Optimus remembers his brother's expression when he pulled the trigger for years afterward. He remembers the stink of war-torn Chicago, the buzz in the air of the battlefield, the feel of Megatron's cannon in his hand. He remembers shock and betrayal as he squeezes the trigger, remembers feeling the cannon turning dead in his hands.
It is still a weapon. It will always be a weapon. But it was Megatron, and Megatron is dead, and so is it.
So is Cybertron.
"We have no future," he confides in Ratchet in the darkest part of the night.
Ratchet says nothing for a long time. Then, "Arcee has agreed to create younglings with me. I'll produce the first clutch, she'll produce the second. Perhaps you should consider the same."
Optimus looks down at his hands and wonders if he even should. If the line of Primes ended, would it be so bad?
He says nothing of his thoughts to Ratchet, but the medic must have divined them anyway. The very next day, Bumblebee has come to lay siege to him, warbling affection and chirping reassurance, hands soft and-
and-
Optimus wants this.
It is a year before the youngling quickens in him, another two years after that before the egg can be removed. It is a single one, but there is something strange about it. Even in the communal clutch of Ratchet, Arcee, and Sideswipe's eggs, everyone knows precisely which one is his.
Sam is holding his grand-daughter when the egg hatches, the first egg in all the clutch to open and let a youngling tumble out. The youngling tumbles out with a startled cry, and little Cynthia wails until Mikaela takes her away from Sam. Ratchet is already in among the eggs, trying to pick up the youngling to check on it, but it wriggles and twists out of his hands, head turning this way and that.
All Optimus can do is stare. It feels like there is something caught in his lines, like he's saved Cybertron and Earth both, like the first time they made him a ruler and he had no idea what to do-
Brilliant blue optics alight on him, and the youngling warbles in delight and transforms. The red panels on its body align into a sleek red car, fast-looking like Bumblebee, but with his flames in yellow.
The youngling zooms towards him and transforms, landing in front of him with a handspring and a grin. //I'm Hot Rod!//
[TF Bayverse] Optimus Prime/Bumblebee, "Quest to produce a Prime!"
It is still a weapon. It will always be a weapon. But it was Megatron, and Megatron is dead, and so is it.
So is Cybertron.
"We have no future," he confides in Ratchet in the darkest part of the night.
Ratchet says nothing for a long time. Then, "Arcee has agreed to create younglings with me. I'll produce the first clutch, she'll produce the second. Perhaps you should consider the same."
Optimus looks down at his hands and wonders if he even should. If the line of Primes ended, would it be so bad?
He says nothing of his thoughts to Ratchet, but the medic must have divined them anyway. The very next day, Bumblebee has come to lay siege to him, warbling affection and chirping reassurance, hands soft and-
and-
Optimus wants this.
It is a year before the youngling quickens in him, another two years after that before the egg can be removed. It is a single one, but there is something strange about it. Even in the communal clutch of Ratchet, Arcee, and Sideswipe's eggs, everyone knows precisely which one is his.
Sam is holding his grand-daughter when the egg hatches, the first egg in all the clutch to open and let a youngling tumble out. The youngling tumbles out with a startled cry, and little Cynthia wails until Mikaela takes her away from Sam. Ratchet is already in among the eggs, trying to pick up the youngling to check on it, but it wriggles and twists out of his hands, head turning this way and that.
All Optimus can do is stare. It feels like there is something caught in his lines, like he's saved Cybertron and Earth both, like the first time they made him a ruler and he had no idea what to do-
Brilliant blue optics alight on him, and the youngling warbles in delight and transforms. The red panels on its body align into a sleek red car, fast-looking like Bumblebee, but with his flames in yellow.
The youngling zooms towards him and transforms, landing in front of him with a handspring and a grin. //I'm Hot Rod!//