Those Left Behind

Crickets, Optimus thought at the chirping noise, or possibly locusts. While he generally found the planet's biology fascinating, he didn't particularly care at the moment. Despite the ruckus in the warehouse behind him, the night was quiet, and Optimus intended to take advantage of it.

It wasn't often that Optimus Prime had time to himself, although as life settled on this new planet it became more common. It still felt like a luxury. Even before the war he had rarely had much in the way of free time. Governing Cybertron had taken up most of his time, even with the help of excellent advisers and liaisons, and the help of his brother.

Megatron. The human name did him little justice. It wasn't hard enough or cold enough. It didn't encompass the extent of his vast intellect, or his seemingly endless capacity for cruelty, and no name could ever truly express the depths of madness into which he had fallen.

And yet, Optimus mourned him still.

His death had been necessary, and in all truth inevitable. If he had not been destroyed by them, his own madness would have been the end of him, and he would have taken countless others with him. It had to be done. The war had to end. Optimus knew all of this.

But all the knowledge and understanding in the universe could do nothing to ease the ache of loosing his brother. There was nothing accidental about being siblings among Cybertronians; they were no mere trick of biology. They chose each other, and once the bond was made, it couldn't be unmade.

Optimus had been mourning Megatron long before his death. He had missed the leader he had been, the protector who had ruled justly by his side, the one who had always strove to find a path to a better future. He had missed the brother who had told him he worked too hard, and reassured him of his choices when the path became uncertain. All that missing though, couldn't compare to the emptiness his death had left behind.

The approaching footsteps didn't startle him, nor did he have to put much effort into identifying his visitor. Few Autobots had a tread as light as Bumblebee's. He couldn't quite place the source of the sudden anger that flared in him at the thought of having company, and dismissed it as irrational.

In any case, Bumblebee probably wasn't looking for company. The children were entertaining the rest of his team with a movie night, but Bumblebee had excused himself, claiming that he had already seen the movies Sam and Mikaela had selected and he disliked picking popcorn kernels out from under his armor, which sounded itchy if nothing else. Instead, Bumblebee had gone to check the perimeter sensors he had installed the last time he had been there. This was, most likely, the end of his loop.

"Hey." Bumblebee came to stand beside where Optimus was sitting, his feet making barely a sound in the wet grass.

Optimus nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing. He didn't want company and he found himself resenting the interruption of his brooding. He had known Bumblebee long enough to know that he would take the hint without offense.

Apparently, Bumblebee had known him long enough to know when not to take a hint. He stood in silence by Optimus' side looking up at the sky as if he could see the stars through the cloud cover.

"It doesn't actually get any better." Bumblebee said after a moment.

Optimus started and looked up at him. While no one on his team would have begrudged him his mourning, it was Bumblebee, who had lost his sister in the first week of fighting, who would understand it best. Bumblebee was also the last person Optimus would have expected to say anything. He never talked about his sister, even in allusion.

Bumblebee stood still, as if he had never spoken, waiting patiently for his response. With a soft sigh Optimus reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him down beside him.

"It can't stay like this." Optimus denied.

"It does." Bumblebee leaned back on his hands. "You get better at coping with it, but the hurt stays the same."

Optimus glanced sidelong at his companion, wishing he could deny it, but suspecting it was true. Bumblebee had worked as a courier for him for centuries before the war, and Optimus counted him among his close friends. There was little chance he was exaggerating. Optimus knew how much Bumblebee had changed after his sister's death.

Aspects of his personality that had once seemed fundamental faded. He had even lost one of the primary reasons for his current nickname, which was a designation he had born long before Optimus had ever met him. In Cybertronian his nickname included the connotation of talking very quickly. The meaning was somewhat lost in the English equivalency Bumblebee had selected, but remained faintly there. Before the war, Bumblebee had been notorious for talking so fast when he was excited or upset that they could barely understand him.

For months after his sister's death he hadn't spoken at all. These days no one would have accused Bumblebee of being quiet, but he certainly didn't talk as much as he had before.

"Are you happy on this planet?" Optimus asked.

"As happy as I'll be anywhere." Bumblebee made a small clicking noise, an expression that fell somewhere between annoyance and amusement at the change of subject. "I like this planet. It has potential."

"Potential?" Optimus raised an optic ridge.

"You think so too, or we wouldn't be staying." Bumblebee shrugged.

"It's our fault this planet was pulled into the war. It's our responsibility to protect it." Optimus reminded him, though it was unlikely he had forgotten.

"There are other ways to do that." Bumblebee pointed out. "Humans are capable of change. Slow at it, but capable." He finally dropped his eyes from the cloudy sky, and used a finger to gently brush a grasshopper off his shin. "They can learn a lot from us, but we can learn a lot from them too. As a race, they're resilient in ways we aren't."

Optimus considered that for a few moments. "So they are."

"Are you coming in? I doubt they've started the second movie yet." Bumblebee stood, stretching his arms above his head.

"No," Optimus shook his head. "The quiet is nice."

"Don't brood." Bumblebee nudged at his knee lightly with his foot as he turned to go. "It makes it worse."

Optimus listened to the soft footsteps walk away from him, and stared up at the starless sky, then stood abruptly.

"Bumblebee."

The smaller Autobot turned at his name, waiting for Optimus to catch up.

"What are they watching?" Optimus asked as they turned and walked towards the warehouse together.