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The base was winding down as the day was coming to an end. The sun was setting and the children were returned to their homes, it was a school night after all. With a final goodbye Arcee drove off with Jack while Ratchet let out a huff of acknowledgment in return. Optimus, who stood next to him, also gave a curt nod before quickly returning to the main console and his task at hand. Ratchet watched the retreating Prime with concern. Optimus had never been the most expressive of mechs, even as Orion Pax he was never one to, in human terms, "wear his heart on his sleeves". However, ever since Optimus returned to them after the incident with Unicron, he was even more reclusive than ever.
Whereas before he would occasionally refuel with the team or look at them with a fondness in his optics, now he wore a stoic mask constantly even outside of battle and seemed to barely do anything to aside from missions and decoding Project Iacon. To anyone else this may have just been chucked up to Prime being focused, this was a rather time sensitive mission. But to Ratchet it was quickly becoming very concerning. He wasn't even sure if Optimus was refueling or recharging regularly, their ever stoic leader could be heard tapping away on the keyboard late into the night long after the rest of Team Prime retired to their berths. Ratchet narrowed his optics watching Optimus blankly work. What exactly had Megatron done on that ship? What had he done to Optimus to make him even more closed off than he already was?
Ratchet dully noted how close the leader's E.M field was to himself, making it nearly nonexistent. Worry filled him as the medic's processor ran a mile a minute trying to figure out what the root cause of this new development could be. A frustrated grunt pulled him out of his thoughts. Ratchet watched intently as Optimus grasped at his left servo. Quiet clinking betraying the small tremors the leader tried to suppress.
"Optimus are you alright?" Ratchet asked with growing concern.
"There is no need to worry, old friend," Optimus replied evenly.
He continued to hold his servo, attempting to will it into stop shaking. After a few moments the shaking calmed but the servo continued to flinch slightly. Seeing that this was the best he was going to get, Optimus continued to work.
"When was the last time you refueled?" Ratchet continued.
"Like I said, there is no need to worry," Optimus replied again, his voice remained unchanged.
"Optimus! I'm being serious here!" Ratchet snapped.
"As am I, and as a Prime I ask that you do not bring this up again," Optimus nearly snapped with an unexpected coldness.
Ratchet paused and looked at him with widening optics. He let out a shocked huff.
"Are you.. are you seriously trying to pull rank on me now?" Ratchet approached the Prime, "Well then, as your CMO I am ordering you to get your aft into med bay for an evaluation. My word trumps Primely rank for medical matters."
The two bots stared each other down. Ratchet crossed his arms and squinted his optics in challenge. Optimus merely stared down at the medic with a straight posture. Both were stubborn when they wanted to be and Optimus was a notoriously awful patient who avoided the medical berth like the Cybonic Plague, Ratchet was ready to stand his ground. So when the leader wordlessly turned around and walked towards the med bay, to say it caught the medic off guard would've been an understatement. This change in personality did little to soothe the growing apprehension. Following closely behind, Ratchet grew anxious for whatever was causing Optimus to act this way.
..........
"Now, answer my question, did you or did you not refuel today?" Ratchet put on his professional voice, wasting no time as he mentally went through the list of tests and questions he would have to ask.
"I have taken the required amount of energon for the day," Optimus replied.
"Any injuries I should be made aware about?"
"Negative."
"And you're not lying?"
"I am telling the truth."
Ratchet looked over the Prime, poking and prodding as he continued with the tests. The two barely spoke a word as the awkward silence stretched on. Minor concerning details showed through out the tests, clear signs of overexertion, stiff joints, and plethora of otherwise unimportant issues popped ip during scans. Individually these could be easily remedied but together, they were not painting a good picture. Optimus was truthful when he said that he had refueled for the day and that he hadn't sported any big injuries. But there was something was off and Ratchet needed to know.
"Physically everything seems to be in mostly working order," Ratchet concluded at last, "But your emergency stores are dangerously low. Along with a multitude of other maintenance protocols you've neglected. You need to refuel more than just the bare minimum you know this!" Ratchet scolded. Optimus did not even have the decency to look ashamed, he continued to stare impassively at the medic.
"I have taken the required amount of energon for the day, Ratchet. We are also in the middle of a war, rationing is required," Optimus retorted, speaking in a way that made it sound like it was the most logical thing in the world.
"Optimus we have enough energon to refuel multiple times a day for at least a couple more months!" Ratchet nearly shouted, the medic brought a servo to his temple, "Look, what this tells me is that you haven't been refueling regularly, not to mention the HUD notifications you must have been getting. Considering the work you've been doing it can be inconvenient at best and dangerous at worst. You're not a newly forged I shouldn't have to tell you this," he continued to scold.
Optimus gave a curt nod in acknowledgement. Ratchet gave a sigh before looking at the data pad in his servos.
"If that is all, am I free to leave?" Optimus asked while starting to stand. Ratchet scoffed, there it was, the medic was prepared for something like this considering their leader's tendency to be an awful patient. Well, Prime wasn't going to weasel his way out of this one
"Hep hep hep, one last question, then you can go," Ratchet pushed Optimus back onto the berth, forcing the mech to sit back down.
Optimus complied silently. Shock made Ratchet pause, he was being... compliant? His brows furrowed as he contemplated how to approach this. Optimus' uncharacteristic obedience made him unsure of what to do next.
"How are you doing..?" Ratchet finally asked, wincing at the stilted tone.
"Scans indicate that there is nothing that required immediate medical attention. Like you stated previously, 'everything seems to be in working order,'" Optimus recounted.
"No, I mean," Ratchet sighed, he wasn't sure how to approach this subject.
"Optimus, there is... another reason I brought you in here today," Ratchet admitted hesitantly.
This finally got some reaction from the Prime, his optics widened slightly.
"I'll speak plainly, I'm worried about you. You've been withdrawn, silent, and don't think I haven't noticed how late you've been working ever since you've come back to us," Ratchet quickly pushed out.
"I was under the impression I was already all of those things even prior to the incident with the Chaos Bringer," Optimus stated like fact.
"Stoic yes, you are focused and not the most expressive mech but not like this, never like this. You don't talk to the team unless it's completely necessary anymore and all you do is work and recharge! And even that's debatable since I haven't even seen you go back to your berthroom in weeks! Even Soundwave wouldn't work himself this hard!" Ratchet bursted out, pent up emotions cascading out of the mech.
Ratchet took in a deep vent and offlined his optics. His clenched servos shook. With a sigh, Ratchet onlined his optics and looked tiredly at the Prime who stared back.
"What happened on that ship? I know you said you don't remember but you worry me. Optimus tell me what's wrong," Ratchet pleaded.
The med bay was silent, Optimus was at a loss for words. He opened his intake before closing it unsure of what to say. Quietly, Ratchet approached him before pulling a crate nearby to sit. Face to face Ratchet noted the Prime's rigid posture, his E.M field may have been pulled close to himself but the discomfort was evident. After a tense moment, the larger mech started to speak.
"I- There is something I must confess, what I mean to say is that," Optimus cut himself off, optics darted away from the medic and to the wall behind him, "I have been lying by omission to you and the team."
Ratchet sat up straighter with unease. For a kilk the Prime's grasp on his field seemed to loosen, emitting out a hint of guilt through the cracks before quickly regaining his hold on the field once more.
"As you know, after putting Unicron into stasis Optimus was reverted back to Orion Pax. There, he was taken by Megatron on board the Nemesis and decoded parts of Project Iacon which held the coordinates to Cybertron's ancient relics," Optimus continued.
The mech looked back at the medic once more. His optics were dim and a heavy fog of exhaustion clung onto them.
"After escaping the ship and returning to the Autobots, Orion was given the key to Vector Sigma and there Optimus Prime returned."
"Yes I know, were there why are you telling me this?" Ratchet interrupted, he didn't mean to be rude but the feeling of unease was swarming him.
Optimus held his vent.
"That is what I am trying to explain. I have deceived you, I am not Optimus, I am not even Orion, I'm... sorry," the mech confessed.
Ratchet furrowed his brow, intake parting slightly, "...what?"
"When the Matrix was returned Orion was overwritten. Optimus was already gone when the Matrix originally depleted. In simple terms I am no longer the mech you once knew, I am just a Prime, nothing more and nothing less," Optimus explained.
Ratchet continued to stare at the mech, sparkbreak threatened to overwhelm him. Is this what Optimus thought of himself?
"That is the biggest load of scrap I've ever heard!" Ratchet threw his servos up into the air.
"I am sorry that you had to find out this way," Optimus replied apologetically, "But you have to let go, both of them. Orion and Optimus have become one with the Allspark and-"
"Why do you think that? What possible reasoning could make you come to that conclusion? And give me an actual reason and not just some mystic artifact or 'Primely intuition,'" Ratchet demanded. He knew he was starting to sound desperate but he didn't know how else to feel.
Optimus' optics darted around while his posture remained unchanged. Ratchet shook his leg impatiently, he didn't want to rush his friend but he couldn't help the unease that was building with every nano-klik of waiting.
"Ever since I left the Nemesis and returned to the base, I have felt a certain... disconnect from this frame and designation. Its as though it is functioning solely on base protocols and nothing else. HUD notifications are quieter, sensory inputs are dulled, and so forth. Not only that but time has been moving at a rather strange pace for me. My current running theory is that I am able to speak to you because it is beneficial to the mission. Optimus was made Prime and I believe that the being that is currently talking to you is the final bit of Prime coding to continue working until Cybertron is restored," Optimus explained.
Ratchet's optics were blown wide open now, the pit in his tank dropped and his spark shattered into a million different pieces.
"Optimus-"
"Is gone. I am sorry for your loss, and I am sorry that I have kept this from you, he considered you a close friend," Optimus interrupted, "In his absence I will make sure to continue his duties and help bring back Cybertron."
Silence engulfed the two once more. Optimus gazed at the old medic with what seemed to be remorse. Ratchet didn't know what to do to, he knew something had been off but he didn't realize that this was what it had accumulated to. He wasn't sure where to start but he knew he had to for the sake for his friend. Ratchet took a moment to gather his thoughts.
"...Look, I highly doubt that you've been 'replaced' by some ancient Prime coding," he began slowly, "Now, I'm not a psychiatrist, that isn't the field I chose to study. But I think I know what's going on."
Ratchet wrung out his servos.
"Optimus from what you've told me I believe you have been disassociated," he continued.
The Prime squinted slightly at the medic in confusion.
"I don't believe I follow," Optimus admitted.
"You've been through a lot of things these past few months alone, Unicron, amnesia, being under Megatron's 'care', and having your memory along with the Matrix returned to you. This isn't even mentioning the prolonged state of war we have been in. Its all been very taxing to your processor," Ratchet began to explain.
Optimus shifted on the berth uncomfortably. Ratchet reached out with his own E.M field in comfort.
"Theres only so much someone can handle until they... break... Megatron's second betrayal definitely did no favors either. There is some coding that we are forged with to prevent that exact thing from happening. But even then it's abilities are limited. So, sometimes, when our processors can't handle the influx of new data or thinks that we are in danger it tries to separate us from the precieved the threat," Ratchet continued.
"It's been a long time since I learned about this at the academy but that is the general idea. I don't know how the Matrix affects this but the base concept should be the same," the medic concluded at last.
Optimus looked at the medic with uncertainty in his optics. He clenched and released his servos as he tried to form words for everything he had just learned. Ratchet gently reached out and held the Prime's servos.
"How are you so sure?" Optimus asked at last. His voice was quiet and lacking the usual determination present during his speeches.
"We've been at war for a long time. I may have not formally been educated on this subject but I have seen cases like this during my time as a field medic," Ratchet explained patiently.
Times like these the mech wished he wasn't just a grumpy old medic. He knew he had a tendency to come across as abrasive or rude but he hoped with all his spark that he could be soft for at least this moment. Optimus' grip tightened fighting an internal battle. They sat in grueling silence for a moment longer, Ratchet looking for every shift of pedes or flinch or really anything. A hitch in vent caught his attention, Optimus' posture crumbled and his finials drooped with defeat.
"I'm so tired, Ratchet," Optimus confessed in a small voice at last. His brows scrunched and optics shut as if admitting such a thing was something shameful.
"I'm sorry," Ratchet responded in an equally mournful tone. He truly meant it, he should've done more than the preliminary checks after Optimus had returned, he should've done a psych eval sooner. There were so many other things he should've done, but it was too late for those things now and they had to move on. Ratchet swore he would be there for their leader and dearest friend.
Small clinks and rattles passed through Optimus as near silent sobs shook his frame. Ratchet gently stood from the crate and sat next to the larger mech. Carefully, he moved a servo onto Optimus's back who subconsciously leaned into the touch. Ratchet rubbed small circles while emitting as much comfort from his field. Even as Optimus' hold on his own field faltered, even as the insurmountable waves of grief and guilt through the cracks threatened to drown him, Ratchet held on tight. Determined, Ratchet moved to wrap his arms around Optimus holding him close. He could hear the mech clenching his dentas, trying to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to escape. Ratchet held him through it providing silent but sturdy support. When was the last time he'd seen his friend so vulnerable? Had he ever seen his friend like this?
Lubricant gathered in his eyes as he thought about their fearless leader. Prime the mech with a spark of gold, Prime who was the symbol of hope, Prime who with his determination and bravery drove the autobot movement forward.
But Ratchet could see it now, he saw Optimus who was drowning in a sea guilt, Optimus who was locked in an eternal battle with his former brother in arm, Optimus who gave his mind and spark for the freedom of others while sacrificing his own. Ratchet also saw Orion, who struggled against the tides of the cruel world, Orion the archivist who was given the burden of Primacy with no warning, Orion who clawed at the suffocating barrier that Optimus had to put up for survival. He could see now how Optimus silently mourned Orion even as he kicked and screamed to live. The two sat in near complete silence, the air thick with grief and a myriad of other emotions that was hidden behind years of unrelenting stoicism. Even once the tremors stopped, the two continued to sit in silence. When vents stopped coming in stuttering uneven spurts, Optimus raised a servo to his optics to wipe away the gathered lubricant. After a klik he cleared his vocalizer.
"Thank you, old friend," he said at last, voice slightly hoarse.
Optimus gave Ratchet a fragile smile. The heaviness in his optics weren't gone, no, that fog of exhaustion wasn't going away anytime soon. But the life in them did return, Ratchet could see Optimus in that gaze again, faint but nonetheless there.
"I'm... still not sure if I am completely present," Optimus admitted.
"These kinds of things don't disappear with one conversation," Ratchet replied apologetically.
Optimus hummed in understanding. After a beat, his finials flicked in slight distress.
"Ratchet, thank you for being here. I am sorry you had to see me this way today, I did not mean to burden you with my own personal ailments-"
"Hep ep ep, none of that. You don't have to apologize for talking about your feelings. This isn't a burden you have to carry on your own," Ratchet interrupted.
"But that does not mean I can push it onto you. I am a Prime, as a leader I have responsibilities and I understand this," Optimus continued.
"Oh Primus, Optimus, holding in your emotions and being miserable is not included in that," Ratchet brought a servo to his temple.
"But remaining composed and orderly even in the face of danger is. I am a leader, therefor it is my duty to put aside personal feelings for the greater good," Optimus, ever the martyr, argued.
Ratchet's engines revved in frustration. He was sparkbroken to hear Optimus disregard his own personal well being and he was frustrated that this conversation seemed to go in circles.
"You are not above us! You're not a god! You are a mech just like the rest of us," Ratchet snapped.
Optimus winced, he looked away from Ratchet as shame emitted from his field. The medic deflated and cursed himself in regret.
"I never claimed to be a god, it is just what I must live up to be," Optimus murmured.
"Optimus no- I," Ratchet sighed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose my temper, just, you have to allow yourself to be a person. It's unfair, and frankly, impossible to fill the expectation that comes with the role," the medic explained.
"But I have to try, for the sake of this team I must," Optimus gave Ratchet a pained look, his field drawing in tighter once more.
"You're still our leader either way. Yes, the team respects you and looks up to you and turns to you for guidance. But we also care about you," Ratchet insisted.
Optimus stayed silent, Ratchet was starting to hate these moments. He had to approach this with a gentle touch he knew he didn't have even before the war. It took everything in his power not to shake the Prime while calling him a slagging idiot and to wake up and see the concern and care the rest of the team carried for him.
"It might take a long time but I promise you we will make sure you know that you are loved and cared for, even if it takes another couple thousand cycles," Ratchet promised softly at last.
Optimus looked at Ratchet with wet optics and a genuine smile. Ratchet knew this was not going to be the end, Primus knew they all had vorns worth of trauma. But he knew that if anyone deserved a lighter burden it was Optimus, and he knew the team would care for their leader and friend. With a groan and joint pop that made his age very apparent, Ratchet got up from the medical berth. He turned to Optimus before offering a servo.
"C'mon, lets get you refueled. I'm going to be a real glitch about it from now on," Ratchet nagged without heat.
Optimus took the servo with a cheeky chuckle, "As if you weren't already, Ratchet."
"It's doctor Ratchet to you, I didn't bust my aft in the academy for stellar-cycles for you all to forget it!" Ratchet huffed jokingly.
"Why yes, my mistake Dr. Ratchet," Optimus shot back.
They continued to banter as they left the medical wing, the tension in the air lighter than it had been in many many cycles. They knew this was not going to be the end, there would be more troubles and losses that would greet them in the future, but for now this was progress. Ratchet felt relief as he saw Optimus' faceplate, in the sea of his cyan optics he saw Orion clinging on in triumph despite it all.