Chapter Text
Coming into existence was a memory best buried. But for Optimus, the memory was too important to forget.
When he came into existence, the base memory implanted in the processor of every Cybertronian told him in what state their home planet was in. Eighty per cent of it a barren wasteland, bleak, rotten and devoid of life. Cybertron had enough energy to ignite sparks but not the resources to give them frames, and with that, any chance of survival.
Optimus had been lucky, though – His spark had ignited in a place that had enough material to form a functional frame.
However, it did not have enough for his spark brother.
Coming into existence on a half-dead planet was a painful experience. It wasn’t physical pain, however – It was the pain of solitude.
When Optimus came to, he was alone.
He was confused, scared, and overwhelmed but had no one to comfort him. No explanation, no one to hold his hand, nothing but the knowledge set in his processor. And he had to calm down first before he could even think about them, which was an almost impossible task.
He heard no sound but distant howls. Saw nothing but the grey sky and the black ground he sat on and smelled nothing but foulness. The ground felt hard and porous, with a cold touch that sucked all warmth out of his frame.
Optimus himself felt…undone. He had a feeling he was supposed to feel different. Satiated, safe and secure. This deep cold felt horrible and wrong, despite not even knowing what genuine warmth was. Something was missing from him, and he got the idea that it was fuel; A substance called Energon. But he saw nothing around him that could be fuel.
Everything around him was just a bleak desert with a few dead trees.
Optimus couldn’t tell how he felt. Hollow. Horrid. Harrowed. He wanted to live but didn’t know if he could. Everything that his processor told him he needed – fuel, company, security – was nowhere in sight.
He was just born into existent but felt like he would die right after.
Optimus closed his eyes and laid down, trying to process his short existence. Wondering if he had any chance of survival or if getting up and trying to find fuel would just prolong his soon to come death.
But amidst all that hollow despair, he felt something else. Something foreign that didn’t seem to come from him.
He opened his eyes again and looked around himself once more, trying to find something in the grey and black wasteland. Then he saw a blue light.
The ground was full of creaks and holes, and out of one of them, a blue light shone through. And the more Optimus focused on it, the stronger this foreign feeling became.
For the first time, Optimus got up on his feet. His first steps were shaky and slow, but soon he managed to walk in a straight line towards the blue light. And the nearer he came, the stronger the foreign feeling became until he was able to feel what emotion it was.
Distress.
But it wasn’t his distress. He felt it, but it came from the light. When he finally arrived at the creak with the light, he kneeled to see what caused it.
Optimus knew what it was the moment he laid eyes on it – A spark.
Instinctively, he touched his chest, where his own spark started pulsing hard and fast. And to his surprise, the spark underneath him did the same.
It pulsed uncontrollably, and the distress coming from it became more intense. But Optimus felt in that moment that it wasn’t just distress, it was a call for help, and Optimus knew he had to get the spark out of its small prison.
Optimus knew that sparks were the life source of every Cybertronian and needed to be handle with delicacy and care, so he tried his best to put his hands around the spark and heave it outside the creak with as little force as possible.
When he got it out of the creak, he got up and held it close to his chest.
The spark was cold inside the creak, but it slowly warmed up inside his palms – the first warmth Optimus felt. And the distress slowly ebbed away together with the cold until the spark’s pulsing went from erratic to calm. The warmth increased in that time and warmed up Optimus entire upper frame.
But Optimus didn’t just feel a physical warmth, no; He also felt his own spark warming up and soothing the hollow despair inside his mind.
At some point, Optimus kneeled again, still holding the spark close to him. In that time, he could think clearly and remember what- who this spark belonged to.
Optimus didn’t have a name for him, but he knew the spark belonged to his spark brother – a spark that split away from his. Or his split away from his brother’s.
Slowly, Optimus moved his palms away to look at the spark again. It looked serene and peaceful; it was completely different from how it looked when Optimus saw it back in the creak.
Optimus knew it – The spark lived.
He had to think back at the earlier knowledge – The planet ignited sparks from time to time like it always did, but because it wasn’t able to create frames for all, most of them extinguished.
Optimus looked around again – He could hardly believe this bleak wasteland had enough resources to build a frame for him. No way would it have been able to give a frame to his spark brother as well.
Looking back at the spark in his palm, shining brightly and pulsing with life, Optimus started to despair again.
Would his spark brother extinguish as well?
How long did he have to live?
Optimus thought he’d lose his brother before he even got to know him.
He didn’t know he was shedding tears until they evaporated after coming into contact with the spark in his palm, and he watched the little puffs of steam fade to nothing.
Then the spark started pulsing again.
Optimus felt alarmed for a moment, thinking that something terrible would happen. But unlike before, the pulsing didn’t come with a feeling of distress. Instead, Optimus felt the spark calling to him. The feeling was melancholy but eager.
Optimus wasn’t sure what he should do and stood still for a moment, watching the spark continue pulsing at a fast but steady pace. He felt himself reacting to it, felt the longing and call from the spark in his chest and the spark in his palms.
He moved the spark back to his chest and felt a comforting calm once again, coming from the spark. The pulses from the spark moved towards and inside his own chest to soothe his own.
Just like Optimus had comforted his spark brother before, his spark brother offered comfort to him.
Despite the comfort he received, more tears started to fall.
His spark brother was alive. He could feel and react to Optimus. But how could it survive without a frame? How could Optimus keep it safe?
The sky turned as black as the ground before Optimus moved his palms away from his chest again.
And what he saw mesmerised him – The spark shone in a brighter and fuller colour than when he found it. He thought for a moment it was because it got darker around him, but the spark also felt firmer and even a little heavier than before.
He also felt his own growing weakness – He had more trouble standing up than he had the last time. He felt dizzy, and his stomach area hurt; From his knowledge, he knew that this ache was hunger.
More knowledge came up in his processor. Knowledge about split-sparks and the unique connection they have. That since they used to be one, they can exchange their energy.
Optimus thought that he just did that. He gave part of his own spark energy to his brother.
A ray of hope lit up from deep inside of him. He could keep spark brother alive!
And he remembered that not all of Cybertron was a wasteland like this – at least twenty per cent still had resources. If he managed to get to such a place, the planet would give his spark brother a frame.
Optimus started walking but was faced with a crucial problem.
He couldn’t keep his spark brother alive if he had no energy left.
He kept walking in the direction of where he heard howls from. His steps were slow and heavy, and his arms got sore from holding the spark to his chest. He tried not to keep it too close to his own spark to not give it more energy by accident.
He could tell that the howls came from living creatures. He didn’t know which – they seemed to be alien – but he knew they were alive.
And if they were alive, it meant they had the means to survive. And whatever that was, Optimus would be able to find it.
He’d keep himself fuelled and alive by any means. That way, he could keep his spark brother alive until he found a place that could give him a frame.
Optimus transformed and drove away with a determination to fulfil his wish to meet his brother.