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you want a revelation

Who: Orion Pax and Arcee
Where: THE ROD POD
When: March 17 probably like just after midnight.
What: Once the AI is taken out Orion can finally stop trying to break things inside of the Rod Pod. Or as much as he could while being down two limbs and starving to death anyway. He's concerned about being captured by Autobots, and the Autobots are concerned about how he isn't one.
Warnings: FUCK

He stays unconscious for a good long while after the fight, but not long enough. When he finds consciousness again, after sucking dry what was left of his natural energon stores, the rest unfolds like a confusing dream. He's been locked inside what appears to be a small vessel. On one hand, it doesn't look anything like the place he was before. On the other, the implant is still there and the driver is not happy.

Time passes in a haze, his will and the AI's running together in a dizzying mess. He finds himself lashing out ineffectually with his remaining to limbs. Then he finds himself just trying to hide and disappear. He isn't saved, after all. He knows who took him.

It was a relief at the time, but he's just been taken by another enemy. Even if he'd take just about anything over the one that had him before.

It's hours before it full stops, and he isn't sure of the transition. One moment he just wakes up to silence and an empty head - and oh so much pain. He hadn't realized how muffled everything was before, but now his whole body is aching with energon starvation and dislodged joints.

Hiding isn't going to accomplish anything, but it's the only thing he can think of to do. He sits in a corner, his broken leg resting at an aggressively wonky angle, and his good arm defensively braced around his chest.

He'll see how much they want to save him, he thinks, when they realize he isn't who they wanted. He doesn't have the energy left to deceive.

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It's hard to feel good about bringing Optimus back when she thinks about what they had to do to do it. Reducing him to a battered, broken mess -- and they've taken their fair share of injuries too... It tastes bitter to Arcee. More than ever, she feels like she's ill-suited to lead the Autobots in his stead. But now -- now, at least, they have him back. Almost.

Arcee knows Legion and several others were going to take down the entity responsible -- that False Dynamo. She'd have gone to help, too, if they hadn't come out of that fight so run down. Now it's just a matter of waiting -- waiting for the city's heroes, those that fight for this planet to take care of the rest. The wait is...difficult. They take shifts outside the Rod Pod, keeping watch. Rodimus and Magnus are still recovering from their considerably more serious injuries, so Arcee takes the longer shifts. Whatever's mind-controlling him is still active. They can't afford to let him free or even give him energon until he's no longer a danger -- to them and to himself. Arcee knows Optimus will understand.

When it's finally over, it's well after dark. Her abdomen still aches where his blaster fire had hit her, but it's outweighed by the little swell of hope in her spark. She feels lighter than she has in weeks -- months. It's taken a while, and it hasn't been easy...but they've found Optimus. He's worse for the wear and they're light years away from where they need to be, but this mission is almost over. Soon they'll get back to where they need to be. Optimus will resume command over the Autobots, and they'll keep on fighting.

She brings a few cubes of energon and a first aid kit when she steps into the Rod Pod. She'd tried to cauterize his wounds when they first brought him back, but she's sure some of his wounds have opened again. The inside of the ship is largely dark, lit only by the emergency lights and the glow of the consoles, but it's not a big ship. It doesn't take her long to find him huddled in the corner, as much as someone his size can huddle. Arcee feels a fresh wave of guilt eat at her when she sees him. That energon was spilled by her blaster fire. Never again.

She half-crouches in front of him, setting down the first aid kit and all but one of the energon cubes. He'd lost a lot of energon in that fight, and it didn't seem like he'd had much to begin with. He needs it. "Optimus?" she says softly, her optics bright in the dark of the room.

Most of the moments he's had alone have been put towards thinking about what he'll do in this exact moment - when the Autobots come to him expecting a leader and finding...well, him. A bot who not only was unable, but unwilling to lead their cause. When he'd been still staying with Megatron, he'd spent quite a bit of time contemplating how he might use that misunderstanding to his advantage. How he might somehow end the war by using his influence in the Autobot ranks.

He doesn't have the strength for it in his spark, now. And after they were hurt like they were trying to save him, he feels guilty that he isn't Optimus Prime, even though that's someone he never intends to be again.

It's the same one he'd attacked before - the little two wheeler. The one he'd most tangibly seen the fear and betrayal in. His processor is spinning on fumes at this point. He doesn't know how to handle this.

"No," he says, avoiding her optics. "I am afraid not."

"What -- ?" Arcee's optics dim with confusion, just a touch of that fear and betrayal he'd seen once before -- but this is almost purely uncomprehending, because what he says just doesn't make any sense. But she shakes her head -- he's down to the wire on energon and that can really mess with your processor, and Prime or no, what he's been through is traumatic any way you spell it. He needs to refuel first, before anything. Then -- then they can talk. Arcee drops to a crouch and opens the first aid kit, drawing out a portable infusion pump. She's no Ratchet, but she's had basic field first aid training, and he needs it.

"You need energon," she says, her voice hushed, as she loads the infusion pump. "Don't worry, Optimus. I've got you."

It hardly feels like enough, though. Arcee is careful as she connects the infusion pump to a port in his arm -- his good arm. Her optics dart to his other arm, at the energon streaked down his plating from the damaged joint, and it feels like someone's just punched a hole right through her injured midsection. This isn't how this mission was supposed to go.

"I'm sorry." There's just the slightest catch in her vocalizer before she resets it -- the words come out heavy, subdued.

He doesn't stop her. Both because he doesn't want to struggle about anything with anyone at the moment, and because, well, he doesn't really want to die. After everything he's read, he can't say he isn't afraid that they'd decide to leave him if it was clear he wouldn't be of use.

Even if that image of the Autobots doesn't seem to be lining up at all. Not with this one, and not really with the others. They hadn't responded to him with fear or trepidation, just...concern for someone they cared about.

Maybe Optimus Prime was more charismatic than he has been imagining. He doesn't really know. The point is, she isn't listening to him, and he really doesn't want to have to explain.

"I am speaking the truth," he says slowly. "I am not Optimus Prime, and...I have no recollection of ever being him."

That makes her spark feel like it's just been snuffed out. The air hitches in her vents and she stares at him, her face blank and uncomprehending. There's no way to misconstrue anything he says as mere disorientation, but she just -- she doesn't understand. She knows who he is -- she knows whose face she's looking at. Her optics focus and refocus, as if that'll change what she's seeing, somehow, but it doesn't. Her hand doesn't leave the infusion pump, holding it in place as the energon slowly drains into his system.

"What are you -- " She shakes her head, as though that'll clear it, but she looks like she's really struggling. "I don't understand. What -- what do you mean, you don't remember?"

He's never been very comfortable with this sort of thing. Not with someone he doesn't know. Heated, emotional conversations are not something he's ever sought out - or at least they weren't, until he met Megatronus. And that had been so much different than it feels right now.

He's determined now that he can't lie to this bot, though, regardless of what it will mean for his own fate. His former followers deserve the truth - the truth they should have had from the beginning.

"From...from my understanding, my intentions took a severe turn after I was appointed the Matrix of Leadership. Now that I no longer carry it..." He can't stand to look at her when admitting this. "...I feel that I have been misled, and misled you and your comrades in return."

Arcee is no closer to understanding, and it shows on her face -- but she looks crushed all the same, somehow. Like she's suddenly found herself in a vacuum, all the air sucked from her vents. Every answer he gives only raises more and more questions, her processor swimming in them. The infusion pump drains itself into Orion's arm and she reaches for another energon cube with almost numb hands.

"I -- wait -- back up." Arcee's optics dart from side to side as she tries to process it, tries to make sense of what he's saying. "Who -- told you all this? You don't have the Matrix anymore? What happened? Just -- just tell me what happened." Was this the mind control? Had the entity responsible somehow stolen the Matrix and, what, fed some total scrap to him about what it had done to him? Even as she thinks it, she knows it doesn't make sense. There's mind control, and then there's propaganda. And what would they know of Cybertronians, anyway?

"...Someone whose word you would likely find meaningless," he says, honestly. He isn't going to pretend it isn't from the ones they would consider their enemies. "But that is an opinion I no longer share, now that...I have found myself once again."

"The Matrix has been destroyed, and with it, the control it had over my spark," he says. He's feeling increasingly frustrated with everything that's happened, and it shows subtly in his words. "I do not expect you to understand."

He's right -- she doesn't understand. She hadn't been prepared for this. She'd thought the hard part was over, but now she's seeing that it's only just started. Arcee cycles air through her vents, trying to make sense of the small fragments he's giving her -- she knows he's tired, he's injured and beaten down and now he's not even himself, but this...she can't just leave this alone. It's too important.

"You think the Matrix was controlling you?" Arcee sound incredulous, because she is. Her vocalizer crackles around the edges of the words, heavy with emotion and sheer disbelief. "Controlling you to do what? To -- to fight a war against a tyrant? To protect us -- to lead us when we needed someone?" She looks at him, helpless. She thinks back to her earliest memories, to the now-distant days before the war -- when she'd been nothing but a cop, patrolling the streets of Iacon. He'd been someone else back then, too. There's at least one small part of this she can make sense of. "If you're not Optimus Prime anymore, then -- who are you? Orion Pax?"

"Yes," he says, quietly. "I am Orion Pax, and that is all I wish to be."

He should leave it at that, he knows he should. But the things she's saying rub him the wrong way, even though he's so fully aware of the stories the Autobots have probably been told. To hear Megatron spoken of like that, when he knows it's rightfully his fault...it makes him angry, and he doesn't have the emotional strength to hold it back right now.

"And Megatronus was never a tyrant," he says, he tone sharper for his anger, but still reserved. "If you knew the things we did to them, the things we had sworn to fight against..."

In a way, Arcee is glad there's no one else in the room to hear this. No doubt Rodimus would be pitching a fit by now, and Ultra Magnus -- she doesn't even know what Ultra Magnus would do. But at the same time it's frustrating, it's maddening because what he's saying seems so surreal she can't even be sure she's hearing it herself.

"Maybe not that you remember." Arcee doesn't sound angry, just -- upset. A tiny thread of desperation creeps into her voice, her optics never leaving his face. That he has such a warped impression of how things even happened is what gets to her the most. "What did we do to them, Optimus -- Orion? What do you think happened? Megatron changed when the war came around. It was you who stood fast against him."

He doesn't know how to argue with this, and not in a way that makes him feel like he must be wrong. Instead, it's all too easy to imagine how their side of the story would be just as bias as he's sure that Megatron's, to some degree, is...that's just the reality of history. But as such, nothing she tells him means anything. It all comes down to who he personally trusts the most.

And Megatron...

He trusted him more than anyone, perhaps besides Alpha Trion.

"He was the head of a revolution intended to bring freedom and justice to those that did not have it," he says, trying to remain calm, but with an intensity that shows through the cracks. "And I sided with the ones that enforced the regime that took it away from them. I have no evidence of what I had reason to stand against when I should have been at his side."

"It was Megatron who told you this, wasn't it?" Realization dawns on Arcee like a lead weight in her fuel tank, and she rocks back on her heels like she's reeling from a blow. Megatron's gotten into his head. Forget the injuries, forget the mind control -- this is the single most devastating thing that could have happened to Optimus. When had this happened? "It was Megatron. Does he have the Matrix? Is he here?"

It'd make sense. She'd been wondering how Optimus's quest to defeat Unicron had led him to this strange corner of the galaxy. If Megatron is here, though... All of this is so much worse than she'd thought. They're not prepared for this. They are nowhere near prepared.

"Was Megatron bringing freedom and justice to Cybertron when he poisoned its core with dark energon?" There's anger rising in her voice now, mixed with the anguish of someone who'd watched thousands of years of civil war destroy her home. "You're not that much older than I am, Orion. I remember how it started. I remember the speeches and the rallies. But it didn't stay like that for long. I don't know what Megatron's been telling you, but it is not the full story."

He flinches at the mention of dark energon, more than anything else. That isn't something that can be a bias misinterpretation of events. If Megatron did that, it's objectively wrong. It either means that Megatron is a different bot than he thought, or it's a complete lie made against him.

He's not the sort of bot inclined to ignoring another's arguments. It goes against everything that he is. But when given the options between believing that Megatron would willfully destroy their home and that the Autobots are telling him lies...

There was only ever one option.

"That is a lie," he says, his level tones as angry as they ever get. "He would not. You are the ones that have been deceived." He tries to sit up straighter as if to stand his ground, but even with the fresh energon flowing through him, the pain in his limbs are too much. "And I would prefer to leave here. If the Autobots are so different from what I have been told, prove it to me by not holding me prisoner."

That look of betrayal that he'd seen before crosses her face again now, but it's cut so much deeper this time. Her optics widen and he might as well have hit her for how stricken she looks. This is a conversation she never thought she'd be having, not like this.

"Why would I lie about something like that?" Arcee's voice drops to a hushed whisper, incredulous and hurt. "Why would I lie about what happened to my home? Orion, I -- "

But even Arcee knows there's no point in arguing any further. She's already pressed too much, if anything. She's made him angry, angry on Megatron's behalf. That sure as hell isn't helping. Her gaze falls away, her optics dimming. "You're not our prisoner. You're..." He's not their leader, not...anymore. Not like this. And she knows they can't let Megatron just have him. So what does that make him? "We only came to save you, Orion. You're not our prisoner. But you're in no condition to be going anywhere right now. You need to recharge and refuel and heal up a little. And if you still really want to leave then, well..." She doesn't sound angry anymore, just -- defeated. Her shoulders go slack as she steps forward, far more tentatively than before, to refill the infusion pump one last time. "I won't stop you."

She backs away from him again, because she's still never seen him angry, not like this, and truthfully, she doesn't know what to do. She'd been expecting a reunion; instead, she'd gotten exactly the opposite.

He doesn't really believe that they will let him go. Not after the caveat of him needing to wait until he's "healed." It sounds too much like the kinds of lies one would tell to try to pacify him, to keep him distracted without actually having to concede to his demand.

He doesn't argue with her though. He's not prepared to press the issue to the breaking point yet, not when he's so weak. Maybe if he doesn't fight them he'll find a way out on his own. Or at least, he's not intending on getting confrontational, but just must be the kind of week he's having though because something slips out.

"I would argue that I am not the one you came to save," he says. The words are aggressively level, but the anger has faded.

Arcee's never met Orion Pax, not until now, but even with his strange loyalties to Megatron...he still reminds her so much of Optimus. That conviction -- that's never changed, she doesn't think. Her optics soften, and she just looks tired now.

"That doesn't matter," she says quietly, her voice heavy. "I've been an Autobot for seven thousand years, Orion, and in all that time... I don't know what Megatron's told you, but in all that time, if there's one thing I've learned about Optimus Prime...it's that he never met a life he didn't think was worth saving." She starts to close up the first aid kit, stacking the empty energon cubes.

The words touch him, and that's not something he was expecting. Not for Optimus Prime to described in terms of mercy. Other lies in his favour, like preaching of his justice or his bravery would make more sense - virtues that could easily disguise their own weight in sins. But mercy...?

His reaction is evident on his face. He's not in the place to hold anything back. The only thing that makes sense is to imagine all her words are lies and exaggerations but...how could she? How could she believe something like that so strongly if everything he knew of Optimus Prime was true.

He's getting emotional as well, both because of his confusion and because his frustration is causing him to seek refuge in thinking about Megatronus - the one that he knows. Or knew. But how could he be so quick to change his opinion of someone like him? Someone that he...someone who meant so much.

"Megatronus...did so much for bots that were helpless to do anything. He was the bravest being I have ever had the honour of meeting, and I...I considered him to be my..." Orion does not consider himself to be one for irrational self blame, but trying to phrase this in words has him internally berating his own selfish sentimentality over someone he reasonably no longer had any claim over. "My closest friend."

He looks up at her, the emotional weight visible in his eyes.

"I have no reason to believe that he would deceive me, any more than the likes of Alpha Trion. Unless you intend to tell me that he has done Cybertron wrong as well."

It makes Arcee's spark heave to see him so wrought with emotion over this -- over Megatron. But she can't even bring herself to be angry over that. It was never any secret, Optimus's past ties to Megatron. The betrayal of one of his closest confidantes had always motivated him to find a way to bring an end to the war.

"I know," Arcee says, surprisingly gently, but her voice is still thick with resignation, full of emotion of her own. "I know. But it's been seven thousand years, Orion. Some people...some people change. Not Alpha Trion, no -- but..."

It's a waste of trying to convince him only on her word, though. With only a flicker of hesitation, she draws closer again, this time to disconnect the infusion pump. Her hands are slow, careful; memories or no, Matrix or no, he is obviously still someone she cares a great deal about. "There's a stack of datapads next to my recharge slab. Autobot records, journals, research...some of it came from the archives at Iacon itself. If you really want to know what happened, Orion -- if you're really concerned with the truth...I think you owe it to yourself to look at both sides of the story. Draw your own conclusions. Don't let me -- or Megatron -- decide for you."

The offer gives him an uneasy feeling, and it doesn't take him long to reader that it's because he's afraid of being wrong. Afraid of what that betrayal would mean. He's not one for self delusion, though, and if anything that realization makes him more inclined to learn as much as he can. Megatron will have his faith, and that won't change. It's a question of whether fact can prove him wrong.

He doesn't understand how he could be wrong, though. Everything in his heart is telling him he can't be.

"I will read whatever resources you have to offer," he says tiredly, gaze lowering hazily. "...But I will not decide anything before speaking to him again."

"That's your prerogative," Arcee says, her voice quiet and heavy. "If that's what you need to do...you do whatever you have to, Orion."

She really doesn't know how this is all going to play out. She doesn't know how he's going to talk to Megatron and how that's not going to end poorly for all of them. She doesn't know how many Decepticons are on this planet, but the Autobots are a wreck without a medic, and they won't be able to withstand much of an assault if it comes down to it. And when it comes to Megatron, there's no doubt in her mind that there'd be an assault.

Arcee can't think about that now, though. Not yet. She can't worry about it, not when they're still picking themselves up after that fight, not when she's still reeling from this revelation. She just gathers up the infusion pump and stows it in the first aid kit, wincing slightly as she crouches and rises again. She'd gotten off easy in that fight, but the dented plating on her abdomen doesn't make for the easiest of movement.

"I meant what I said before. If you really want to leave, once you're well enough to do so...I won't stop you. I'm not going to lock you in here, either." She's not sure the others will agree with that decision, but she has no intention of making Orion their prisoner. That's not what they came here for. "If you need anything, I won't be going far."

She hesitates, gathering up the first aid kit and the empty energon cubes in her arms, leaving a few full ones behind for him. Her optics settle back on his face. Strange, she thinks, how he can look so much like someone she's known and trusted for thousands of years, someone who's always had her unwavering loyalty. Strange how so much has changed when she wasn't looking, how there's no light of recognition in his optics now.

"My name is Arcee," she says, and her voice catches in her vocalizer before she resets it. Somehow, telling him her name is so much harder than the rest of this. "If you need anything, just...ask for me."

He's still lost somewhere between being earnestly sympathetic and feeling obligated to be contrary. Like he needs to challenge what is being offered here, and to be assertive about his place in things. Really, it shouldn't take much conviction to be concerned by his own broken limbs, but that is the sort of mental place he's been inhabiting recently.

"I don't know what materials you have available," he says, slowly. "But something to stabilize my damaged limbs would be appreciated." Being able to stand, even if it's on a splint, would be nice.

A guilty look flits across her face, only for a moment, because right now she wishes they had proper medical facilities, a proper medic. She knows they did what they had to do to bring him back here, but it doesn't make her feel any better about the state he's in now.

"I'll see what I can do," she says, and it sounds like a genuine promise. "I don't know what we have, but...I'll see if we can put something together for you." She hesitates, sighing out air through her vents. "Are you in a lot of pain? I could probably find something to give you for it."

"Less than I have been in recently," he says darkly, looking away. "But I have no desire to suffer further out of pride. I will take whatever you can offer."

There has been so much to take in. It's hard to imagine that only a short time ago he was still in shackles in that prison. He's never had to deal with something like this before and getting his head around it is difficult. He's hurt and angry in a way he doesn't feel like he can articulate, or even that he should articulate. Not to a stranger.

He wishes he wasn't so alone in this. Everything seems to rest on his shoulders.

It hurts. Arcee doesn't want to admit it, but it does. Now that the initial shock is starting to fade, little by little, and the weight of reality settles in, that's what it feels like. Without fault, without blame -- at least for anyone in this room -- it hurts. Arcee's gaze falls away, defeated, and she nods slowly.

"I'll be back," she promises, but her voice is subdued. She turns to leave, the clank of her feet on the floor louder than ever. It had been bad enough when Optimus had left to fight Unicron. Now...now, she really doesn't know how they're going to get through this.

He nods, but doesn't say anything. It's obvious how upset she is, and he's incapable of not caring about that. But he doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't have the energy to figure it out right now.

So instead he just leans back against the wall and closes his optics, trying not to think about the pain.

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you want a revelation

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CRITICAL HIT FOR MASSIVE DAMAGE

8')

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