrash away, switching the conversation to the most important thing at the moment.
Thrash released the camera. Hashtag stumbled away from the misdirected force, and quickly straightened up, cradling the camera away from the commotion.
Thrash pouted. “What good side?” he grumbled.
“Rude! Mom! Thrash is being mean to me!” Twitch cried.
“Nuh uh!” Thrash said.
“She literally watched you do that!“ she pointed out.
”Nuh! Uh!“
”Why are you being weird tonight?“ Jawbreaker said, interrupting their very mature conversation.
”Yes, it is concerning,“ Nightshade said.
Thrash shrugged. “Felt like being meanie. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Twitch. I apologize. Sometimes the joke overrides the rest of the processor.“
Twitch nodded sagely. ”I understand completely. I do, however, request to say one bad thing to you as well to make up for the grievance placed upon me,“ she said in mock seriousness.
Thrash gave his own sagely nod in understanding. “Yes, I agree, dear sister. I must, in turn, suffer equally. Your complaint?”
”You're too silver.“
Thrash fell to his knees and faked tearing at his paint job with an exaggerated cry. “No! Not my color! That is the thing that I’m the most sensitive about!“
Twitch collapsed onto the ground too, laughing too much, and Thrash followed soon after, and any previous animosity slipped out just as quickly as it had shown up, what little there was to begin with.
Dorothy shook her head at the scene before her. “Okay everyone, let's try to be nice to one another and not be purposefully mean. It’s all well and good to joke, but don't push it too far away that you can’t come back from your words.“
”'Kay!“ All the kids collectively said.
“WHAT?!” A grouchy voice yelled over the group's ‘intervention.’ The device in Wheeljack's servo crackled again with the voice sounding very annoyed. ”You idiot, Wheeljack!”
“Alright kids, why don’t we get the snacks prepared?” Alex said.
“What? Why? It’s just now getting interesting!” Thrash complained.
Twitch suddenly started running to their basement. “Last one there is a rusted lug nut!”
“Hey! No fair!” Thrash called as he raced behind her, along with the rest of the Terrans, Mo, and Robby, following with equal fervor, and Dorothy and Alex trailing behind with a sedated pace. All the while, leaving the older bots alone for the time being.
“Say that again,” Megatron demanded to the comm device.
“Argh, I said-” the grouchy voice repeated. “I can’t get away right at the moment.”
“And why not?”
“You don’t honestly expect me to just get up and leave over the slightest issue you experience? I have patients here too,” the voice gruffed out.
“And Optimus is a slight issue to you?” Megatron harshly said.
“That is not what I meant and you know that.”
“How could you possibly know what I mean, medic?” Megatron hissed.
There was a poignant silence etching out between the three now before Wheeljack checked the comm, noticing it was still receiving, then hesitantly said, “Ratchet? You there, buddy?”
There was a shuffling on the other side of the comm device. Optimus leaned closer. “Old friend, are you still there?”
Ratchet vented loudly, obviously annoyed if the rattle in his vents were anything to go by. “Of course I am! I’m just waiting on a certain someone’s apology before I uproot my business so quickly.”
“I had not perceived you so sensitive in need of an apology from someone such as I,“ Megatron sneered.
”Make no mistake, I'm not bothered by fancy words, certainly not from the likes of you, but you were the one that called me in the middle of something. I suspect you’d do just about anything for me to help you out. So...?” Ratchet was absolutely milking it and the humor in his voice definitely showed that.
Megatron ground his dentae together before letting out a long vent. “I apologize. I have been…quite stressed on account of recent dilemmas.”
Ratchet hummed in his acceptance. “I get that, and I accept your apology, despite how it pains me to say so.“
Megatron rolled his optics at that. “Are you on your way or not, medic?“
”Look, I’m arms deep in a patient at the moment, so the soonest I can head your way is in a few groons, give or take.”
“Oh! Well, take your time. Inform them that I hope their recovery is swift,” Optimus said. “Do not worry terribly. I am perfectly fine as I am.”
“Optimus, you are tiny enough that you can sit comfortably in my servo!” Megatron protested.
“And I feel fine!” Optimus smiled at him, and Megatron took a long vent to settle his aching processor but did not comment again.
“I will get there as soon as I can,” Ratchet said.
“Safe travels, old friend,” Optimus said.
“Mhm. Oh, and Wheeljack, try not to mess up anything before I get there, you hear me?“
“You got it, Ratchet!”
Wheeljack whispered to Optimus and Megatron. “I thought he would be more upset with me-”
“-I am, and prepare to dodge another wrench because it will be as soon as I lay my optics on your sorry aft. You hear me, Wheeljack?”
“Miss you too, Ratchet! Okay, talk to you later! Bye!“ Wheeljack quickly said before turning off the long range comm device. He turned sheepishly to the pair. ”Well, I for one, am excited to see Ratchet again after so many years! But just in case he finds me alone and I have no witnesses to my murder, I am entrusting you to find my lab a new owner in my stead.“
”Gladly,“ Megatron murmured to himself.
Optimus reassured him that Ratchet did not mean harm.
“Hm, pretty sure he means harm considering the last time he spoke like that would suggest. In fact, that was the last time I saw my dear Engraver Imbued Rod: Xelopa 6000.” Wheeljack wiped away an imaginary tear.
“Considering what it did to Ratchet's last paint job, I am surprised he didn’t tear you apart,“ Optimus joked.
Wheeljack’s optics widened. ”Oh Primus, you’re so correct...I have to make preparations.“ Wheeljack transformed and sped away, leaving the pair in his dust.
Megatron looked down at Optimus, causing him to giggle at his perplexed face. ”Do not worry, sweetspark, I was only messing with him,“ Optimus said, “Ratchet means well. He would never kill a friend. Or maim…more than he could personally fix afterwards, that is.”
Megatron would agree, but given the doctor's previous experience as the “Hatchet” well known even within the Decepticons ranks, he could see where the fear was derived from. “If you say so, beloved,” he conceded.
…
The Terrans did their best in offering any help in Optimus’ situation over the next few cycles waiting for Ratchet, or for Wheeljack and Nightshade to come up with a reversal, yet oddly, each time they came up with a new device that they were all sure would work next, it still wasn’t enough. It seemed like even their combined forces were still not enough. So they were forced to wait, biding time with the Maltos in secret. They spent most of their time playing games rather than training, which was a delightful twist of the usual. Bumblebee didn’t protest at all, knowing better than to go against the obvious wishes of everyone including Optimus.
Everyone would all be more concerned if Optimus wasn’t clearly enjoying every moment he was tiny, and in turn, every moment that Megatron carefully doted on him.
If anyone was having a terrible time, it was Megatron. His field practically stunk with worry and stress as he followed Optimus like a comically large shadow at every step, showering him with devotion without question.
Optimus reveled in it while he could.
Ratchet could not have arrived soon enough, but finally, an ambulance’s siren echoed around the hills, loudly screeching into the Malto's driveway until it came to a stop in front of the barn’s door.
All the Terrans, sans Nightshade, wandered out to check what the commotion was.
“Kids! Is someone injured?!” Dorothy yelled, storming out the house. Both Mo and Robby followed after her, Alex stayed close to the door in case he needed to call for more help.
“Only Megatron’s pride,” a grouchy voice responded.
“Woah, did that ambulance just talk?” Robby asked.
“Weird!” Thrash said.
“Says the talking motorcycle,” the ambulance said. Suddenly it transformed into a tall red and white transformer with accenting red stripes. He had a tall chevron on his helm, looking similar to a tall v shape. He was tall, not as tall as Optimus or Megatron, but definitely taller than the rest of the kids. He held the same ‘air’ about him that Megatron did though. He settled with his servos resting on his belt, jostling the white boxes attached to it.
“Ratchet!” Dorothy greeted. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”
“I understand,” Ratchet shrugged. “There are plenty of transformers with this paint job. It’s easy to get us all confused.”
Robby chuckled. “That’s a good joke.”
“It’s not a joke. There really are a lot of us that have the same color scheme, namely all being medics like myself,” Ratchet clarified.
“Huh,” Thrash hummed. “You’re a pretty serious bot? Don’t you ever let loose, like ever?”
“Why should I?”
“Eh, because those optic under lines are looking a little rough there buddy,” Thrash giggled.
“Look, I didn’t come here to be ridiculed. Where’s Optimus?” Ratchet said. “I need to get this over with already. I can't stay long. If I’m not back home around my regularly scheduled time, my conjunx will start slashing his way through the state looking for me, and I don’t feel like paying for property damages. The job doesn’t pay enough.”
“What!” Bumblebee yelped. “You’re conjunxed? That’s news to us. Since when? Do I know them?”
Ratchet pinched his nose ridge. “Yes, I have been for twenty years now. And you know him.”
“Twenty!” Bumblebee gasped, then scrunched his face up with distaste. “Wait, is it the mech I think it is?”
“We’re not going to get into this again.” Ratchet vented.
“What’s your conjunx like?” Mo asked softly.
Ratchet looked down at her, optics lighting up as he processed the correct description. “Intense.”
“That’s one word for it,” Bumblebee said.
“Still not over that time Drift nearly nicked you during the war?” Ratchet asked.
“Nicked me? He nearly decapitated me!” Bumblebee yelled.
“And you turned out fine.”
“No thanks to you,” Bumblebee grumbled. “Clearly you were too busy swooning over every cool looking mech that came around. And a Decepticon at that!”
“Do yourself a favor and keep your hate to yourself. It’s unflattering,” Ratchet said.
“Wait, what?” Thrash interrupted. “You hate someone?”
“Yeah, did we miss something?” Twitch said. “I never would have thought you would ever hate or even dislike someone?”
Robby nodded. “Definitely hard to believe.”
Mo shrugged. “I guess anyone could if pushed hard enough, right?”
Bumblebee fumbled with what to say next, stammering around the words. “I, well, no. I don’t hate anyone. Hate is a strong word. I could never hate someone, truly. Not even Megatron. Besides, we’re just messing around. Come on, Ratchet. You know, I don’t mean anything by it, really. Drift, he uh…he’s alright. Even if he’s a former Decepticon.”
“Yeah? All in good fun, sure.” Ratchet rolled his arms, stretching them out to get some kinks out, then gave a wry smile. “And what about you then? How are you with — what was his name again? Something Break-”
“Breakdown?” Twitch guessed.
“That’s it!” Ratchet chuckled.
Bumblebee’s face erupted in deep blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Sure, and you obviously won’t care if I tell him what you told me before-”
Bumblebee smiled widely. “You do that, and you will never leave here online, you old bucket of bolts!”
Ratchet laughed, body curving into itself from the sheer force of it. “Ah, kid, it’s good to see you again.”
“Come back around more often then,” Bumblebee offered. “You may be retired technically but you don’t act like it with how busy you keep yourself.”
“You’re always welcome here, Ratchet,” Dorothy added. “Join us for some games. Those are always fun.”
“As long as you don’t mind losing to me in a dance competition!” Thrash exclaimed. “I might have lost to The Party Prime, but I will recover my title. For this, I am sure.”
The group was now laughing at Thrash’s dramatic act, who was equally laughing along with them.
“Maybe one day,” Ratchet said with a small smile that quickly disappeared, face hardening into a more serious expression. “I hate to ruin a good reunion, and new beginnings, but it’s time to get back to business. Where's the supposed tiny bot at?”
…
Megatron stepped out of the barn, Optimus carefully held in his servo. They had busy listening to Nightshade and Wheeljack’s update on the invention down in the Terran’s base, only to come out and find Ratchet surrounded by the kids all grilling him more questions on his conjunx. They were no doubt delaying him greatly.
“Ratchet!” Optimus greeted.
Ratchet whistled upon seeing Optimus’ small stature, clearly amused by this predicament that his old friend has found himself in. “Look at you! I’ve got to say, Optimus, you’re looking a bit small these days,” he chuckled.
“Really?” Optimus twirled around. “I think pretty good like this.”
“Ratchet, old buddy, old pal ‘o mine! It’s good to see ya!” Wheeljack said, sliding in to join the group. “I hate to say it but I think your trip was wasted. This new device,” he held up a long dark blue blaster with a green rotating end blade for everyone to see, “will definitely work this time. We made sure to configure it to allow any misaligned connections that the others were having trouble with-”
“Save us the long spiel and get on with it then,” Ratchet said.
Wheeljack did just that, pointing the blaster towards Optimus who stood on the ground now, making sure to keep it pointed only towards Optimus. Megatron was standing just shy of the projection area. “Everyone stand back and close your optics,” he said. He pulled the trigger, causing a bright blue and green light to shoot out of the gun, blasting Optimus directly.
After the huge cloud of smoke cleared, Wheeljack’s excited face erupted in anger upon seeing no change from Optimus’ form. “What in the slag! I don’t understand why this isn’t working. Everything should be calibrated perhaps, ah I don’t know if…hm.”
“Very peculiar,” Nightshade said, looking down at Optimus with a raised optic ridge.
“May I try now?” Ratchet asked.
“Knock yourself out for all I care.” Wheeljack dropped the useless blaster.
Ratchet kneeled down to get a better look at Optimus, narrowing his optics. He typed onto his arm datapad, bringing up a holographic schematic along with Optimus’ previous medical records. Then, pointing his arm to Optimus, he scanned him, lighting him up with a rich, orange light. It scanned every inch of him, reaching through into his inner cables, revealing everything to him with close insight. Almost too quickly, Ratchet switched it off with a satisfactory smile. “Just as I thought.”
“Oh?” Optimus looked away. “Have you reached a verdict?”
“Ya know, if you wanted to be looked after like this, you could have just said so, there’s no need to pull this level of stunt to do that,” Ratchet said.
“Whatever do you mean, old friend?” Optimus asked innocently.
Ratchet shook his helm. “Turn around.”
Optimus did just so and held still for Ratchet’s next move.
Ratchet reached to press against the back of Optimus' neck. Megatron flinched and reached for the medic, before he could, Ratchet held up his other servo, and said, “Settle your core. I’m not gonna hurt him.”
“But-”
Ratchet finalized his reach and slapped the back of Optimus’ neck, erupting a startled yelp out of him. Optimus’ form quickly grew in size, gears and cables switching loudly, until he stood at his usual size.
“There,” Ratchet concluded.
Everyone stood there gaping at him for a long moment.
“Well don’t hurt yourselves in scrambling in thanking me,” Ratchet gruffed out, standing back up.
At that, everyone all clattered around Optimus, ecstatic on his problem being solved.
“Wait, how did you know that work?” Wheeljack complained. “We tried everything!”
“Hm, not everything. Right, Optimus?” Ratchet said.
“It is surprising how quick you figured me out.”
“You wanna confess or you want me to do your dirty work?” Ratchet said, fixing Optimus with a stern look. Optimus dipped his helm to hide his sheepish smile, saying nothing. Ratchet vented at his reaction, prompting him to explain instead. “You see, Wheeljack, your device works.”
“Really? But just now it didn’t-”
“According to my scan readings,” Ratchet said, showing Wheeljack the medical chart on his datapad, “judging from a couple spikes in his EMF here and here, it suggests he was fixed before this.”
Gasps erupted from the crowd at this admission. Now everyone was scrambling in trying to piece together the mystery; only one question stood out to everyone: why?
Ratchet pressed further despite the confusion around him. “I had enough time to think on my way here. I knew you might resort to this one day or another. But, next time, don’t let me come all this way for nothing.”
“Maybe we wanted to see you again?” Optimus offered.
Ratchet scoffed lightly. “Sure, go out of your way to tell a big lie only to get this old frame to grace your presence once in a millennium, see if I care.”
“Thank you nonetheless, old friend,” Optimus said sincerely.
“Next time I won’t be so generous in my forgiveness.” Ratchet clasped Optimus’ shoulder, turning the gesture into a hug.
“What about me, Ratchet?” Wheeljack said, shuffled nervously.
“Ah, I’m too tired to throw anything at you. Next time watch your back.”
“Haha, you’re such a kidder. Thanks again Nightshade! I never doubted us!” Wheeljack said to Nightshade, throwing a salute their way. “Anyway, I’ll catch y’all later!” He quickly transformed, speeding away before Ratchet changed his mind. And for good reason, judging from the sharp glimmer in Ratchet’s optic as he watched him leave.
Ratchet transformed too, blinking his lights a couple times before he revved his engine and started to pull away, calling out to them as he left, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a conjunx to get back to. Oh, and Optimus, don’t forget about yours too.”
Thrash followed Ratchet as he left, speeding along as he asked more about this conjunx, apparently still stuck on that information. “Speaking of, what else is this Drift guy like? Does he have any cool moves he can show up? He has to have some! He has a cool name, which means he has to have cool moves hidden somewhere under his chassis, right? Oh, wait, what about-”
Optimus waved Ratchet goodbye, chuckling at Thrash’s young energy. He turned back to Megatron, only to find that he was no longer with the group.
Finding only pede marks, leading away to the open field on the other side of the farm, he followed them with a heavy spark. Now it was time to confront the mess he had made.
It wasn’t long before he spotted Megatron sitting in the middle of the field, all little cows having made ample room for him, hiding away in the corners of the pasture. Megatron looked lost, a foreign look on his face plate.
The sunset was beautiful on the horizon before them, but nothing could compare to how lovely Megatron looked, golden light highlighting his red optics into brilliant glimmers.
Optimus stopped before him, waiting for Megatron to acknowledge him.
“Optimus, why did you lie to us?” Megatron whispered, then turned to him, optics wet. “To me?”
Optimus sat next to him. Taking his servo hesitantly, he gave him a reassuring smile. With a moment stretching over a bit too long, long enough Optimus feared the worse, but before opening his mouth, Megatron slightly squeezed his servo in response. Optimus let out a vent he didn’t know he was holding. Such a gesture was a good sign despite it all, Optimus knew better than to assume that would solve anything though.
“What can I say besides that I am sorry to have caused you such worry?” Optimus started.
“What else!?” Megatron incredulously asked. “Do not play with me. Never with me, Optimus. I cannot take your lies above the avalanche of misinformation my entire life has endured. Tell me the truth.”
Optimus’s spark ached for his sparkmate; he was right. Megatron deserved the truth. The whole truth.
“...I like you taking care of me,” Optimus said softly.
Megatron furrowed his optical ridges. “What?
The whole, embarrassing truth. “I am so used to being the one that takes care of everyone, and I love doing that, but sometimes…it is a lot to handle. And when this instance happened, I was reminded how wonderful it is to let everyone go into someone else’s servos for a change.”
Megatron stammered. “You should tell me your intentions for such an event as this! Because, this, was a low instance, it was not enjoyable for me!
“Oh?” Optimus frowned deeply. “I did not consider that it would be so.”
Megatron scoffed. “I thought you would stay like that forever!” He stayed quiet for a long moment, fiddling with Optimus’ digits in the time. His optics had dried up by now, but his gaze still held that forlorn look on the edges of his optics, alerting Optimus there was much more to this. “I didn’t…I didn’t know what to do. I thought I would lose you.” Megatron’s shoulders slumped, old age showing more than ever before.
“Oh, my dear. I did not mean to do so out of malice. In truth, the first time Wheeljack tried to change me back, it did not actually work, that I did not lie about. And well, after I saw how sweet you were towards me while you thought I was stuck like this, I couldn’t help but continue the charade just a little longer, so I changed back to being small and continued to do so until Ratchet, having known better, forced the change,” Optimus said.
Megatron hummed. “And you are okay now then? Nothing out of place?”
“I am perfectly fine.”
“Good.” Megatron glanced behind them, satisfied to find know one else around. “As long as you were not in any pain while ‘stuck’ like that, I will say, and if you tell this to anyone I will deny it fervently…you were very cute being that small.”
“Aw! You dote on me so wonderfully.” Optimus held Megatron’s face gently, pulling him close to kiss his nose. “I hope you can forgive me?”
“Of course I can,” Megatron said, holding Optimus’ wrists.
“Oh my sweetspark-”
“If,” Megatron continued, fixing him with a fond, exasperated look, “you promise to not do something like that deliberately again…unless we have previously discussed it.”
“Of course!”
“Good. Then yes, I accept your apology. It is the least I can do after everything you have done for me too.”
Optimus hummed. “True, but do not let that disallow you to exclaim whether or not I have wronged you in any way. I do not want to cause such distress again even if it is not my intention.”
“Perhaps not as much as I had claimed. I did enjoy caring for you,” Megatron said. He pulled them close, kissing Optimus’ derma lightly, before resting their foreheads together. “While I did enjoy it, I much prefer your normal height.”
“Oh?” Optimus’ optics closed half-way. “And why is that?”
Megatron ducked his helm against his shoulder, hiding his slight blush. “You know why, you colorful menace, you.”
Optimus laughed brightly, swaying them back and forth. “Oh my beloved, quite so. Quite so.”