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He shouldn’t have allowed this to happen. When Blitzwing propositioned him he should have said no, at least he should have realized it was a mistake after the first time. Not to have been looking forward to their secret meetings, yearning for the hungry kisses and the want in Blitzwing’s optics when they met. However Optimus had been weak to it, the way they made him feel.
And now he was sparked. The fragile thing lying next to his own, still not old enough to move into the gestational chamber and begin developing a protoform. A betrayal to everything he thought he believed in.
Shame weighed him down, sickening him in his core. He should ask Ratchet to terminate it, be done with it and break off whatever this thing he had with the Decepticon. But even knowing that another part of him fought against it- so what if he was selfish this once? He wasn’t anyone important, just a Prime of a repair bot team that just happened to stumble upon the Allspark and then Optimus had destroyed it. No, if anything history will speak of him as a villain.
Optimus kept it all close to his spark, putting on a smile as he tried to do right by his team, by the Autobots. Slinking away from medical examinations and making sure to use what little first aid knowledge he had to clean it before Ratchet could think to look for it, or if that didn’t work have Sari use her key to repair him. The fatigue was easy to explain if he just worked harder, did more, not letting a moment go by while he wasn’t preoccupied trying to hide his mistakes by being the picture perfect Autobot doing good.
Blitzwing was a different matter. While straightforward they would realize something was wrong if he started to avoid them. So he swallowed his guilt and headed to the forest clearing where they met up.
Sitting down by the tree where their glyphs had been carved into the bark (Blitzwing had done it when he wasn’t looking, he should have realized he was in over his helm back then) Optimus had to keep his ventilation steady. His fans threatened to kick in over an overheated system that wasn’t happening.
Sure enough Blitzwing arrived. “Optimus!~” he sang with a jagged smile, picking Optimus up from the ground to swing him around in a hug. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before opening his optics to really look at Optimus. With a click his face swapped to cold blue, “something’s wrong.”
Everything was wrong. They shouldn’t be casual enough that it was only natural to be greeted with a hug and a kiss. Optimus shouldn’t lean into his touch and search for comfort from Blitzwing. He should tell them that this is over, he shouldn’t go through with having a sparkling.
He opened his mouth to tell the truth but all that came out were lies, “just a rough day. But I’m glad you’re here.” Returning the embrace, feeling the mech become freezing to the touch as Blitzwing got flustered before the face changed again and the cold became warmth.
“We’re glad to melt your worries away, schatz,” Blitzwing leaned in to nuzzle him, “just say the word and I shall crush whatever bug has caused you to worry so.”
“You shall not,” Optimus said with a well practiced smile for just this line even when he felt his spark jolt on the inside. Blitz always offered to hurt people for him, a constant reminder of what the tank did, despite Optimus never accepting. With their servos above his midsection he couldn’t tell them that they’d have to rip the newspark from his chest to make true on their promise.
So instead of mentioning all that had happened and all his worries Optimus just kissed him. Shutting up any sweetness or promises with hunger. Blitzwing switched again as Zing giggled, pulling him close. “So this is what you want? Don’t mind if we do~”
Optimus didn’t want it to end. For once he wanted to be selfish. He should have known all that it’d bring was pain.
-
Ratchet was the first to notice. It didn’t take a genius to notice that Optimus was acting differently, though even when the signs became clearer his processor stalled the information out of stubbornness. Because the possibility was ridiculous to the core, Optimus had never seemed interested in any of the Autobots and the options on Earth were limited, but he was a medic and he couldn’t let his feelings affect his work.
“Optimus, on the table, now,” Ratchet said gruffly and the Prime stiffened to a ramrod.
“I’m fine, Ratchet,” Optimus tried to wave him off, a strained smile on his lips.
“It wasn’t a request,” Ratchet’s optics bore into his, “you’ve been scratching at your chest plate for a cycle now. I’m doing my job as a medic and taking a look.”
“No!” Optimus hissed and the outburst caused them both to tense, Optimus broke away looking at anything but the medic, “it’s nothing, I’m taking care of it on my own.”
Ratchet ex-vented, “you’re behaving like a sparkling-” Optimus flinched. He set his mouth into a thin line, “you’re a bad liar, kid, if everything is fine just one check up won’t kill you.”
Instead of responding like a rational mech, Ratchet had to catch Optimus mid-transformation as he tried to drive away. “Quit that! Or I’m going to think you’re sparked!” Optimus stopped, going back to his rote mode with a click, optics flaring up in despair. Ratchet faltered, “oh, oh you are, aren’t you?”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Optimus said, quiet as he hung his head, “no one can know.”
“I won’t. Now come here so I can see everything’s in order with you… and the sparkling.”
He nodded, offlining his optics, before choking out an “ok.”
-
The sparkling was further along than he’d thought from avoiding it in the mirror. It was a normal, healthy, newspark. A gluttenous one if his spark-pain was to be believed but as long as he had fuel and transfluid in his tanks it should develop normally. Ratchet had looked like he was eating glass when he asked if Optimus was engaging in regular interfacing and it certainly felt like glass down his throat to confirm yes, he was.
Ratchet didn’t ask who the sire was despite his face gaining another crease and his optic ridges going lower. A small mercy he could only put off for so long. When the topic of aborting the sparkling came up Optimus hesitated, before finally saying “no.” It didn’t come as a relief, just dread.
“Your body will start changing to accommodate the sparkling’s development, if the rest of ‘em figure out what’s happening at that point I can’t help you,” Ratchet told him, a cold reminder.
He managed an Earth day before vomiting.
-
“You look tired, mein Schatz,” Blitzwing said, tracing the darkened circles underneath his optics.
I kept the sparkling because it was yours, I kept it because it was mine, Optimus didn’t say, I feel like I’m dying and yet I cannot bring myself to do anything about it. “It’s been a lot lately,” he said instead.
“Ja, I’d imagine, everytime we spot you you’re running around doing something for those organics,” Blitzwing said, his smile wide and optics narrowed, “have their limbs broken that they cannot even carry small crates?”
“They’re called humans, not organics, and no, they have not broken their arms. It happens that I enjoy helping them.”
Blitzwing hummed at that before his faceplate switched to red and Optimus was pushed down into his lap. “Wha- Blitzwing!” Optimus squaked, trying to get up again despite finding no easy way to push himself off them, “I said I’d only be able to spare a moment!”
“You shall not go back in this state and overwork yourself again,” Blitzwing huffed, wings twitching irritatedly behind him, before his faceplate switched again, “think of it as a forced vacation! Rocka-bye-bye, Optimus~”
“Don’t you have places to be?” Optimus asked, changing focus, “I’m sure you have better ways to spend your time than being my pillow.”
He switched to Wings’, cool blue staring down at him with a smile that would’ve been described as ‘murderous’ if Optimus didn’t know better that it was ‘teasing’. “Oh but I think holding up the Autobot leader is a very good use of our time.”
“You’re terrible, you know that?”
“I do,” Blitzwing’s smile didn’t falter.
Optimus couldn’t help but return it. It’s why he was in this mess in the first place, they made him forget what he was supposed to be and do. “Fine, but wake me before the sun sets. I don’t want to come back to base without doing something.”
Blitzwing’s wings fluttered slightly, shifting to be more comfortable as a lap pillow. “Will do.”
-
They woke him at sunset. Optimus didn’t even have time to curse them as he rushed back to base with no excuse other than “I was tired and fell into recharge without realizing it.”
While the rest of the team seemed to buy it, Ratchet just gave him a look.
-
It was inevitable Blitzwing would find out. When the spark moved into his gestation chamber it came with finality. Optimus could no longer see his lover lest the ruse would come to an end. Even when his newly engaged carrier programming screamed at him to go to the sire and get the transfluid the sparkling needs, he ignored it thinking instead about how Blitzwing would react to the news.
Would he be disgusted? This wasn’t supposed to be serious after all, that it would end was inevitable as the fighting continued- maybe he would finally realize they’d gone too far. Would he be happy? Sometimes Optimus thought that Blitzwing loved him truly, the way he looked with burning in his gaze like Optimus was a blinding sun he couldn’t look away from. Would he be angry? Tied to an Autobot, would he want it terminated, realize this had all been a mistake?
When Blitzwing reached out through coms Optimus impulsively blocked him. Regretting it immediately yet unable to undo it in case he asked just why.
“You need to sit out from patrol duty, kid,” Ratchet said, breaking him out of his silent spiraling.
“What? No, they need me out there-”
“I know the sire is a Decepticon,” Ratchet tried to look non-judgemental, but the jut of his chin and crossed arms spoke for him, “it’s not just for the wellbeing of your sparkling but every time you go out you’re going to risk them finding out and I bet the result ain’t going to be pretty.”
Optimus looked down, “they’re not going to hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that, Optimus.”
-
He should have listened to Ratchet.
-
Optimus should have realized that a blocked comlink and no longer meeting up with Blitzwing made the ‘Con’s only recourse would be to come to him. It started off normal, they interrupted Blitzwing and Lugnut as they were in the middle of stealing construction material before it rapidly spiralled into a team fight.
Blitzwing’s faceplate wouldn’t stay still as they rapidly switched between the three of them. Settling on Blitz, ex-venting a cloud of smoke. It was Optimus’ warning before they threw Prowl to the side and threw themself at him. The jet engines in their pedes shooting the two far out from the rest as Optimus’ back roughly hit the wall.
Servo around his neck Blitzwing pulled him up to their face. “You’ve been avoiding us,” he said, warm air being expelled through his vents as his visor glowed red.
“I-” there was a jolt before Optimus could respond. Blitzwing let go like he’d been burned, wings flaring up behind them. His face switched to blue.
“You’re sparked,” it was a statement and a whisper, optic wide as he stared at Optimus, “ours?”
Optimus nodded, expression pulled tight, “yours.”
He watched their pupil dilate and contract before their faceplates spun. Zing’s optics were wider than he’d ever seen them before, Blitz’s visor glowed with a gentle smile like a miracle he couldn’t believe, and Wings, Wings looked terrified.
Blitzwing wrapped him in a tight embrace, he could feel them tremble around him. “Blitzwing?” Optimus tried to wiggle free only to find they wouldn’t budge, “Blitzwing, we’re still in public, people will see.”
And see they did. “Hey! Let Optimus go!” Bumblebee cried out and a cyberninja star followed soon, digging into Blitzwing’s back. “Optimus!”
Blitzwing screamed, whipping around to freeze everyone. Baring his dentas and flaring his wings in a threat display as their engine rumbled. Optimus kicked him even as he was pulled in tighter, tighter, because he recognized what this was: Blitzwing’s sire programming had activated.
They changed their hold to a bridal carry, the brief loosening of their grip allowed Optimus to get a punch in to try to get them to drop him but instead was met with a whine. Pupil blown wide from terror Blitzwing held him like if he let go it would mean the end of the world.
Blitzwing ran away from the city, forgetting entirely what his mission to that point had been. Optimus heard as asphalt turned to grass saw buildings faded into trees. Shooting out his grappling hook at one he made them jerk back as he slipped from their grasp, elbowing in the face to finally get out.
“No!” Blitzwing screamed, scrambling after him, grabbing his pede as he tried to escape. Optimus brought his axe down on their servo and they let go long enough for him to get on his pedes and ready to fight.
Zing lowered himself to almost crawl to him, wings spread wide and shivering. Submissive, begging, “please, don’t fight us, sweetspark. Just come with me and we’ll take care of you!” He tried to smile but it was more a wobbly baring of his fangs, “we’ll be so good to you, anything you want, anything you need.”
Optimus held his axe in front of him, keeping his distance even as his spark trembled. “I thought you just wanted this to be a fun romp,” he couldn’t help but say, “this wasn’t anything permanent or serious.”
Blitzwing whimpered, drawing closer, “No! Not anymore, Liebes, we want you. We’ll take care of you and the bitlet both, it’s all we need.”
Don’t falter, Optimus grit his dentas. “I don’t need you, I can take care of this on my own.”
Zing switched to Blitz and this time when he pounced Optimus thought he was ready. Bringing his axe down it went into their arm and energon spurt from the wound, but Blitzwing didn’t stop, twisting his servo and using the leverage of the axehead being stuck in their arm to wrench it from Optimus’ grip. Throwing it away.
Optimus’ optics widened and he braced himself as Blitzwing pushed him down. Landing on his back he felt nauseous, vision swimming as he attempted to yet again wiggle out of their grasp. Blitzwing straddled him, pinning his servos over his head.
“You need us,” he growled, “I can feel it, you’re calling to us even when you deny us!” His gaze traveled lower down to Optimus’ abdominal plating, wings lowering as his whole frame softened, “Schatz, mein Schatz, the Autobots scum won’t take care of you.”
“They will not understand my choice but my friends will stand with me,” Optimus said, he hoped.
Blitzwing grit his dentas before switching to Wings, still wide-optic and trembling. “You don’t understand what they’ll do to you, to our sparkling, if they find out,” and to Optimus’ shock coolant dripped from their optics, “you’ll be a traitor but you will not be offlined, they’ll keep you online enough to be interrogated before thrown in a cell to rust. Our sparkling will be terminated or used as a weapon. You have no future with the Autobots.”
Optimus ex-vented, pulling at his servos, “they won’t be that cruel. You knew the Autobots from the Great war, things have changed since then.”
Blitzwing looked like he didn’t believe him. Gently as they could while leaving him no room to escape they pulled his servos together and froze them solid. “Don’t try to fight, you’ll break off your servos before the ice,” a warning filled with concern but a threat in practice.
As they shifted to do the same with his legs, Optimus kicked off, not getting the chance to stumble to his pedes before Blitzwing grabbed him again, his back pressed against their chest. “I don’t think the Decepticons will be any kinder or did you forget I’ve already humiliated your leader twice?”
“We don’t hurt carriers,” Blitzwing nuzzled his neck, Optimus shivered as their freezing faceplate made contact, “we’ll be able to protect you if you become a Decepticon-”
“I thought you understood I’d never join you,” the coldness seemed to spread through him. It had been something they’d agreed on: To try to turn the other to their side was futile and bound to ruin what they had tugging at their loyalties.
Blitzwing scraped Optimus’ Autobot symbol. “I didn’t make the effort to try,” he heard their faceplate spin beside his audial, “but we always thought about it, you at our side. Your brilliance would shine brighter than any star, sweetspark.”
“Don’t say that,” Optimus pleaded, his carrier programming overrode his need to stay on guard, to seek the next opportunity to attempt to get back to his team. The sire would protect him, he was safe. Blitzwing kissed his neck as he relaxed against his will.
Optimus was tired. He was tired from the sparkling inside of him draining his fuel and energy, tired from carrying the guilt and shame, tired from fighting him, of fighting this. “I will not betray my friends, Blitzwing,” he said, head hitting their chest as he looked up at them, “nothing you say will change that.”
Blitzwing’s visor glowed, lips pulled in a tight frown. For a moment they let go of him and briefly Optimus thought they’d seen reason. His knees buckled without their support and it took him a moment to gather his energy now that the adrenaline was lost, even when the sparkling hadn't developed its shell yet he still felt so heavy.
There was a screech of metal behind him and he turned to see that Blitzwing had pinched the wound on his arm closed, finishing it off by using his gun to melt the metal together. “Blitzwing?” Optimus asked, his processor feeling slow and sluggish like everything else.
“I’m sorry,” Blitzwing said, scooping him up again, pressing their forehead against his, “we can’t let you go.” They had closed the wound so his team couldn’t follow the oil stains.
-
Optimus saw a glimpse of Isaac Sumdac before Blitzwing forced him down to the floor of the Decepticon base, lowering their own head in front of Megatron. A mine, the Decepticons had been right under their noses this whole time.
“What is the meaning of this, Blitzwing?” Megatron spoke low, danger clear in his voice. Optimus couldn’t help but tense and try to get up despite Blitzwing’s servo holding him down to bow before the warlord.
“He carries my sparkling,” Blitzwing said it like it was a simple fact, Optimus could feel him tremble.
The laugh that came was mocking, Blitzwing tensed. “I knew of your secret rendezvous, Blitzwing, you’ve always been weak to your whims,” Megatron said, pedesteps approaching leisurely before roughly grabbing Optimus’ face. He could see Megatron’s expression clearly, amusement and disgust mixed into a sneer, “but you, Autobot, I thought you saw yourself above fraternizing? Seems like I had too high standards for you.”
Optimus glanced at Blitzwing only to see the ‘Con wasn’t looking at them, wings held tensely behind them as they kept their gaze to the ground. The message was clear, Blitzwing wouldn’t protect him against their leader. Optimus glared, turning his attention back to Megatron and spit in his face.
Megatron let go, wiping off the lubricant, and then kicked Blitzwing in the head. They bit back a groan and just lowered themselves further. “You are lucky, Autobot, that carriers are irreplaceable. Disappointing sires however?” Megatron crushed Blitzwing’s helm down to the floor with his pede, “I shall give you a chance, Blitzwing, if you convince your little Autobot lover to become a Decepticon before the sparkling emerges I shall allow him to live afterwards.”
“I understand, my lord,” Blitzwing said and Optimus wanted to vomit. It was a threat to them both, if Optimus doesn’t behave Blitzwing will face the consequences and if Blitzwing doesn’t break his spirit he’ll be executed after he’s served his purpose. A deadlock.
“Let him accompany our dear professor Sumdac, let them bond for being both disappointments and traitors,” Megatron mused, waving a servo in dismissal.
Optimus shuddered before Blitzwing grabbed him again. Dragging him to a tube that opened up briefly, roughly being shoved in before the glass closed up again. He had to pull his knees to his chassis to avoid his pedes being crushed.
But what was most claustrophobic was the small human already in there, tired eyes exhausted from sleepless nights and overwork, was Isaac Sumdac. Looking at him in disbelief and horror.
“I’m sorry,” Optimus said, offlining his optics as he tried to take up as little space as possible, “I’m so sorry, I never asked of you.”
Sumdac lowered his gaze, tension seeping out of his body to an old resignation. The following touch as he patted Optimus’ pede was enough to make the mech look at him despite the shame. “I wouldn’t have asked about me either,” the professor said quietly before forcing a smile, “it’s good to see a familiar face at least.”
Optimus didn’t have a heart to return it.
-
There was no escaping that they were trapped. It itched underneath his plating and his carrier programming prompted to find somewhere safe despite his repeated dismissals that he can’t. Curling up and shutting out the outside the best he could to vaguely satisfy the requirements of hiding away. He and Sumdac didn’t talk much, aware of the risk of being overheard and the professor steadily making progress on the project that would turn the tide of the war.
The only relief from the near catatonic state Optimus had forced himself into was ironically Blitzwing. Despite being the reason he was here they were also the only thing the carrier programming recognized as safe, allowing him to think for a little while. It turned out they couldn’t resist their programming any better.
There was a long whistle and Optimus yet again tried to shut off his audials only to be met with denial on his HUD. Gritting his dentas he settled into ignoring the Constructicons yet again.
“Hey tough guy we know you can hear us,” Mixmaster said, knocking on the glass, before turning to Scrapper, “look at him, Autobot thinks he’s so much better than us!”
Scrapper forcibly laughed, “yeah, while we’re here working our afts off he just gets to sit like a pretty little trophy.”
“Hardly seems fair.”
“Hardly.”
Optimus knew it was better to not respond, they were seeking a response to him to jump at like vultures. Any effort to defend himself would only dig the hole deeper and prolong the heckling. He stayed quiet.
“Y’know it makes me think what a lay you have to be to get such special treatment,” Mixmaster pondered. Optimus could feel his gaze turn leering, digging under his plates. “You think Megatron will let us have a sample if we put in a good day’s work?” Optimus’ ventilation stalled.
“It’d probably be at the expense of oil though,” Scrapper said, scratching his neck.
“Aw, c’mon don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it, he’s already opened up his panels for one Decepticon who’s to say he won’t be fine with two more-”
“And what. Are. You two talking about?” Blitzwing’s voice was freezing as he spoke slowly, the tight knot in Optimus’ chest began to unwind a little. “You should be hard at work right about now.”
“We were just talking about your toy here,” Mixmaster said leisurely despite Scrapper’s hushed “don’t!”
“Were you?” Blitzwing’s voice got no warmer, the room filled with the warning growls of his twin engines.
“Yeah, seems fair enough to share,” Mixmaster continued, “heard the talk of baby needing lots of baby batter and it ain’t even needing to come from you.”
“I can make do on my own.”
“C’mon! You get your very own fuck toy-”
There was a bang and Optimus jerked his head up to see the wall behind Mixmaster was cracked as Blitz pulled back his clenched servo. Smoke poured out of his intake as he spoke, “you better watch your words before I take you out- to dance!”
Blitzwing grabbed Mixmaster and spun him around before throwing him at Scrapper, giggling when the mech fell down to the ground in dizziness before reorienting himself.
“Crazy bastard,” Mixmastered muttered, getting back to his legs with Scrapper’s help.
Blitzwing ignored him, turning his attention to Optimus. Now that he was looking at them he saw the strained smile, the slight twitch of their servos. Slowly the tension seeped out as they vented, the hum of engines slowing down.
Mixmaster winked at Optimus behind their back.
Before he could register the nauseating feeling Blitzwing had moved. Screaming filled the room as the wires connecting Mixmaster’s optic to his head snapped.
“Whoops, did I do that?” Blitzwing laughed, low and cruel, “let me fix that up for you.” They grabbed his head, shoving the optic back into the broken socket as he screamed.
“Stop that!” Scrapper begged, trying to pull Blitzwing off to no avail, “boss!”
“Blitzwing stop,” Optimus ordered, it felt like his energon had frozen in his pipes, stuck in place with his processor slow to catch up.
Blitzwing let go. Mixmaster dropped to the floor, writhing and sobbing as his optic barely had power, energon seeping down the socket where mangled and snapped wires kept the optic from sitting right. Bulging from his head.
“You’re sick!” Scrapper said, his fans audible even from behind the glass.
“Let this be a lesson to not try for something that’s not yours,” it was said with deceptive calm.
“What is the meaning of this, Blitzwing?” They all turned to Megatron, lips pulled into a scowl as he took in the scene.
Blitzwing’s optics glowed, shifting slightly, “our new recruits threatened Optimus.”
“Threatened with a good time maybe!” Scrapper snapped.
Megatron narrowed his optics. “I see what’s happened here,” He approached Mixmaster before grabbing his head, surveying the damage. A glance back at Blitzwing before dropping it, “our new recruits don’t know how a carrier should be treated, isn’t that right?”
“Their glossas should be torn out of their intakes!” Hissed Blitzwing.
“Nothing of the sort will be done for an honest mistake,” Megatron said evenly, “this shall be a reminder to all: As long as the carrier stays with us he shall be treated with respect.”
As long as he is a carrier, Optimus heard, after is another matter.
-
There were no more jabs after that. He still got looks sometimes, mostly disgust from Lugnut, but it had gotten easier to vent without stalling. It gave him time to think.
-
Blitzwing was at base monitoring the work today, like a gravitational pull anytime they left Optimus’ side it wouldn’t be long before they came back again. It didn’t even seem like they noticed they did it, nor the way their wings flared whenever anyone even looked at him.
Optimus narrowed his optics in thought. As a test he let himself feel his distress, the unmet needs and fear being among enemies. He didn’t whine or hitch his venting, his chest only felt tighter and he fought against curling in.
Blitz’s head whipped around to him, wings high before they slowly lowered as they were unable to identify a threat. Optimus ex-vented. No hesitation, huh? That meant that they responded to the sire coding’s prompts without even thinking about it. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
But it was a tool to use even if Blitzwing wouldn’t help him escape.
He closed his optics, focusing on the internal diagnostic of his donor tank. 37% filled. It had drained a lot since Optimus had tried to break contact. The reminder made his carrier programming ping and he heard Blitzwing’s vents stall for a nanosec.
Sumdac gasped as Optimus felt the ground shake, opening his optics to Blitzwing pressing against the glass. “I had forgotten the reason we’d sought you out that day,” Wings said, swallowing as his optics scanned Optimus, “you avoided us. And now we’ve neglected you.”
“You have,” Optimus said, raising his head.
Blitzwing shuddered, “my-my apologies.” His servo raised to deactivate the glass before he pulled back, conflicted. “Don’t try to escape. Otherwise we’ll have to do it here and neither of us would want that, Sweetspark.”
“I won’t,” and for now it was the truth.
Blitzwing straightened up and almost emotionlessly turned to Megatron, head bowed, “request to bring Optimus to my habsuit for transfluid donation?”
Megatron’s gaze raked over them and Optimus met it head on, daring the tyrant to deny it. It made Megatron smirk, “you may, make sure he doesn’t run off or I’ll deem you too irresponsible to be the mech to do it.”
Blitzwing tensed and Optimus held back from cursing. Fine, message received.
“It seems all you do is threaten the worst, is that how you lead your men?” Optimus bit out with a glare.
Megatron barely glanced at him, “only as a tool to remind someone of their place. I’m quite willing to forgive and forget if one proves their worth.”
Blitzwing’s metal plates rattled and Optimus couldn’t tell if what was said was a lie or not.
Still, it was permission given so when he was dismissed Blitzwing opened up the glass and pulled Optimus out. Optimus stumbled as he got to his pedes, joints having locked up from lack of use. They seemed to see this as permission to pick him up, slinging him over their shoulder before stalking away.
“I can walk on my own,” Optimus grumbled quietly.
“Cannot risk it,” Blitzwing answered, killing the conversation in its cradle.
It wasn’t what was important anyways. No, what really kept Optimus on alert was the mineshafts. When he had been captured he hadn’t the opportunity to gather his wits enough to notice how they got in, but now he made sure to take note of the path and turns Blitzwing took.
Blitzwing’s habsuit could hardly be called that. A carved area from the end of the tunnel that was just big enough to allow Blitzwing to stretch his wings out. The furniture were crude stone sculptures in the shape of a desk and a berth. It was an almost purely functional space hacksawed together.
As Blitzwing sat him down he could think of no longer as the larger mech pressed into him. Zing taking control and collapsed onto their knees, helm against his stomach as they embraced his waist. “I’m sorry, we’re so sorry,” they sobbed.
“About what?” Optimus asked, servo resting on their helm. The embarrassment? The sparkling? The kidnapping? There were too many things to count but Zing only shook his head and pressed closer. Optimus ex-vented, “fine, if you’re not going to say then just do your duty as a sire and move on.”
There was a click as Blitzwing switched faces, Blitz pressing a kiss to his thigh that made his faceplate heat up despite it all. “I’m sorry our habsuit is unfinished, we wanted to make it perfect for you for when you join us,” Blitzwing said, looking up at him.
That explains why the berth could fit two mechs in the first place, Optimus pressed down the well of feelings it brought to him. “What makes you think I’ll join you?”
Blitzwing rose, trailing kissing on his abdominal plating, chassis and neck as he went before stopping at his face. “You will,” the servo touching his faceplate was gentle. Optimus pushed it away.
“Keep telling yourself that,” at that Blitzwing frowned but before he could say anything else his faceplate spun and Wings pushed him down on the berth.
“You will,” Wings repeated, desperation lacing his words with static.
Optimus kissed him quiet. “What you’ll do is you’ll frag me and get this over with.” He didn’t want their attention to veer off into begging yet.
Blitzwing’s optics flashed and despite not being aroused his spike pressurized dutifully just as Optimus was wet, coding taking care of the preparations automatically. The Decepticon kissed him deeper, pulling him close enough to be chassis to chassis on the berth.
It wasn’t fun. Blitzwing took care to try to be gentle but it was hard to resist programming when it’d been neglected so long. Thrusting became a mechanical chase for release while trying to press as close as possible to him. Optimus didn’t blame him, he was hardly any better off as instead of getting his charge up all he did was feel pliant and calm.
He felt the transfluid get released into his gestational tank and was met with relief as the warning cleared from his processor. Blitzwing’s optics fluttered online, searching his face frowning. Their servo trailed down his plating to rest at his thigh, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
“What are you doing?” Optimus asked.
“We promised to take care of you,” Blitzwing said quietly, “tell me, what do you want, Optimus?”
“Other than my freedom?” Optimus jabbed and the flinch was miniscule but there.
“Other than that.”
Optimus let his head fall back, looking up at the jagged ceiling of the mine. “I don’t know. It feels like I don’t know anything I want anymore.”
They laid quietly there, spike eventually slipping out and modesty panels closing. Blitzwing’s servo raised to rest on his abdominal plating again. “Have you thought of a designation?” Blitzwing asked.
Optimus shuddered, “it doesn’t feel like a person yet to me, I wouldn’t have the slightest clue. Besides, it’s not up to me, the sergeant is the one responsible for giving people their designations.”
Blitzwing narrowed his optic before the faceplate spun to Blitz. “And before that?”
“Well, every sparkling is given a number upon registration.”
Click. “We never got that about you Autobots. No individuality allowed what-so-ever! At least Decepticons appreciate being different from one another.”
“It’s about being part of a greater whole, helping society thrive,” Optimus said with well practiced words.
“A whole load of scrap I say,” Blitzwing hummed with a smile, “I think they’re just scared of what happens when their perfectly planned out tracks are crossed. Oooo, look at me I only drive in a straight line and never do donuts or anything fun ever.”
Optimus laughed while shifting uncomfortably, “we don’t do it for fun that’s for sure but work needs to be done somehow.”
“And what do you do for fun then?”
Optimus bit the inside of his mouth. “Go to Maccadam’s oil house I suppose? Though I can’t say it was ever something for me.”
“But what do you do?” Blitzwing’s optics glowed bright beside him.
“I…” I do you? Was what his mind supplied and desperately tried to find something else before coming up blank. “I suppose I don’t do anything,” there was always work. Sure barely anyone checked on them or enforced a schedule but it had been his responsibility to make sure the Space Bridge was in good condition. On Earth it was still his responsibility to make sure the city was safe and repair the damage their fights brought, ignoring that nobody officially gave them this job.
Blitzwing creased his brow, chuckling, “nothing? Really? You have to have something that’s not work! You can’t possibly live like that.”
His faceplate heated up, “I play with Sari sometimes if that counts?”
“Sari? That tiny human?” They hummed, there was a swish-click, Wings propped themself up on their elbows, “do you want us to get her?”
“No! You leave her alone,” Optimus hissed out, “she doesn’t have anything to do with this. It’s bad enough you’ve already captured her sire, I don't want her anymore involved in this.”
Blitzwing searched his face before ex-venting. “I don’t want you to be miserable, Optimus, anything in our power we’ll give you,” his face shifted to red, voice gravel in its softness, “all you do is sit and wait. Please, let us help.”
“Making my last deca-cycles comfortable before I’m offlined,” it was cruel to say, Blitzwing cringing and pulling away said it loud and clear, Optimus couldn’t help it. They were the only thing he could affect in this helpless place. He looked away, “take me out sometimes. Say whatever Megatron needs to hear to make it so, that I need more transfluid or something. I don’t want to rust away in there.”
“Ja, we’ll do it, we can get you here to our habsuit but we cannot take you outside until you join us.”
“I will never-”
“Optimus,” the way their voicebox cracked with static told him his time was up. It was time for them to beg, like they had been every passing day. “Please, Schatz, being a Decepticon isn’t a death sentence. Your talents will earn you respect and privilege the Autobot scum would never dream of. We take care of our own-”
“Do you?” Optimus said sharply, “because what I’ve seen is a place of everyone walking on eggshells around each other.”
Blitzwing growled, “it was a mistake being punished. We overstepped our bounds, it’s only right.”
“Do you admit I was a mistake?” He already knew Blitz’s response yet still he hoped it’d be different.
“Never,” Blitzwing shook his head, scowl wobbling, pressing against Optimus’ chassis, “du bist mein Ein und Alles, nothing will change that.”
Optimus offlined his optics, venting heavily. “I think it was,” he let out a weak laugh and Blitzwing held him tighter, “I should have known better than to be with you yet I still made the same mistake over and over again.”
“You choose us.”
“I did,” Optimus covered his intake as more laughter slipped out, “it wasn’t even a hard choice, you made it so easy to keep returning.”
Click, Wings took the front, burying into the crook of his neck, “all we had to do was to give you our affection. If only it was that easy to convince you to stay.”
The smile slipped from his lips, “if only.”
-
“Optimus!” Sumdac whisper-shouted when he got put back into the makeshift cell, “are you alright?” His eyes searched Optimus’ frame and it took a moment to register that he thought Blitzwing had hurt him.
“I’m fine. He didn’t do anything to me,” Optimus said and he saw doubt still in the professor’s eyes.
“Don’t lie to me, Optimus, I have ears. He was certainly about to do something if you didn’t comply with following him.”
Right, Optimus felt energon rush to his face, he’d heard that. “I… it won’t be a very pleasant conversation for you, professor Sumdac.”
The human scoffed, brows still furrowed in concern, “I am an adult and a professor in technology at that, I assure you I am not someone that needs to be shielded from hard conversations.”
“If you’re sure,” Optimus had hoped he’d say no, but either way with how the ‘Cons were acting it wouldn’t take much more than a push to figure out what is happening. “How much do you know about Cybertronian reproduction?”
This made Isaac blink, “nothing at all, it wasn’t really something I studied nor… access to study.” The last part was said with a wince.
Optimus nodded, “Sari told me a bit about human reproduction you see. It’s similar in many ways but different in some major areas. Such as… Cybertronian carriers cannot forge a sparkling on their own like human carriers can after the sparking. They need transfluid to complete this process.” He couldn’t meet the professor’s eyes at this despite trying to think of it just as a lesson review, “sires help donate it.”
Understanding made Sumdac gasp, “you’re with a child and Blitzwing is…”
“The father, as you humans would put it,” Optimus cringed, “he’s unable to hurt me. It would go against base programming.”
“I see… well that’s good at least,” Sumdac sagged before his frown deepened, “then, is this something you wanted? Not the imprisonment and such but being a father? From where I’m standing it doesn’t seem you have much of a say here.”
Optimus ex-vented, letting his head thump against the wall. Did he want it? All he could think about the sparkling is the dread of what comes after and the fear of losing it. “I think so, otherwise none of this would make sense, would it? Going through all this,” he smiled weakly.
Isaac didn’t mirror it, “if you’re sure,” he patted Optimus’ pede and for a moment the image of Sari flashed in his mind. “Either way, I am here. It does no good in struggling alone, believe me, I’d know.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
“Just call me Isaac, hardly anyone does.”
-
“You’ll get the respect and admiration you deserve, Sweetspark, not many can fight Megatron and live. That you were an Autobot will be but a distant memory. With your talents you would be able to do anything, be anything.”
“I do not want to be admired like that, I don’t want to be used as a weapon, Blitzwing.”
Blitzwing drew back, “our child will be a weapon with the Autobots, even in the slim chance they let you go unpunished they won’t respect you.”
Optimus flinched, “it doesn’t matter.”
-
He hadn’t needed to say it when his forge pinged for metals, the same signal sent to the sire. The next time Blitzwing came back from getting construction materials he also came with a big container of scrap metal.
Optimus cast a glance at Isaac when he saw it, “I’m sorry, I suggest deactivating your audio feed for this.”
“Why would the professor do that? We’ve been looking forward all da- do it or I’ll rip out your audibles myself!” Despite the violent words as Blitz switched in with a grin, the same eagerness apparent.
Left between two bots Isaac covered his ears, squinting, “alright, alright, you don’t need to tell me twice!”
Seeing him comply made Blitzwing open the feeding opening, switching back to Zing as he hummed, holding out the scraps for Optimus. In the smashed and torn bits Optimus could recognize some of the police bots as well as construction vehicles, cringing a bit when he realized this was probably taken while they were getting materials for the space bridge.
“I’m not going to eat out of your servos, Blitzwing,” Optimus said with a half hearted glare. Carrier programming pinging with the command to eat.
They pouted but relented, handing the scraps over instead. Optimus cast a glance at Isaac to double check that he had his cowered his ears before biting into it. The screech of metal shearing metal was loud and piercing as he ate. It was at this point that Optimus realized he had never known what it’d meant to be hungry.
He could hear Blitzwing clap as he devoured the meal. Iron, copper, glass, it all slunk down his throat and filled him up. Thoughts were pushed out with the mechanical need to fill his forge. Only when Blitzwing’s servo scraped against an empty container was he brought back to the present, heavier than ever.
“Oh,” Zing said, frowning, before Wings took over, “are you satisfied, Optimus?”
“No,” he said, licking his lips of any stray shards, “it’s going to take a lot more than that to fill me.”
“Seems we have a big job ahead of us,” Blitzwing didn’t look put out by that at all, optics scanning Optimus’ like he would be already seeing the results of the day’s haul.
A cold reminder that Optimus’ time was now limited before he would significantly slow down with the building bulk.
“Is this going to be a recurring thing?” Isaac asked, picking up the stray pieces that had fallen.
“Until the sparkling is ready to emerge,” Optimus answered, Blitzwing’s expression tightened as he came to the same conclusion of their limited time.
“We’ll have to make sure to not overload your forge, give it time to be smelted,” Blitzwing muttered, anxiety creeping back in.
“Yes, all the time it needs,” no need to haste the process, they both agreed.
“... Anything more you need, Optimus?” Blitzwing asked softly.
“Everything for now, it’ll only get to the details once the protoform has been covered.”
With a nod Blitzwing left, Optimus didn’t stop him as Isaac waved for his attention once the Decepticon turned.
In his hand was a bolt that had fallen out, once he was sure had seen it did he pocket it, not saying a word. Like a bolt of lightning it hit him. The professor could use the scraps to make them a way out, Optimus just needed to not eat those parts.
While they couldn’t exchange smiles unless the Decepticons caught on, there was fire back in their eyes.
-
The renewed hope didn’t go unnoticed but Optimus hid it as post-feeding lust. Blitzwing wouldn’t let anyone else do the duty of giving him things to eat and while Wings was observant it was easy to distract him by allowing him to fulfill his role as sire.
He used the increased frequency of the trysts to stretch out his limbs and regain some of the lost mobility he got from sitting cooped up all day. Meanwhile Sumdac used the temporary lack of oversight to create something functioning.
“You’re beautiful,” Blitzwing said from the berth as Optimus bent over, checking that his wheels would still roll.
Optimus’ fans kicked up a notch while he cycled his optics, “of course you’d say that. Unless the whistles on the battlefield were just for show.”
“No, we meant it all,” Blitzwing rose up, servos wandering up the smooth of his legs to the grills on his abdomen. Optimus shivered, he’d already started to build up thicker plating around the protoform.
“Enjoy it while you can, I’m not going to stay like this for much longer if your enthusiasm continues,” Optimus flickered their nose, causing their face to playfully spin despite ending up on Wings’ again.
He hummed, pressing against Optimus’ back and Optimus could feel the heat of his frame, cold air blowing next to his finials.”We’ll enjoy you any way you’ll give us, I do not have any cause of concern that your changing frame will change that.”
“Perhaps because you enjoy already like me at my heaviest as a firetruck,” Optimus leaned back into him with a wry smile, “I could probably flatten you if I wanted to.”
Now the face switch came with giggling, Blitzwing’s optics glowing bright. “Liebling, you could flatten me any cycle, even better you could sit on my faceplate right now.”
“You’re charged up already?”
“Can you blame us?” Blitzwing purred, nipping at his finial, “you look so tasty, sweetspark, we’re always thinking of eating you up.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who should fill up your forge,” Optimus mused, gaze lowering, “better to start early after all.” To make you heavier, to prepare for if this plan goes awry.
“Only if you’ll feed me~”
Optimus chuckled, “what are you? A sparkling?”
Blitzwing nipped at him again, sharp dentas threatening to pierce the delicate hull on his throat. His arms wrapped fully around Optimus and it was with vertigo and a yelp Optimus was lifted up and dropped on the berth. “You’re right, as a big strong mech I can get my own meals,” he hummed, spreading open Optimus’ legs, “if you’ll let me?”
Optimus being soft on them was what got him into this mess but it was a weakness he hadn’t gotten over. He let his modesty panel transform away revealing his valve. Blitzwing giggled, wings fluttering.
He pressed a kiss against his valve, glossa teasing the node as Optimus drew a sharp breath before relaxing again. Blitzwing lapped at his folds, seemingly enjoying the taste and texture as much as eeking out another ex-vent turned moan from Optimus. Charge rose slowly, no rush to overload like in the beginning.
Zing was being a downright tease the way his glossa would almost press into the hole before going back to the folds. Giving kitten licks to the outer node to keep his charge up without taking off the edge. Optimus felt his body heat up under the careful administrations but felt no need to hurry it along. Enjoying the show as Zing offlined their optics, looking blissed out at the simple task of being of service.
“There you go, you’re doing so good for me, Blitzwing,” Oprimus said. Blitzwing shuddered at the praise, optics opening a smidge with lust shining clear in them. Putting Optimus’ legs on his shoulders so he could continue his task even more fervently.
Only when Optimus was trembling from the charge did he let his glossa penetrate. Its length and thickness found a snug place within Optimus’ valve, able to stimulate all the internal nodes as it licked deeper and deeper. Optimus was panting and writhing by the time the glossa had fully extended inside.
He never had gotten used to it despite it being one of Zing’s favorite things to do. Unlike a spike that stimulated through friction the glossa had the added benefit of being able to put pressure once inside. Honing in on the nodes Zing was only encouraged by his stuttering moans as he did so. It wasn’t enough to cause an overload, the outer node was still the most sensitive, but it was close.
“Frag, Zing,” Optimus panted. The Decepticon purred his engines in response, drawing back the glossa making sure to push the walls of the valve on the way out.
“But I’m already doing that?” Zing teased and Optimus had the brief thought of kicking him off the berth for it.
“I want your spike, want your transfluid,” he said instead, pinging the donor tank as a reminder (despite it being 80%) as he removed his legs from Blitzwing’s shoulders and spread them wider.
Blitzwing licked his lips panting as his spike pressurized, when he kissed Optimus he could feel the taste of his own lubricant on their tongue before Zing switched out to Blitz.
Optimus tilted his head, “why does Zing never stay in when it comes to interfacing?”
Blitzwing hesitated a moment, “it’s painful.”
“Painful?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, Sweetspark,” then he playfully growled, “unless you’d rather get spiked by him than me?”
Optimus flickered his nose, “now don’t get pedantic when it’s the same spike. Go on, ravage me, Blitz.”
They proceeded to do just that, his transfluid tanks pinging a happy 100% by the end of it. The excess sticking to his legs before Blitzwing cleaned it up with his glossa, enjoying the afterglow.
-
“Please, Liebling, we need you,” Blitzwing sobbed, “are morals worth your life? I-I can’t raise a sparkling on my own, I don’t want to, is being with us so terrible? Is what we are so horrible you’d rather die than join us?”
“You can let me go. It is not a choice to be Decepticon or death, there’s always another way,” then Optimus added quietly, “you could be an Autobot if you set your mind to it.”
Blitzwing shook their head, “they’ll offline us. I can’t risk us dying, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
-
When Blitzwing next pours his haul into the cramped prison he is sporting dents, wings flicked in slight irritation before taking his seat to watch Optimus eat, tired. Tired enough not to notice something had been mixed into the garbage.
Optimus quickly stuffed his intake, pretending it was ravenous appetite guiding him, letting the object fall from the ‘Con’s view as his spark pounded in his chest. He hadn’t seen what it was, just that it was different from anything else. Placed.
Ratchet must’ve kept the team informed of what was happening. They knew what Blitzwing was doing and who it was for. He swallowed the shame and gratefulness with the sheetmetal and rubber. His frame was already running hotter in an effort of his forge breaking down the materials so the flush on his face and burning in his optics were easy enough to dismiss.
That night when the Constructicon’s shift ended Sumdac and he looked close at what they’d gotten in the day’s haul. Isaac’s face lit up as he picked it up, “my old shrink gun. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.”
“You think we can use it?” Optimus scanned it and honestly it didn’t look like a ‘gun’ at all, it looked like a broken antenna.
“Well it’s a little dented and never worked, bad habit of exploding,” Isaac turned it on the glass with a grin, “but if we fix it up we can use that defect as a one way ticket out of here! Well, I would need a way to keep the explosion going in the right direction and a way to make it more powerful but…” he looked at the small knobs and baubles he had been able to squirrel away, “without a way to deform metal to reinforce it’ll be quite the task.”
Optimus’ optics widened, “how high is the temperature needed for that?”
“Around 752 Fahrenheit? Though I don’t have any tools to handle those temperatures."
“You don’t need a tool, Isaac,” Optimus’ smile grew, “those are within my range of handleability and you remember how Blitzwing and I were talking about a forge?”
“Yes, though I got the impression it was something inside you.”
Now Optimus’ smile became a smirk, “and that means you already have a strong metal you can use for reinforcement. The metals and minerals I melt don't descend into the gestational chamber immediately, the temperature must rise to a certain point to ensure complete sterility of bacteria, which means…”
“You can vomit it up,” Isaac said, eyes wide and near giddy.
“Exactly.”
“Alright! I got my work ahead of me making sure this thing will explode properly and you-”
“Will keep the Decepticons' attention away from you,” they couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces here in the dark of night. Hopeful that this all would soon be behind them.
-
To hide the vomit as natural was easy, to purge one's tank was common after overeating and Blitzwing had the habit of overestimating how much Optimus needed. In doing so the Decepticon’s focus narrowed to a pin prick as he barked the order for the Constructicons to clean up before the protometal could fuse to the screens. No one had the forethought to wonder what the little human was dipping into it.
“I’m sorry, Sweetspark, we should have kept better check of your forge capacity,” Blitzwing fretted, wiping off the dribble on his chin. Optimus allowed to indulge in this tenderness, leaning into the servo, it might be the last time after all.
“No, it was my fault, I thought I could handle it. Don’t blame yourself,” Optimus reassured them, a half lie and truth.
Blitzwing leaned in to kiss him, tongue wiping up the protometal on the inside of his intake and corner of his mouth. He drew back, licking his lips, “maybe you’re right it’d do us well to take up more of the smelting myself, so this can be prevented.”
Guilt stung but still Optimus managed to smile.”I have some good ideas at times,” he said, interlacing their servos in lieu of an apology that it will be for naught if everything goes well.
The cough behind them reminded them that they weren’t in private and hastily Optimus pulled away, Blitzwing’s servo closed around nothing.
-
They were ready by nightfall but they delayed the plan until the next time Blitzwing and Lugnut had to gain new construction material. Zing made a promise to eat lots so he could help with the little wrecking ball (Optimus had to nip that idea for the sparkling’s name in the bud) before they set off. This ensured the time the pair was away would hopefully be longer, leaving just Mixmaster, Scrapper, and Megatron in the mines.
The Constructicons would be easy enough, from what Optimus had observed they had no experience other than in construction and wouldn’t be prepared for a sudden conflict. Megatron however… Optimus had been able to face him off and survive and with the self described ‘no harm to carriers’ rule it was theoretically possible to be able to get somewhere where he could reach his team. However this assumed the warlord would keep to his word.
But they had no choice, Megatron did no grunt work and such would always be at the base coordinating with the Decepticons in the far reaches of the Galaxy. This was the best combination of ‘Cons they had. A slight chance of escape was still better than zero chance.
Without the oversight of the more experienced ‘Cons it was easy to use the Constructicons’ laidback moods against them. All Sumdac had to do-
“What do you mean you ain’t got the blueprint ready yet?!” Mixmaster balked, optics narrowing at the professor.
“I’m saying I haven’t figured out how this part is put together- if we do it wrong it might lead to an implosion which will send us back months!” Isaac stressed.
“Well figure it out!” He said, stomping his pede into the ground and causing Optimus to need to keep Isaac from tipping over. Thankfully, Scrapper took the bait, elbowing Mixmaster before whispering in his audials, eyeing the excess oil stashes some ways away. “Nevermind, you’ll get to it when you get to it, we deserve a break anyway.”
“Oh, alright!” Isaac said, once the pair turned he gave Optimus a wink and the bot had to suppress a smile.
They waited with nerves as the pair began drinking, too soon and they would be able to react in time, not soon enough Lugnut and Blitzwing would block their escape. Every nanoklick dragged while Isaac tried to look like he was working hard solving the problem. Optimus watching with his cap obscuring his optics.
He listened for when their speech started slurring, the splash of oil against the ground as they spilled in more emotional moments. Then he gave a nod to Sumdac who took a deep breath to steel his nerves. Holding out the modified shrink gun out against the glass and-
BANG! The glass shattered, a gaping wound in its protective layer Optimus took advantage of to break it further so he could run, not minding the surprised shrieks of the Constructicons as he grabbed Isaac and transformed. “Put your seat belt on, it'll be a bumpy ride.”
“No need to tell me twice!” Isaac said with the click of his seatbelt and Optimus took off racing.
He knew the way to Blitzwing’s habsuit like the back of his servo but the ‘Con had always been careful not to reveal any clue on the way out. And so he had to orient himself by the vague memories of his initial capture.
He heard transformation and pedesteps behind him. Pressing down on the gas he made a sharp turn within the mineshaft, hearing Mixmaster crash into the wall behind him and swearing up a storm.
Alarm bells rang inside his processor when they went quiet, listening. Then he heard an engine rumbling further away. “They’re going to block us in,” Optimus told Isaac grimly.
“Any way to avoid them?”
“None that we know of, a confrontation will be inevitable if we don’t find an exit.”
He swerved and- “There! I see the light,” Isaac pointed out through the windshield only for the tunnel ahead to be blocked, Megatron’s glowing red optics glaring at them. “And I see trouble,” he finished meekly.
“Going so soon?” Megatron mocked. Optimus’ processor kicked up his fans in its haste to think of what to do. They had to pivot, the corridors were too cramped to get around and Megatron would overpower him now he didn’t have his ax.
Sumdac jostled inside him at the sudden reverse and acceleration, having to resist the urge to grab onto the steering wheel as they scraped against the walls in their haste.
“Any other light?” Optimus asked quickly, spotting the Constructicons along the other corridors.
“No, no, there!” Sumdac put on the blinker to show before quickly realizing that was likely a bad idea but Optimus had no space in his processor to think about the pursuers. He drove to the light only to have to put in full breaks once they got inside to avoid falling down the cliff.
Optimus transformed standing on the edge. The fresh scent of pine came from the other side of the gap while the sound of the rushing river below. Looking up he could see the treetops but the cliffside wasn’t on the same plain to the mine opening, he’d have to climb.
“O-Optimus,” Sumdac said weakly, he could feel him tremble on the driver’s seat. It didn’t take much to realize who he had spotted behind them.
“Got it out of your system, Autobot? There’s nowhere for you to run,” Megatron’s smooth voice drawled, catching up at a leisurely pace. Behind him Optimus could see the Constructicons blocking the way.
If Optimus had his axe he could use it to defend himself and as leverage to get up, without it he’ll have to rely on just his grapple. He looked back at the gap. It was large enough for a Decepticon’s alt-mode to fly; he'll be grabbed before he makes it to the top.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough foolish ideas for one cycle?” Megatron said, optics flashing in warning.
But he had to try.
Optimus fired away his grapple, feeling it snag around a tree, and jumped. Sumdac’s scream of terror hit his audials just as Megatron lunged for him. He landed on the cliffside and had barely a moment before Megatron transformed into his helicopter alt.
Casting a glance he kicked off, pulling at his grapple, retracting the line enough he could stomp onto Megatron’s hull. Getting another opportunity to jump upwards. The tree creaked as it pulled his full weight again before cracking, sliding him down a bit but the roots held on. He didn’t plummet down into the water below.
Pull, pull upward, he screamed inside his mind. He only had a few seconds before Megatron would get his momentum back. Let them be enough.
His servo grasped at the dirt and grass, they slipped through his digits and he heard the final snap of the roots giving way. Time slowed in the moment of vertigo. He would live, Cybertronians were built to last, but humans- the impact with the water would kill Isaac or a leakage would drown him.
His servos reached out and Blitzwing grabbed him before he could fall. Hanging on the cliffside they vented hard, pupil a pinprick. Optimus could feel them tremble as they held on.
“Good, Blitzwing, bring him back in,” Megatron said, voice low.
Don’t, please, Optimus begged silently.
Blitzwing looked between them, frown pinched before pulling Optimus up. They didn’t give him the opportunity to feel hope as they engaged their thrusters, carrying him down and turning all their efforts to be for nothing.
“Come along now,” Megatron said and Blitzwing listened, dragging Optimus by the wrist back into the mines. The light grew dimmer the further they walked. They didn’t look at him, keeping their gaze right in front.
Seeing the destroyed glass the warlord clicked his glossa. “What a mess you’ve made, Autobot,” he said like Optimus was but a sparkling being put in his place, “now what to do with you.” Optimus tensed but instead Megatron’s gaze rested upon Blitzwing, “kneel.”
No, nonono. “He didn’t have anything to do with this!” Optimus screamed out as Blitzwing let go only for Lugnut to hold him back. Wings looked emotionless as he kneeled down.
“I thought I had made it clear who was responsible for the carrier, didn’t I, Blitzwing?”
“You did,” they answered monotone.
“You don’t have the right to do this! He listened to your orders, he captured us, what use is punishing him?” Optimus desperately struggled against Lugnut’s iron grip before the jostle inside his chest reminded him that he still had a passenger.
“There was only one way for Professor Sumdac to gain the materials to cause an explosion and there was only one way for metals to get in,” Megatron said, voice sharp and Blitzwing tensed further. Megatron motioned for Scrapper to grab his toolbox, pulling out a drill. “Do you accept your guilt?”
“I do.”
“And any punishment hereby given?”
Blitzwing lowered his head, “I do.”
They didn’t flinch when Megatron pressed his servo against their back. Screw by screw he detached their wings, letting them fall on the ground useless beside them.
“Hereby you are grounded until the new cells are installed, do not disappoint me again.”
“Thank you for your mercy, my lord,” Wings said, hollow.
-
“Get on with it!” Blitzwing roared as Mixmaster and Scrapper hurried along to build the new cell, carving it out of the mine wall while adding extra support. The hinges where his wings once were flared up and trembled, subconsciously he scratched the stump.
The original cell had its glass replaced and the professor locked inside. But now that it was deemed too much of a security risk to keep him and Optimus together Blitzwing had been put as the overseer of the new cell’s construction, as well as making sure Optimus didn’t make another attempt.
They didn’t have to bother with such a precaution. Blitzwing hadn’t been the same after his wings had been removed, irritable and jumpy; it was rare for him to switch to anyone other than Blitz. Their paint was scratched from the few times Zing had fronted, Optimus hadn't seen Wings since.
The message was clear to the Autobot, this was a warning. If it had been anyone else but Blitzwing the punishment wouldn’t have been anything more than an inconvenience, but it was clear to him that Megatron knew it was torture to the triple changer. If you try to escape again things will only get worse from here.
He couldn’t risk it.
With Blitzwing grounded it was Lugnut and one of the Constructicons who would go out and then come back with construction materials as well as the scraps for the sparkling. Still Blitzwing’s job to ensure he ate it.
Where before it was a time of teasing and lighthearted flirtation Blitz no longer trusted him enough to let him do it on his own. Feeding the scraps by servo and checking that Optimus had actually swallowed. It dragged on but Optimus didn’t fight it, it was yet another reason for Blitzwing to be blamed for his actions and he wouldn’t let it be.
Turned out they had started smelting the protometal like they’d said they would, the first transfer made him choke in surprise at the thick hot liquid poured down his throat through what he thought was going to be a peck. Blitz held him in place until Optimus gave the update on his internals to show he was full.
“The bitlet is getting big,” Blitzwing said in a whisper.
Optimus’ couldn’t ignore the changes to his body anymore. His systems were working overtime to provide for the sparkling that was quickly outgrowing his slender frame. Bulking up substantially around his waist and legs, he wasn’t the boxy shape of a late stage carrier yet but it was enough to make him feel alien in his own body.
“How big were you as a sparkling?” Optimus asked, tired with the energy drain getting worse in tandem to the changes.
“Don’t know if we ever was one,” he thumped his helm against Optimus’, “likely not.”
“So it’ll be a surprise,” he said dryly, smiling without joy. Some part of him wished he could be excited, but truth be told the emptiness he felt when he thought of the sparkling had only grown. A shadow of dread hung over him.
“I hope she’ll look like you, a tiny little truck,” Blitzwing said, resting his chin on his helm as they closed their arms around him.
“Don’t, I don’t want to talk about it,” he tried to shake them off but was only held tighter.
“What part?”
Optimus bit the inside of his intake, “what it’ll be.”
Blitz frowned, “the emergence will happen sooner or later, Schatz.”
“But will I be there to see it?” Optimus fidgeted.
“Of course you will, Liebes,” he said it like it hadn’t occurred to him otherwise, “you’ll stay with us.”
Optimus let out a harsh laugh and attempted to push away, “you still believe that? Even now after everything?” He didn’t get far but just enough to meet Blitz’s visor.
“There’s no other path to take, Optimus.”
“That’s a lie and you know it,” Optimus glared, lowering his voice.
Blitzwing’s hinges creaked as they spasmed. He shouted at the Constructicons to continue working before dragging Optimus’ off to his habsuit. Once inside he pinned Optimus against the wall, venting heavily. “Do we have to beg again? What would it take for you to accept it?”
“There’s nothing you can say to make me want to be a Decepticon, Blitzwing, or do you think I haven’t noticed you don’t ever talk about your end goals while selling it to me?”
“Fine, you want to know?” Blitzwing huffed, letting go, “we want to go home, we want Cybertron to be what it once was. The Autobots have robbed us of what should have been ours.”
It sounded rehearsed, “and after that? After Cybertron is yours, then what happens?”
His frown twitched, shifting his weight, “we’ll be an empire again.”
Now that made him go cold, “what? After the Decepticons win the war you’ll continue waging war and conquering?”
Blitzwing’s frown deepened, like he knew this would be his reaction, “we’re a weapon, Optimus, there is no place for us other than conflict.”
It broke something inside him hearing that. “But you’re not, you’re a person. We’ve been at peace for one million stellar cycles and you’re still here.”
”I knew you wouldn’t get it,” he looked away, the hinges creaked again as he subconsciously tried to release some agitation, “you’re… you weren’t made for war.”
“What I don’t understand is why you seem to think I’d not get it because I am a civilian frame but still expect me to to join you,” Optimus glared, biting the inside of his intake, “you’re right. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you’d want to be used like that, I don’t get why you listen to someone who hurts you.”
“Megatron doesn’t hurt me,” Blitzwing growled out.
“And what else would you call what he did? You’re miserable, Blitz!” Optimus grabbed their arms, forcing them to look at the scratches.
“Megatron was being merciful, he didn’t hurt us, that our processor can’t adjust to not having wings is our own fault!”
“Merciful?” Optimus laughed, trembling from rage, “it was cruel. And you- and you thanked him for it,” his voice went quiet, “I will never follow someone who uses someone’s connections to punish them. You did everything he wanted to and was still blamed for my actions.”
“If you hadn’t tried to run he wouldn’t have-“ their voice stuttered, “you knew he would. Carriers are more important than sires.”
“I thought he’d have no reason to blame you, but it doesn’t make it my fault,” he grabbed their servos, “please, Blitzwing, you have to see that this is wrong. Do you really want to raise our sparkling here? When anything could be exploited? To be raised to be a tool in a war?”
“She doesn’t have to be,” Blitzwing reassured, closing their digits around his, “not every Decepticon is a fighter, if she’s anything like you she’ll be just fine.”
Optimus pulled away, frustrated, “but I’m not fine! I will never serve Megatron, never.”
Blitz’s visor flared, “and if you didn’t? If you-“ his face spun as he stumbled to try to grab him again before he manually stopped it, still Blitz, “please just… think about it. A future with you and I. If you truly think our sparkling will be raised horribly then you should stay, we said before but please don’t make us do this without you.”
Optimus shook his head, “I’m not the one enforcing this deadline, Blitzwing, maybe you ought to blame the mech who’s going to be responsible for my death.”
Blitzwing flinched like he’d been struck. Clenching his fists he couldn’t meet Optimus’ gaze anymore.
Words trailed off into nothing as Blitzwing brought him with him back to oversee the making of his own prison. Air thick with tension.
-
Despite the argument there was no opportunity to get space to cool down, emotions flaring up whenever his optics met Blitzwing’s. It was wrong to blame them, he knew, but he still couldn’t help but be angry. He wanted to shake some sense into them and just take them and Isaac far away from here.
It still grated that he needed Blitzwing. It wasn’t about a choice of wanting to interface but the program pinging in his processor that he needed the transfluid. He tried to dismiss the notice but once it fell far enough, quicker than it used to, the sire would pick up on it anyway. But it wasn’t a low transfluid ping that would break the stalemate, it was the energy drain.
With no cell to recharge in he did so in Blitzwing’s arms, caged in so he couldn’t move. It satisfied the carrier coding, telling him he was safe. So safe he just…
“Optimus?” The voice was distant, muddled. It repeated, louder. He wanted to cover his audials but found he couldn’t move. His systems ran hot and doing a diagnostic scan he didn’t find anything actually wrong. His carrier programming was simply working as intended, shutting down his motor functions to conserve energy now that the sire was present. “Sweetspark?” Cold servos touched his faceplate and he could online his optics to see Wings over him.
“I’m fine,” Optimus said, it was true in a way, but in all honesty he was scared. Even his body was a prison now.
He didn’t say that because Wings looked worse than ever. They looked ill, optics discolored into a dull red which made the black around them look even darker, scanning him helm to pede. It seemed they had reached a conclusion by how their expression pinched with pain. “It’s the sparkling, isn't it? She’s taking more than you can handle.”
“If I recharge longer it will be fine,” he said quietly.
It didn’t have the desired effect, Blitzwing’s frown deepened. Offlining their optics they seemed to come to a decision. Opening up their sparkchamber to him, he could hear the way the hinges moved on their back- a flutter. Wings groaned in pain, clenching their fists to resist scratching. Focusing instead on Optimus. “If we spark merge I’ll be able to share your burden,” they said hushed, not quite meeting his optics.
“I’ll also be able to see your memories,” Optimus reminded them.
Zing switched in with a chuckle, “not much to see in this mess.” He hit his head with a clang and it was enough to disengage the paralysis. Optimus gently brushing their helm.
It was a lie, of course, Blitzwing was a trusted Lieutenant in the Decepticon army while Optimus was a nobody. He could only hope his team had the foresight to have moved the Allspark after his capture.
He brought his servo up to the exposed spark, feeling the electricity as Blitzwing trembled at the action. They didn’t disengage, just letting him do what he wished. “I should have said it before,” he murmured slowly, looking into the light, “that I think you’re beautiful too.”
Blitzwing flushed, this time when he heard creaking they pivoted to kissing him. It warmed him up inside, wrapping his arms around them before opening up his spark chamber.
The first touch of their sparks came with a jolt, Blitzwing instinctively jumping back and switching to Blitz. His visors glowed as they looked at his spark, awe turning into a suppressed but giddy smile.
Slowly they closed the distance again, now expecting the initial shocks. Pressing closer, closer, until the sparks met. It lit him up like an overload, electricity coursing through his wires and his fans engaged. Together their engines purred, a roar at first but then slowly as the sparks began merging so did the sounds they made. Revving in tandem.
He could feel Blitzwing like his own arm, he felt his arms around them like around himself and Blitzwing’s caress like he was the one doing it. The pulse of his spark was theirs and theirs his. It made him -them?- giddy thinking about it, finally there was no ambiguity. For the first moments everything felt right, nothing hurt, not his spark nor his wings.
Then when the last walls of separation fell away it was like a plummet.
He remembered- How fun it had been at the battlefield, one of the thousands he’s been, it would never end. Energon stained his servos and he felt satisfaction because the only thing he was good at was hurting others-
-His processor was being torn apart there was nothing else that could explain this pain. It hurt, he needed it to not hurt, he dug his digits into his skin and pulled-
-Floating and separate yet fully present, he was and wasn’t in control. He heard himself think and have himself answer but it wasn’t him it was different it sounded different, it’s been like this as long as he bothered recalling-
-He saw Optimus’ on the screen, the so-called killer of Megatron, and he felt -anger- -intrigue- -elation- -hunger-
They ripped apart with a force that crackled in its wake, a painful shearing of the mind as they ventilated heavily. His body felt wrong the moment he came back, that he was somehow too small before double checking. Nothing had changed but his -Blitzwing’s- memories still played in his processor. He’d worried about information leaking he hadn’t worried about… about this.
Blitzwing’s face spun as they likely were dealing with their own confusion on where Optimus ended and they began. Zing clicked in place and cackled before Blitz switched in with a growl, “the Autobots treat you less than an insect and yet-” another switch, Wings, “and…” before finally Zing wheezed out, a strained mournful smile, “you will never be happy here, never ever.”
Optimus’ focused back his attention to them, not knowing how to feel or even what it was he was feeling. “You don’t remember why you became a Decepticon,” he said. All he remembered was war, he didn’t even know if it was the great war he had seen. It never seemed to end.
Blitzwing flinched.
“You don’t remember being anything but a Decepticon,” Optimus repeated, desperation taking hold of him. He stumbled as he got off the berth, grabbing Blitzwing’s shoulders, “you don’t have to stay here, we can get out together. Blitzwing, please-”
Click, Wings stared down at him with that same vacant gaze. Optimus’ watched their spark chamber open up again and with only a beat of hesitation he followed suit.
This merge was more like a push of a cliff into cold water.
-Starscream had attacked Megatron, traitor, a scum of a Decepticon. And Megatron killed him.-
-The surprise at Starscream’s return was met with the same shriek of tearing metal as Megatron killed him again. They disposed of the body down the ravine.-
-Megatron killed Starscream again-
-And again-
-And again-
-As many times it took for the traitor to die.-
“There is no escape, Optimus,” Blitzwing said, drawing back and leaving him with the empty space where their dread had occupied.
-
“Shortstop,” Blitzwing said, one cycle, “if we could choose the sparklings designation, it’d be Shortstop.”
“How come?” Optimus asked, tired.
“Because hopefully, this will all just have been a short stop in our lives,” Blitzwing said, his smile didn’t quite reach his optics.
-
The grounding was finished the moment Optimus was locked inside the new cell. It was less cramped than Sumdac’s had been but he could not stand nor find leverage within. A holding box. The feeling of being but a decoration came back and his plating itched in discomfort.
But the worst part was the second part of his punishment that he hadn’t known until now. Blitzwing didn’t come to visit him often anymore, out to ‘make up for lost time’. Optimus hadn’t realized how used he’d become to the Decepticon’s presence, how needed it had been, until he was gone.
The carrier code came back with a vengeance now that there was no security nor sire to keep the sparkling safe. It felt like the first deca cycle trapped here but worse. His body and processor betrayed him, not satisfied until he made himself as small as possible to escape notice. It was hard to do anything else. He hated it, he hated this.
Optimus was tired.
Some part of him wanted to enter stasis until all of this was over, one way or another. But he didn’t because he wasn’t alone.
Even when doing much of anything became increasingly difficult Isaac still was there. Because of the increased security he didn’t talk of plans to get out or anything bound to upset the Decepticons it was just… domestic things. How life as a human had been, how he had been a gifted child and how he had to grow up without peers, how he was scared Sari would grow up the same.
That he was sorry, for everything. If only he hadn’t… if he had… maybe things would’ve been different.
Optimus knew the regret well.
-
“If… if you accept being a Decepticon, what will happen?” Isaac asked, voice quiet and unsure. Optimus was reminded of how Sari looked when she knew she was asking something she wasn’t supposed to. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Optimus.”
“I cannot pretend to be a Decepticon if that’s what you’re asking,” Isaac’s head fell at Optimus’ flat tone. The Autobot leaned back against the wall, looking at the ground. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about it but… “when you become a Decepticon they brand you. It’s not just a symbol but nanites changing your CNA to show you’re a Decepticon in and out. Once you’re accepted into their ranks you forfeit all former ties.” Even if he would tell Ultra Magnus it was under duress it would be the same in the end.
“Oh,” he sounded very small at that, frown wobbling. “Well, it’s better than being dead, isn’t it?”
Optimus found the energy to raise his head to look at the professor, “I will not play Megatron’s game.”
“Right, right, we’ll get out of here our way,” the smile he gave was forced but it still worked, just a little bit, to make him feel better.
-
Optimus held Blitzwing tight the next transfluid donation, arms around their neck and legs around their waist as they thrust into him. His spark pressed against the bounds of his spark chamber seeking relief. Just offlining his optics and imagining they were back at their hiding place where everything felt so much simpler.
Blitzwing peppered his neck with kisses, engine rumbling. “I missed you,” he felt the vibrations through his body as they spoke.
“I missed you more,” Optimus whispered, tilting their head up to kiss their intake. Glossa pressing against the gap in his denta in a silent question.
They opened up to him, letting him closer, though neither attempted to open up their spark chambers this time. Blitzwing shifted position, pulling him up in his lap hilt still buried deep as their arms embraced him back. The tightness soothed his spark until-
Something shattered, a piercing sound that at first Optimus didn’t realize where it came from until Blitzwing pulled away. The clinking of glass shards falling down, they had broken the sirens’ cover.
“Oh,” Optimus said, it didn’t hurt at all, brushing off the little pieces. Likely the force had just been too much and instead of creating big shards that could do damage it just shattered everything as a precaution.
There was a strangled whine, fans kicking up, and looking back he realized Blitzwing had started hyperventilating. “I-I-” they trembled, drawing their arms away, “I didn’t want to- I didn’t realize,” Blitz’s horrified face switched to Wings, his optic wide with despair, “Civilian carriers are fragile, I’m sorry, Sweetspark, we had forgotten. We didn’t mean to hurt you.”
It hit him like a lightning bolt then, Blitzwing didn’t know that they hadn’t hurt him. An old lesson came to mind, a well guarded secret within the Autobots, during the war civilian frame carriers had one last recourse if they were trapped. The pregnancy changed their bodies not just to be able to carry but also to be able to be mangled in such a way the sparkling and carrier would survive. They had the ability to look and be sensed as already dead.
Blitzwing didn’t know, with his rank this could mean there’s a chance Megatron wouldn’t know either.
Optimus could escape.
All he had to do was mangle himself where there was nothing else to do but throw him out like trash as they had with Starscream.
It could be over, it could finally be over. If he escaped he could just say where the mines were and have his team come back later and rescue Sumdac as well.
Blitzwing was shaking, separating himself from Optimus his faceplate wouldn’t stay as he made aborted gestures to pick up the glass that had fallen to the floor. Like he both was trying to put the pieces back together as well as knowing it was no use. “I’m sorry,” they croaked, stopping at last. He could still hear the faceplate spinning.
For his plan to work Blitzwing would have to think he was dead as well as their sparkling. Because Blitzwing was from the war, with how much he wanted the sparkling, he would likely try to save it even if Optimus died. Optimus would have to mangle his abdominal plates enough that the gestational chamber couldn’t be forced open.
The realization came to Optimus and killed the hope he had. It’d break Blitzwing, nothing more to it. “What will you do when I die?”
“Don’t say that,” Blitzwing shrunk, “you won’t.”
“Just… give me an answer, to sate my curiosity,” Optimus conceded.
Blitzwing stayed quiet before answering, speaking slowly like the words hurt, “we’ll- we’ll raise her the best we can. If she’s a flier we’ll teach her how to be able to get off the ground and if she’s a truck… we will… keep her safe from any harm.” They shook their head, “I don’t want to. I don’t know how to raise someone to be like you. What if I overfeed her? What if she’s a civilian frame a-and I don’t know my strength?” He reached again for the shards, unable to pick them up in his big servos, “you’re right, we don’t know how to be anything but a soldier. We don’t know how to be a caretaker.”
Optimus ex-vented, dragging a servo across his faceplate before standing up and walking over to Blitzwing. They flinched when his servo touched their back before they realized he was just rubbing it, an act of comfort. “I’m fine, Blitzwing, you’ll just have to add more glass into the next haul and the self repair will take care of the rest.”
They gave him a quick nod.
He didn’t say they’d be a good parent but when he was brought back to his cell he didn’t fight it. He didn’t think of corners where he could twist his metal or hazardous places to crush his outer layer. Instead Optimus offlined his optics and tried to think of nothing at all.
-
“What was it like raising Sari?” Optimus asked, voice monotone as he stared at nothing.
Isaac briefly stopped his work to look up at him, so much smaller than the Autobot. He looked back at the screen, corners of his lips lifting up in a memory. “It wasn’t easy, she was… a surprise. I’d never thought I’d be a father, robots were really all I had, and then she was there.”
“She’s quite energetic.”
That made the professor laugh. “Always been a handful. Never did have the energy to keep up with it but I tried my best. Sometimes I wonder if it was ever enough,” Isaac frowned, “when you all came to Earth it was the happiest I’d seen her in a while. I will always be grateful to you for being her friends.”
“Sometimes all you can do is your best. You’ve raised a wonderful daughter, Isaac,” Optimus paused as his frown wobbled, “If I don’t make it, if Megatron does good on his threat, will you take my sparkling? I don’t want her anywhere near here, Autobots or Decepticons.”
“And you’ll trust me with that?” Isaac stuttered, “I don’t exactly have a clean record with these things, heavens knows how I’ll mess it up this time.”
Optimus placed a servo on the bars of his cell, forcing a smile, “there’s no one I’d rather want, please, all I want is for her to be a child, not a soldier or a cog. Blitzwing might ensure she’s safe but not that she’ll be happy. Think of it as a favor or Sari getting another playmate- I trust you.”
Isaac sagged, looking older than ever before, “alright, but I hope it’s not a promise I’ll ever need to keep.”
“Thank you, Isaac.”
-
Optimus didn’t feel like a person anymore. All he did was recharge. When Blitzwing next came back he didn’t even register it, only realizing when his intake was pried open to get fuel and protometal inside.
“How are your tanks?” Wings asked with quiet worry.
“Does it matter?” It felt like it was enough to last up until the emergence and after that he wouldn’t need to worry anymore.
He heard the click of a switch and saw Zing narrow his optics before putting on a smile, nuzzling him, “what if it’s just for fun? Take your mind off things?”
“Can’t you just leave me until it’s time?”
“No, I can’t,” he felt their arms under him before they lifted him up into a bridal carry. He didn’t fight it, it felt tiring to even keep his optics open.
In the habsuit Blitzwing opened their spark chamber to him again after putting him down on the berth. “You need the energy.”
“I don’t,” he glared without heat.
“We don’t need to merge again just- please, won’t you fight for me? It’ll have no point if you don’t want it,” Blitzwing begged.
Reluctantly he opened his own, always so disgustingly weak for them. Blitzwing didn’t close the distance, waiting, wings anxiously twitching behind them. With an ex-vent Optimus sat up properly and reached out to them with his spark.
It was just a touch, he felt the charge in his wires lit up at it but keeping true to their words the sparks didn’t merge, he was still himself. Resentfully he realized that they had been right with the assessment he needed the energy, his spark was greedy for theirs. Touching wasn’t quite the same, it was like directly accessing the wires of their frame with his spark. Translating his thoughts into physical pleasure.
Optimus jerked once he realized that he was actively stimulating Blitzwing. Zing’s face was pinched with discomfort but he smiled when he realized Optimus was looking. “It’s fine, Sweetspark, just get everything you need.”
“But- Blitz said it hurt you to overload,” Optimus pulled back but Blitzwing kept him still.
“Pwah, you think he knows what he’s talking about?” Zing grinned, “c’mon, Liebling, bring me to overload. If you can, that is~” they finished with a giggle.
Clear bait he couldn’t help but bite. The anger was better than emptiness as he leaned in and nipped their throat, feeling them hum as his spark continued to reach inside of them. Like he could feel their very being with his servos he reached in and twisted. They jerked with a groan, going limp in his arms while their fans kicked up in encouragement. He stroked their hip and it was intoxicating to realize they were getting charged up without him even needing to open up their modesty panel.
“Ich liebe dich,” Blitzwing said, pressing a kiss to his helm. The surprise made him send more charge, just enough to push Zing over the edge. Instead of a normal overload it came hard, they jerked and spasmed like an electronic malfunction.
Optimus caught them before they could fall off the berth, ventilating as he closed up his spark chamber. Zing’s optics were half lidded and he giggled at Optimus’ worry before his optics went offline.
Optimus dragged them up and realized quickly they were only in recharge. A blown fuse, a simple mistake in the connection between Zing’s faceplate to their processor that caused the overload to burn.
It was his way out.
When he exited to the corridor beyond he felt his spark race but no one was waiting there. Quietly as he could he walked the way Megatron had blocked.
No one.
But light.
His pedes crunched on grass, then gravel, as he walked into the sun. The air was free from moisture and dust. If he transformed and drove off they wouldn’t be able to catch him, extra weight or not. But.
But…
This was planned. Blitzwing as a collective or just Zing had let him go. Megatron would take it as an obvious betrayal.
For a moment he saw Starscream’s broken body at the bottom of that ravine like it was his own memory.
So he opened his comline to his team. “This is Optimus speaking. I and Professor Sumdac have been captured at the Decepticon base in the abandoned mineshaft. They are building a spacebridge so they will not be able to pack up and leave the moment they realize I have contacted you. Watch out as their spark signals are hidden. Please, come quick. And bring my ax.”
Before they could ping his comline with questions he turned back and walked inside on his own two pedes.
-
Blitzwing woke up with a jerk, faceplates spinning before slamming his fist into the ground to stand. Blitz frantically looked around before his gaze landed on Optimus.
“You stayed?” Blitzwing asked, looking at him like he couldn’t trust his optics. Reaching out to caress his cheek, his servo was warm and Optimus leaned in into it despite everything.
“I don’t love you,” Optimus said. Blitzwing’s expression flashed with hurt but they didn’t draw away. Optimus held their servo still, lips brushing against it, offlining his optics, “sometimes I think I hate you. I hate being here, I hate this place, I hate how they treat you. I wish I never met you and yet I am here because if I wasn’t you would be hurt in my place. I care about you so much it’s killing me, can you imagine?” Optimus smiled, “sometimes I forget you’re a Decepticon and I just want to stay in your arms because you’re the only thing that makes any of this seem right. I kept the sparkling because I kept having stupid dreams of maybe this is the one thing of you I could keep with me and it ruined us. I wished I loved you like you love me but I don’t know if I can. I’m sorry for fucking it all up deciding I could be selfish this once.”
Blitzwing pulled him into a hug and Optimus was weak like always because he clutched onto them like a lifeline. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to us,” somehow the confession was more painful than anything else, “we never dreamed of ever being a sire, we thought it’d be impossible, we didn’t expect to love you. Hearing that you were sparked we’ve never been so scared before. I don’t want to lose you, please let us love you.” Blitzwing sucked in air before burying their head in the crook of Optimus’ neck, “even if you think it was all a mistake, thank you for choosing us, I love you.”
“I hate you,” Optimus sobbed, leaning closer like if he tried hard enough he could fuse into them.
“I know.” Blitzwing stroked his helm, not letting go despite his grip around their waist becoming painful, “I love you.”
“I know.”
-
Optimus waited with tension, ready to spring in action at the slightest noise. He knew they’d come for him but his hope had been burned before. This time he’d do it right.
Blitzwing and Isaac seem to take his new strength as him recovering finally and he lets them have their misguided beliefs. Lugnut and Megatron in contrast seem to look at him with narrowed optics but that mattered not, if they knew Blitzwing had given him an opportunity it would come with action as well.
All he had to do was wait and hope that the sparkling had patience unlike her sires. If there was one thing Optimus had learned in this prison was to bide his time.
Cycle by cycle.
-
The sound of tires against ground was music to his audials as the Autobots began their attack. The Decepticons sprung to action with Blitzwing coming to his cage immediately, flaring their wings to obscure him from sight, Optimus almost laughed at the misguided sense of protection.
He could spy Bulkhead ramming the Constructicons to bury them beneath their equipment as the others began their onslaught against the more experienced ‘Cons. Bumblebee, quick on his wheels, transformed into his rote mode throwing his axe at the cell, “catch!”
Blitzwing wacked it to the side before firing at the mini-bot, keeping his optics on the enemy. Not even seeming to consider that Optimus would be able to reach it through the tight bars.
Optimus shot his arm through them, his metal screeching as it deformed to fit through and tearing when he pulled it back in with the axe in servo. Blitzwing turned, alarmed, but when he saw Optimus’ had gotten a weapon his wings lowered. Like it didn’t even enter his mind that Optimus was an enemy.
Optimus used that brief confusion to cut the bars. Jumping out and dodging Blitzwing’s servo as they attempted to grab him, “Optimus!”
Vaulting past everything he used his axe to shatter Isaac’s prison, “Bumblebee, get the professor and get out of here! This is a rescue mission first and foremost.”
“Aye aye, captain!” Bumblebee said and Isaac looked still so shocked that everything was happening that Optimus couldn’t help but feel bad when Bumblebee yoinked him into the driver’s seat.
Blitzwing grabbed him from behind, but when Optimus jolted at them grabbing his dented arm their grip loosened enough he only needed to kick them in the shin to wrench himself away from them.
Wings’ optics were wide with fear and Optimus knew why. The Autobots will never accept you, will never accept our sparkling, he could hear them say as clear as if they’d spoken it. He glared at them in challenge, flourishing his axe.
But they weren’t the biggest threat here, just the only one focusing on him.
Blitzwing isn’t able to hurt him.
He ran to the spacebridge console before they could stop him cleaving the thing down the middle before the tearing metal alerted Megatron what he was doing. The incomplete bridge sparked to life as he pulled his weapon out. A servo clamped around his throat.
“Optimus!” He heard his friends cry as he was lifted up into the air.
“You’ve tried my patience for the last time, Autobot,” Megatron said, voice low, “Lugnut, is the bridge functional?”
“Of course it isn’t!” Bulkhead interjected, “that thing will send any bot anywhere in the galaxy!”
“So it won’t kill them?” Megatron asked with a dangerous smile, “then it shall be a good way to dispose of trash.”
“Don’t!” Blitzwing screamed out as his leader threw Optimus into the gate’s gravitational pull.
Reacting quickly he shot his grappling hook around Megatron, causing the larger mech to stumble as Optimus held on, “Ratchet! Some help here?”
“I got you, Prime!” the old medic said and Optimus could feel the magnetic pull as he fell back to the ground. Tensing he grabbed onto the wire of his grappling hook and pulled- Ratchet realizing what he was doing turned his magnetism onto Megatron, lightening the load just enough that Optimus could swing the warload over. His grapple snapping beneath the weight as the malfunctioning space bridge caught Megatron in its grip.
With a great roar Lugnut tried to reach for his master but the pull was just too strong. With rage in his optics Megatron summoned his sword, throwing it at Optimus.
Blitzwing shot it from its trajectory before they realized what they had done.
The moment Megatron was swallowed up by the bridge it exploded. Shards of the construction embedded into the walls causing the mine’s foundations to crack.
“Autobots, retreat!” Optimus called, trying to transform until Blitzwing grabbed him. His spark sank as the ‘Con yet again tried to pull him away. “Blitzwing, stop.”
The triple changer did so as the cave collapsed around them, shuddering. “You’re right, we should have just ran away; leave everything behind.”
“I can’t,” Optimus said, pulling at their iron grip.
With a click Zing switched in and laughed. “I know,” he said, letting go, his smile wobbled, “I’ll hold us back. Just go, be happy, Optimus.”
Optimus nodded, “thank you.” With that he ran to his team, not turning to look back.
With the familiar hum of his friends beside him they rushed towards the exit, into the daylight and to the beyond.
“No! Come back! Don’t leave us- Optimus!” He heard Blitzwing scream as the tunnel collapsed behind him. He ventilated before pressing on the gas.
He was free.
-
The sparkling is born, pink, grey and purple. On her legs were wheels and on her back wings. When she cries Optimus sees the gap in her denta. There was no denying who the sire was.
Optimus leaned down to bump his helm against hers, still soft and warm. She was a tiny little stranger that was now all his to care for and raise. “I promise you, little one, when you grow up you will be able to be whomever you wish to be. No one will be able to change that.”
She beeped, reached out and grabbed his nose. She didn’t understand but it was alright, she will with time. Her optics were yellow, not Autobot blue or Decepticon red, just her own.