A/N: For Yana. She knows what was the occasion :-)
Disclaimer: only interpretation is mine.
No reason to cry
BW. After Dinobot's death, Optimus seems unable to find a reason to mourn his demise. Warning for slash and less than perfect relationship.
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Dinobot was a difficult bot to live with. Primus only knew how he managed to forge a strange kind of friendship between himself and Rattrap. Optimus Primal sure didn't. For him, the relationship with the raptor was a constant power struggle. Ever since they had met in a melee on the narrow stone bridge, through the string of small and big betrayals, their beads scattered across the string of time they spend on Earth, up to the point when Dinobot finally defied a direct order, and went to get himself killed.
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Optimus watched the spark rising from the now inert body, his mind and spark completely blank - no thoughts, no emotions. Over two years he'd known the warrior, and yet he could not rouse himself to feel anything at his death, couldn't even think of anything to say, his processor numb. He heard himself saying some lame line about hero's death, and wondered where did that come from. Wasn't it something Dinobot once said? He couldn't remember.
The silence drew out, thick with others grief and his indifference, until Cheetor's voice, quiet and uncertain, underlined it: "Should we take him home? Optimus?"
He nodded, putting a comforting arm on the young bot's shoulders, and Cheetor leaned into the touch.
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Cheetor was young, reckless, and impulsive, so when he rebelled and went into the storm, got himself teleported back and forth few times and, in the end, saved both bases from fiery demise, Optimus at first didn't think of blaming anyone but the cat - and maybe himself - for the events. But there was something in the smile and remark about 'being perfect' that Cheetor threw at Dinobot, and the way the raptor looked away, that suggested some conversation Optimus wasn't aware of. That left him thinking... and suspicious.
And later, when in the whole mess with an alien probe and his own disappearance, Cheetor voted for Dinobot (really, with only four voters the 'secret' ballot was a joke), the suspicion turned into an ugly certainty.
It was a Predacon way, to strike at the vulnerable targets, and what could be more prone than a young mind, still learning and seeking acceptance? The teen-bot was always looking up to the older crew members, it probably hadn't taken much to use his enthusiasm to the ex-Predacon's own ends. Dinobot was manipulating the kid, and doing this, he was slowly shaping his mindset into that of a Predacon.
Dinobot didn't bother denying when the Maximal leader confronted him about it.
"You have no right to decide what his views on life should be, Optimus," he snarled, red optics punctuating a gloom of cargo bay. And in a voice almost equally harsh, Primal said that yes, he had that right, because Cheetor was like a son to him, he was one of his crew, he was his responsibility, and Optimus was his commander, and unless Dinobot wanted to challenge him again...
At this point he realized that they were both holding swords, both wary, both crouched in a fighting stance. They both stroke at the same time.
There was a simplicity in the fight, a diplomatic language impossible to misinterpret.
Strike/Block
You will yield./I will not.
It wasn't a spectacular fight, and not a long one. It should have been, but it wasn't.
Their swords, their techniques, their experiences - they were all different, and pretty much balanced the chances out. Optimus won by the familiarity with the surroundings. He knew his ship, he knew where to seek an advantage, and all too fast Dinobot was leaning awkwardly back against a sloping crate, one of Primal's swords over his throat, the other pressing at his abdomen.
And still those optics glared back defiantly, refusing Optimus his victory - he could only found it in the kill; backing away would be seen as a weakness, and he knew this. But even half crazed with rage, with his fluids rushing from the fight, Optimus couldn't bring himself to a murder. So instead he leaned close, pressing against the tensed warrior, and claimed his spark as his own, demonstrating in the most intimate way, who was the boss here.
And surprisingly, Dinobot yielded, their swords lying forgotten on the floor.
At least, Optimus thought later, pushing the memory away like a bad dream, it brought the Predacon back in line for a time. But in the longer terms, it didn't mean anything.
It was just a power struggle. Nothing more.
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As he flew toward Axalon with a dead shell in his arms, Optimus pondered at his own numbness. Why was it that he didn't feel anything? He looked down at the expressionless blue face, as if seeking answer there, but found none. Not that it was unusual; the warrior never had a habit of making his life any easier. To be honest, most of the times they talked, it was for Dinobot to point out Primal's mistakes and to emphasize how much better a commander he would be.
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Jumping off flying mountains is not only crazy - it's also unhealthy. Dinobot said as much, though in much more sophisticated words, as he busied himself with pushing Optimus's dislocated joints and hinges back in place. "... not necessary to go to such extreme measures."
"Wasn't it? There wasn't any OTHER way to get out of there alive."
"Mmm. I do not doubt that. I was merely saying, that, had you not returned, I would have taken the responsibility of leading Maximals in your stead."
"This is so very reassuring, Dinobot. Next time I'm wounded or trapped, I'll just lie down and die, leaving everything in your capable hands. Ow!" The 'capable hands' wrung the last misshaped joint, and Dinobot stepped back. "I shall await this moment," he said, his tone of voice somewhere between seriousness and mockery.
And the insolent lizard actually had the nerve to pick at this little conversation few days later. If it weren't for the pain in his damaged chestplate, Optimus would have laughed, as above him the warrior, in an overdramatic voice, launched into a tirade about his funeral.
Biting his lip to hold the amusement at bay, Primal pushed himself up. "I'm afraid I'll have to miss it. I'm not scrapped yet," he grunted, and the warrior had a decency not to look disappointed - there even was a faintest trace of amusement in his voice when he asked if Optimus was certain of it.
Poor Cheetor didn't get the joke, (well, how could he?) and was rather upset by the whole exchange.
But, as he was lifted off the ground by a powerful claws, and was granted a momentary glimpse into warrior's optics, Optimus mused that, perhaps, it was a good thing that the young bot was present. Though on the other hand... No. No, Dinobot was a comrade, a teammate. Nothing more.
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An insistent beeping sounded, and it took Optimus a moment to realize it was coming from his own comlink. He shrugged awkwardly to activate it, a dead weight in his arms preventing him from tapping it. "Optimus here."
:: "Yer goin' off course, Fearless Leader." :: There was no usual cheekiness in Rattrap's voice, the nickname sounding almost accusingly in Primal's audios. Some leader he'd been.
His optics flickered in a surprised blink, as he registered the rat's words, and realized that he had indeed let the wind push him few points north. What was he thinking?
"I... I'm sorry. I was distracted."
:: "Ain't we all? was a tired response." ::
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Blast Terrorsaur for being such a good diversion. Before they knew it, the Predacons were swarming all over the place, shooting at them, and, more importantly, at the signal array - their precious passage home. Trying to reason with Megatron only earned Optimus a snarl from Dinobot - diplomacy was a waste of time in warrior's book. Sending the ex-predacon an annoyed glance, Primal concentrated on defending the tower.
The next time he looked, Rattrap was kneeling beside fallen Dinobot, his hand on raptor's shoulder.
Well. Those two certainly weren't friends, more of the opposite, but the small bot was extremely protective of any last one member of the team. This rare exposure of his more sensitive side would go to any wounded Maximal. Optimus understood that perfectly well. Moreover, he never was a possessive type of a bot.
Also, there was nothing to be possessive of.
Therefore, he didn't experience even the slightest ping of jealousy at the sight. He also didn't feel any misplaced hints of glee, when a moment later the rat was forced into a beast mode and blasted away. He didn't spare the duo the second thought until after the battle.
The Maximals were standing in a small, depressed semicircle, looking at the sad remains of the destroyed signal array, when Cheetor suddenly looked around with a baffled, and slightly worried expression.
"Where's Dinobot?"
Rattrap sniffed haughtily. "Probably off ta celebrate in peace. Hey, ya know he didn't want us ta win!" he added defensively at the collective stare.
Optimus just sighed quietly. "I'll look for him, you all return to Axalon," he ordered.
When he and the strayed raptor finally showed up few mega-cycles later, Rhinox was just about ready to send a search party for them. Well, Dinobot, as Optimus explained, was a difficult bot to find. Which was true of course...
...Plus, the whole day had been trying, more so than usual, what with his hopes of getting back home going up and down like a roller coaster. Primal was thoroughly distraught, and needed some kind of relief.
That's what it was. A stress relief. Nothing more.
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As he approached the battered hull of Axalon, Optimus suddenly realized there was a stunning resemblance between the two shells before his optics.
He hadn't been thinking about it for a long time now, but with the very thing that made the ship alive - its engines - gone beyond revival, Axalon was just as dead as Dinobot.
The grind of lift's piston's echoed in the empty control room, as Optimus entered.
A dead warrior in a dead ship. Maybe they should just seal the entrance and set the whole thing on fire. Wouldn't that be the most triumphant passage?
Primal's shoulders shook in a short bark of laughter, as he laid the inert body on one of consoles. Something cracked under the weight, but it didn't matter. This console had been dead since Megatron's weapon shattered it, that day when Axalon flew for the last time.
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"What are you saying, Dinobot? You will not return with us to Cybertron?"
"No." It was such a simple word. It didn't hit him like a hammer between the optics. It really didn't. And his voice box didn't short in a funny way, when he said a quiet: "I understand," after the raptor explained his reasons. And slipping into a 'dutiful commander' role had never been easier. "Nonetheless, let the record show that I advise against this action," he said, almost casually. After all, he had no reason to care if the warrior's decision would lead to his destruction or not. He was absolutely calm when Dinobot disappeared in the lift. Calm as the space.
"All systems checked," Rhinox announced, the excitement evident in his voice.
Optimus searched the screens and radars for the last time, and nodded.
"Let's do it."
No point in lingering here.
The powerful engines roared to life, shaking his frame and clearing his mind in the most refreshing way. He shut off his optics gratefully, listening as his ship sang to him. He'd almost forgot how it felt to be a captain of a spacecraft.
Soon he'd be back on Cybertron, and then on another exploration mission.
Soon, the Predacons, this planet, and Dinobot would become just a foggy memory, nothing more.
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Optimus looked around the control room a little lost, not sure what his next action should be. "Optimus?" a deep voice uttered quietly behind him, and Primal shook himself off.
"Could you prepare the recycler, Rhinox?" he asked in almost casual voice.
There was a brief silence, before the technician said: "Of course," and moved toward the holds. He paused in a doorway for a long moment.
"I wish we could have been there earlier," he said eventually, and left.
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"You were a little late this time, Optimus," Rhinox said, beaming proudly at the young femme at his side. "Fortunately Airazor took care of business."
Optimus smiled his thanks, glancing briefly across the room, where the cause of his lateness was very pointedly not looking at him. He was absolutely sure that the next time they talked, he would get an audio-full of 'a good leader does not let himself be distracted'.
That's what the warrior was, anyway. An irritating distraction. Nothing more.
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Optimus sank into an armchair in his quarters. Primus, was he tired. Dinobot's distress call had come at the sunset, and the night was almost over now. Optimus turned his head slightly to look through the window. Rhinox and Silverbolt were setting up the recycler near the cliff edge. They should be done soon, maybe just in time for the sunrise. Optimus turned his head back and looked around the room.
Something was amiss. He was sure his quarters was just as it was when he'd last left it, but still it felt wrong. Was it always this big and empty?
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"I don't believe it, Rattrap. I was only gone for a day."
"Ah, gimme a break," the small bot grumbled, gathering all his stuff into a box.
"You were hit by a quantum surge, attacked, went through repairs and was attacked again." Optimus ticked off the distractions on his fingers. "When did you even find time to move in? Not to mention creating a mess!"
"Get offa my back already, Pop-Op! I was brought up on a 'first come, first served' world, awright?" The small bot was clearly embarrassed. "Some habits are hard ta break, ya know?"
Optimus shook his head with a smile, carrying the potted flower back to its rightful place. At least the rat hadn't damaged it. If he had, there'd be the Pit to pay.
"Why do ya keep dat bush around anyway?" Rattrap asked, looking up from his things. Before Primal could answer, there was a snarl from the doorway. "You should restrain your disrespectful mouth around this plant, rodent. It takes offence easily."
"Oh, yea?" Rattrap turned to his nemesis with a sneer. "And what's it gonna do, shed leaves on me?"
As if on cue, one of flower's steams went 'prrrflt', and the small bot danced in place, trying to take a look at his own backplate. "Hey! What's dat? Take it off!"
Optimus laughed and laughed, while Dinobot grudgingly relieved Rattrap of the seed and herded him out of the room.
Once the bots' footsteps died away, so did Optimus's laughter. He went to the vast window and leaned on it heavily. It was opaque from the outside, he didn't have to worry that anyone would see him like this. He thought he was doing pretty well, but now, left alone, he realized it was not so.
Fear, light, pain, darkness...
He shut off his optics and shuddered slightly.
"I hadn't realized it would survive for so long."
Optimus jumped, half turning, optics wide.
Dinobot traced one of plant's leaves with clawed fingers, and looked up at Optimus impassively.
The silence went on a bit longer than was comfortable. Optimus had been informed of the attempted takeover that Rhinox had thwarted. He couldn't even turn his back for half a second without Dinobot trying something. Somewhat tiring after a while...
"I take a good care of it," Optimus finally said, turning back to the view. Behind his back, the ex-Predacon moved, his footsteps almost inaudible. Optimus watched his silhouette reflected in the plexiglas before him, as the warrior came to a halt half a pace to the left and one behind. A self-appointed second-in-command's position.
Primal's optics were locked on the setting sun.
Could he trust Dinobot?
"Is something troubling you, Optimus?"
Pit, no. To expose a weakness was like asking for a sword in the back. Nevertheless...
"Dying... was a truly dreadful experience, Dinobot," he said quietly, wincing at the ridiculous understatement. He let out a shuddering sigh. "And... coming back... felt even worse."
Dinobot didn't comment. But he took that half a step to the right and forward, and Optimus leaned back into him gratefully.
Just a one-night's comfort. Nothing more.
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The lock on Dinobot's door had been hacked. Optimus's hand hung over the overridden lock, and he frowned.
"You should work on this 'breaking into dead people's rooms' thing, Rattrap," he said calmly, pushing the door open.
Rattrap shrugged. "Will try an remember dat." He was taking a striped pelt off the wall. "Watcha think, Pop-Op? Ya know how he always went on about how a warrior takes his enemies with him... We don't have any Megatron's heads available, but he'd beat dat clone in fight, so I thought..." The small bot looked at the piece of leather in his hands, and shook his head. "Nah, wasn't really thinkin'. Dat's stupid." He made a gesture as if to throw the pelt away. Optimus stopped him.
"Actually, I think he'd appreciate it." He looked around the empty, empty room. "Come on, I think Rhinox is done. Let's go."
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"You said you had something important to discuss." Optimus leaned against the wall of Dinobot's quarters.
"Indeed." The warrior was standing in perfect reporting stand - hands clasp behind his back, and his optics fixed on a wall somewhere behind Optimus's back. His gaze didn't weaver for a moment, as he reported returning the Golden Disk to the Megatron, the perils that could arouse, and his own motives. "To eliminate the whole race before it even existed would be a great victory for Predacons. I wanted a share in this victory."
It took Optimus a moment to realize that Dinobot wasn't going to say anything more.
"But you came back," he said, pretty much stating the obvious.
Dinobot's gaze dropped. "Perhaps I decided the price was too high."
"I see" Optimus rubbed his forehead. Too many nasty surprises in just one day. "I should hang your pelt next to this one," he said, jerking his chin toward Dinobot's trophy. The warrior gave a little growl, perhaps not entirely sure whether his leader was joking or not.
To be honest, Optimus wasn't so sure himself. He looked Dinobot up and down, wondering what to say, and his optics flashed suddenly. He walked up to the warrior and picked up a tiny chip of purple paint off his shoulder.
"Let me guess," he said lightly. "Megatron demanded a proof of your loyalty."
Dinobot's optics flickered to the speck of color on Optimus's finger.
"Perhaps," he said impassively.
Optimus brushed the incriminating paint scrap off dispassionately. He didn't care. Not at all. It wasn't personal.
Not when his optics narrowed, not when he pushed Dinobot to the wall, not when he reclaimed his warrior in a hustle of frantic movements.
It was just a matter of loyalty. Nothing more.
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They put Dinobot's body on the recycler along with his sword and the rolled pelt of his long forgotten clone.
The sun was rising above the ocean, when Optimus called Cheetor and Silverbolt to him.
Sunset to sunrise, he thought. It took me almost all night to get there and back. To locate that place, he had to be gone for entire day.
Optimus gestured to the flyers and lead them over the ocean.
I hadn't checked on my people for a whole day. I should have.
"The 'man missing' formation," he ordered, and Silverbolt swerved to the left. There are some things every flyer knows instinctively. Or maybe it's a part of programming.
They flew back toward the gloomy form of recycler.
Had I been a better commander...
The low hum of energy consuming the shell filled the air.
...he might be still alive.
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Optimus landed on the very edge of the cliff. Down below the river streamed, eager to join the ocean. Primal's lips twitched, as he recognized the place. The wind, rain and time had long ago removed any sings of a battle, but Dinobot's burial place was the same place where the Maximals saw him for the first time. Whether Rhinox did it on purpose, accidentally, or subconsciously, was anyone's guess.
If he looked hard enough, Optimus could still make out the small outcroppings where the narrow bridge had been.
"The winner shall lead the Maximals, and the loser shall be destroyed."
Optimus rubbed his forehead with a weary sigh. He didn't need the memories. He didn't want those memories. Dinobot had been a constant headache, nothing more. He didn't feel relieved to be freed of him, of course, but there certainly were no feelings lost.
Pushing aside the tiredness and slipping easily into the 'caring leader' mode, Optimus comforted Cheetor, said few words to Rattrap, nodded to Rhinox and smiled sadly at Silverbolt.
He helped with dismantling the recycler, made sure there were no threats from the Predacons, and gave everyone a day off.
Then he went to his quarters, locked the door, and shut off his vocalizer so that nobody could hear his cry.
fin