no one mourns the wicked

[thanksoptimus]

Who: Optimus Prime and AUTOBOTS
Where: The Autobot campground.
When: The evening/night after the dance off.
What: Orion Pax has been restored to his past and future self. Optimus Prime is NOT HAPPY. Also, very very tired.
Warnings: Injuries, intense robot ass devastation. Angry dad. Angry mom.

Optimus Prime, unlike Orion Pax, leaves no time for argument or complaint. After he's finished dealing with Megatron, he orders the Autobots to roll out, provided assistance to injured comrades where necessary. He takes no assistance for himself.

Which is stupid, because after days of starvation and torture and minus the burst of power from the Matrix he was utilizing just before, he is extremely fucked up. It's less obvious that he's on his last legs than it might be with some bots, but he is very injured and trying hard to pretend that he isn't. He drives back to base by his own means, and doesn't speak but to give the occasional order until they are there.

He wants everyone safe and tended to and organized, and he needs to have a talk with just about everyone on the team, and besides that he needs to catch up with everything he hadn't been paying attention to as Orion Pax...he doesn't see how he could possibly take a rest quite yet, there is too much stuff to do, and if he made it this far he can make it a little bit father.

More than tired, though, he is angry. He's angry at Megatron, angry at some of his team, and angry at himself. He doesn't pause to talk to anyone once they get back to camp, and immediately starts to ineffectually try to organize things with as few words as possible.

[Feel free to tag in as someone at any point in this, including later in the night or the next day. He will probably pass out in the medibay within the hour, though. Either that or Ratchet will get him.]

Comments

[worstprime]

It's easy to avoid speaking with Optimus after the fight - their newly restored leader doesn't, frankly, seem to want to speak with anyone...a request that Rodimus is more than happy to oblige. In fact, he would probably continue to oblige if not for the fact that he's stuck in the medibay with him.

Ratchet was quick in making repairs, but with so many of them injured, so few supplies and only one of him, there's only so much he can do at a time. The more major of Rodimus' wounds have been sealed up and the structural damange to his chassis at least stabilised but the welds are still fresh, and sore. He hasn't been able to do all that much in the way of moving about, which is for the best anyhow since he's exhausted. Despite this, he's hardly spent a minute offline, instead choosing to spend his time miserably stewing in his own guilt, waiting for Optimus to awaken.

Rodimus is sitting on the edge of a nearby berth when he notices Optimus stir, finally showing signs of life after passing out cycles before. He's been waiting for this moment, knowing that eventually they'd have to talk, but now that the moment's come, Rodimus suddenly wishes he were anyhere BUT here. What's he supposed to say?

"...hey. You're awake. Um. How do you...how do you feel?"

[thanksoptimus]

Optimus had been fully intent on continuing to remain conscious until everything had been sorted, but ultimately that didn't pan out for him. After Ratchet had forced him to receive treatment for his many injuries, it hadn't been very long at all before weariness finally overtook him and he fell into recharge before much work could even be done.

Much of the basics have been accomplished since he passed out, and the chance to actually rest has helped. However, when he wakes up his processor is still hot with anger and frustration - a storm of emotions and regrets that has barely receded even as he was offline.

His optics blink hazily, he eyebrows furrowed. One of his fists clenches at his side, and for a moment it's not clear whether he actually heard Rodimus or not.

"As can be expected," he says, finally, still not turning to face the other bot. After a moment or two of glaring into space, his optics flicker in his direction. "Have your injuries been treated?"

No nonsense, here.

[worstprime]

Yikes, cold, Optimus.

"Yeah. Ratchet's been busy but the worst of it's taken care of..." Rodimus replies. This wasn't the Optimus he was expecting at all...the anger doesn't seem to have retreated at all, and the terse way he answers surprises Rodimus. There's an agonisingly long moment of uncomfortable silence where he doesn't know what to say next. Clearly there are going to be no pleasantries here; this conversation needs to happen, so he might as well get it over with...even if saying the words is nearly physically painful.

"I...um..." Rodimus' voice is strained, and he watches Optimus closely as he speaks. "I hope...I hope you're not angry. Um...about...I mean, you probably are. Angry. With me. And the er...things that I did."

[thanksoptimus]

Optimus has yet to hear anything about this story from Rodimus himself. He had gotten some idea of it while he was still Megatron's prisoner, from the things that had been said, but it wasn't until they had returned to base that he was given any context. He is angry, yes. The picture that it creates is not one that he likes at all.

But Rodimus's nervousness is glaringly obvious, and he isn't going to start dealing out any scoldings until he knows the full story. Or, at least, Rodimus's version.

He vents slowly and carefully, as if he has to delicately unwind something. A bit of the tension leaves him, but even close to all of it. There is more than just Rodimus on his mind. So much more.

"I have not yet had time to fully understand the nature of what you did, Rodimus," he says, and part of him still just sounds fucking exhausted beneath everything else. "But I would like for you to explain it to me, in your own words. I am withholding my judgement until then."

[worstprime]

Rodimus puts a hand to his mouth, his expression unabashedly distraught. This almost seems like an opportunity to explain himself, but Rodimus knows better than that now...he'd made some serious mistakes in the past couple of weeks. Some mistakes that even he knows there's no explaining in the world that is going to make right.

"I...okay. Okay." He vents a sigh, steeling himself as he scrambles to organize his thoughts. "It's not...it's not really all that complex, I suppose. I um...I thought, when you were still Orion and, and things weren't looking all that great that I would..." He hesitates briefly, feeling suddenly very self-conscious. "I decided to....um.....infiltrate the Decepticons. You know, to gather intel. I thought I could do more good doing that than sitting around the base doing...nothing."

He pauses, clasping his hands together, looking down, unable to bring himself to look at Optimus while he explains.

"And I...." he exhales a vent sharply. "I didn't tell Arcee."

He fully expects a bad reaction at that, so he doesn't leave a window for one, and instead plows ahead, speaking rapidly as he does.

"I spent some time tracking them down, and when I did, they let me join up with a little convincing and...I...traded them some non-essential intel. It - it wasn't anything that would hurt anyone, just bits and pieces. Miscellany, really. I was there for almost two weeks and I didn't find out anything. I didn't even know you were there, I swear. It was...it was a waste of time.

"And besides," Rodimus' expression hardens briefly. "Obviously, it turns out they'd been on to me the whole time. I know, it was stupid. I was stupid. And. Well. Here we are."

It's a rough version, and it's watered down, but that's pretty much it. Minus one small thing...the thing that he's most concerned about sharing, and he hovers precariously on doing so, deciding to give Optimus a moment to react first.

[deadpartners]

It's undoubtedly good to have Optimus back, but even so, things have been a strangely muddled haze even in the wake of their victory. Everyone's exhausted after the fight, for one, and Drift and Rodimus both are in some considerable trouble, and -- even though things are undoubtedly looking better now, there's so much to sort out. That, and Optimus is in obvious need of medical treatment and recharge.

Arcee knows Optimus must have enough on his mind already, could have told from the strength of his fury toward Megatron, and on top of that he's injured, too. She holds off on speaking with him in the interest of not crowding him, of overwhelming him, because he doesn't seem terribly eager to engage with any of them just yet. Unfortunately, this just...gives her more time to dwell on everything that's happened. In the midst of the battle, Matrix in hand, there'd been no hesitation; even now, she can't say what she feels is regret, either, but there's a longing there. Her spark had been a confusing mess before they'd gotten the Matrix back, and she'd expected that to have stopped, somehow -- but the admittedly musical but heartfelt conversation she'd had with Drift had...complicated things. More than ever, she's not sure how to feel.

It's not the reason she goes to see Optimus a day or so later, when she thinks he might have recovered some. As the now-relieved temporary commander of the Autobots, she has a lot to fill Optimus in on -- and she's dreading it, in a way. Despite the recovery of the Matrix, the Autobots are arguably worse off than when he'd left. The urgency of their situation until now had spared her from the shame of having to examine her failures too closely, but now...well, Arcee can't help but feel like she's disappointed Optimus in more ways than one.

She brings a couple of datapads into the medibay, entering quietly. She sees Optimus on one of the berths, looking a little better than just after the battle but still considerably worse for the wear. She draws air in through her vents before cycling it out again, trying to steel herself. Focus, now. Autobot duties first.

"Optimus, sir."

[thanksoptimus]

He's been restless, despite the fact that Ratchet has been insisting that he give himself some peace before beginning to load responsibilities onto his shoulders again. Unfortunately, there just doesn't seem to be any peace to be had in his processor.

He hears her voice before he sees her, and for once he feels a bit less irritated upon opening his optics. He'd been reclining on the berth without much effect, but now he rises into a seated position - to reemphasize that he can, more than anything else.

His expression is difficult to read as he looks at her. It's not the anger of the night before, or the low burning frustration that he has been addressing just about everything else with. It comes across as just...blank. The easy tells of Orion Pax are gone, his guards are up, and his processor is, as ever, a mystery.

"Arcee," he says, and though it is not quite friendly, it is perfectly civil.

[deadpartners]

It's strange, how in a few short months Arcee had become so accustomed to Orion's mannerisms, and the staunch stoicism of Optimus Prime is almost arresting. She doesn't quite stiffen, but there is a sense of an aborted gesture on her face, a look that scuttles into something military and diligent, standing tall.

"It's good to see you, sir." There's no shortage of truth to that, and Arcee suddenly finds it difficult to moderate the warmth in her voice. She'd never been cool or curt with Optimus, they'd been close in a way, but nothing that rivaled the particular closeness she'd had with Orion. When she thinks too hard about it, she realizes she can't quite remember how she'd used to speak to Optimus in moments of quiet.

"How are you feeling?"

[thanksoptimus]

"I am recovering," he says in a level, but tired, tone. He immediately decides to take that as a question of his physical health and nothing more. He is not sure he has the words to describe how he is feeling emotionally.

Optimus and Orion both had always been the reserved sort, but never actually oblivious to their own emotions. Orion had been uncertain, he could remember that more freshly than ever. But Optimus had never considered himself to struggle with his own emotions, or to have a difficult time understanding what he was feeling.

That's all changed now. He can't possibly measure his internal reaction to the sight of Arcee, not through all this anger and loss. Does he feel different? From the last time he was Optimus? From the last time he was Orion?

Though there has always been much that Optimus Prime didn't know, he had always known who he was. He is not certain that that is the case anymore.

He feels everything and he feels nothing.

He glances away, for only a moment.

"...Thank you for assuming command in my absence," he says. "I have no regrets in my decision."

[starscheme]

It's not surprising that, in the mayhem of the Autobots return to base, the active decision may have been made to just leave Starscream to stew in his stasis while more important matters were dealt with. Or maybe they just forgot about him. Who can say, really?

The point is that Starscream has been out cold since Ultra Magnus so suddenly took off the night before, unable to wake on his own and battling strange, sub-conscious processor quirks the whole time.

When the effect is lifted and he can finally command his own body once more, he immediately jolts upright into an awkwardly seated position on the floor. He shakes his head with a groan, which quickly turns into a growl when he tries to flex his wings only to find that their lateral movement is greatly restricted, which prompts him to remember just where he is...

He struggles to his feet and strides over to the containment field with determined ferocity to see who has come to rouse him. "Next time, a little warning before knocking me unconscious might be a nice- Orion?!"

It sure looks like Orion. It would have to be Orion. Right?

...man, he sure hopes it's Orion.

[thanksoptimus]

It isn't Orion.

Instead, Optimus Prime stands on the other side of the containment field, his arms crossed over his chest. If his mannerisms don't go a long way to show Starscream how incorrect he is, his manner of speaking will.

"Starscream," he says, and that's it. No direct confirmation, no further taunting, just a dagger glare that Orion Pax could never quite pull off and just enough rope for Starscream to hang himself with.

[starscheme]

OOoooooh no.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Slowly, steadily, both sets of wings droop down out of sight, and he can feel his spark twinge in shock. "O-o-optimus Prime!! You... You're..." he drums his clawed fingers in the empty air and glances away, and then back again, trying to think of something appropriate to say here that might save his aft.

"I knew that with the information I provided, there was no way your Autobots wouldn't succeed! Welcome back." He flashes a broad, but ultimately unconvincing smile. His anxiety is clearly showing around the edges of it.

[thanksoptimus]

It would almost be funny, if Optimus was the sort of guy who liked jokes. He's not. Starscream's scrambling does absolutely nothing to convince him, and it shows.

"You attempted to make me your prisoner. You turned me over to those that would torture and kill me." His words are as hard and cold as the metal that makes him. "Do not try my patience with further deceit."

[ultramatum]

Ultra Magnus had taken up the rear of the procession back to base, and was the last to arrive, pulling up behind the other bots and transforming, the Forge tumbling from the passenger cabin of his alt mode. Taking stock of their small team, it was clear they would be very busy recuperating from this battle, both physically and emotionally.

He vented a large sigh, wincing as the movement caused a shooting pain from his torso. Ratchet had done a quick field patch job on his sword wound, but it was only a temporary fix. Enough to keep him on his feet, anyway, one hand pressed against his wound, the other still carrying the Forge, weighing down his weakened left side.

Once he was certain the others were following Optimus' hastily given orders, he limped after their commander.

"Sir. Perhaps I may be of assistance?"

[thanksoptimus]

Optimus's fury has been near palpable, ever since he curbstomped Megatron, but as Ultra Magnus approaches he collects himself for a moment, and vents very slowly and carefully. His optics fall to the wound at his Second in Command's side.

"You will be, Ultra Magnus," he says. "But first I would like to be certain that your wounds are tended to. Ratchet will have a long night ahead of him, but it would be best not to agitate your injuries in the meantime."

Pot, kettle, black, anyone?

[ultramatum]

Magnus can hardly speak against Optimus on this matter, considering he had done the exact same thing after the last fight with the Decepticons, but it's also going to take more than that to get him to back down on this matter. He lets the Forge set gently on the floor, managing to stand a little straighter and doing his best to hide any sign of additional pain.

"I believe Ratchet's efforts would be of greater help treating those with more serious injuries than myself. I assure you, I can manage until he has seen to the worst of our number." He didn't say outright that he felt Optimus fell in the latter category, but the implication was there.

[thanksoptimus]

Optimus can't really argue with that part. He is presently on his feet and conscious due to some kind of pixie dust and nothing else. Almost every plate on his body creaks when he moves, and his torso has been beaten the point of cracking metal in places. There is a hairline fracture running up the side of his face plate.

He feels it, too. He feels awful. But his processor feels so much worse that he's almost forgotten how much his body hurts. All he can think about is bringing some order to this situation, and then maybe sitting down.

"I will report to Ratchet after I have..." He looks around, with bleary optics. "When...everyone else is...where they need to be."

[positiveenergy]

It’s early the next morning when Drift notices that Ratchet’s not in the medibay, or at least not anywhere nearby, and he takes the opportunity to slip out of the ship. Hopefully unnoticed. Not that he’s exactly stealthy about it either – his injuries have been attended to, although they’re still far from being completely better, so his gait is stiff and awkward as he moves.

But he’s determined to find Optimus – to seek him out rather than the other way around. The last thing he wants is to be is an inconvenience on top of everything else.

Still, walking across the base wears him down quickly. The previous night had been rough – Drift had been in and out of consciousness for most of it, and there’re still sharp points of pain across his body. Soundwave’s attacks had been vicious, and Drift had taken the brunt of them. Even so, he finds himself more emotionally drained than anything - almost sick with guilt now that everything’s settling down.

When he finally does spot Optimus, Drift hesitates in his approach. He’d repeated everything he’d wanted to say over and over again before he left, but…now that he’s here…None of it feels right. The words sound rehearsed, even in his thoughts, and Optimus deserves better than that.

He straightens himself up before walking closer, and tires to maintain a careful distance when he speaks. “Commander...?”

[thanksoptimus]

Optimus has spent most of his time recently in the medibay as well, but it's only now that he has been out and about a bit. Checking on criminals, evaluating resources, the like. He is still looking to be in quite poor condition, but he's recovering. He is all too eager to be as busy as he'd like.

When Drift approaches, he looks to him with a cool, distant expression, like he is in business mode and isn't in the mood for any messing around. He is still walking with a limp.

"Drift," he replies. It's obvious Drift has something to say, and he's going to let him.

[positiveenergy]

Optimus’ distant demeanor doesn’t come as a surprise to him, though that doesn’t make it sting any less. His own expression is somewhat neutral in attempt to suppress the weariness - hints of it still showing through regardless. Drift’s about to ask Optimus if he’s feeling alright, but it’s clear as day to both of them that he’s not. So instead, he elects to just skip to the point.

“I, umm…I’ll…try not to bother you for too long.”

It’s hard to keep his optics from shying away. He’d been expecting the truth coming out to be something of a relief, but it’s only intensified the guilt, if anything.

“I just…I don’t want to sit around and make excuses about what’s happened. No matter the reasons, I still abused Arcee’s trust.” He shifts on his feet – clearly uncomfortable, but managing to maintain a steady gaze. “Any punishment you think I deserve, I’ll accept it. No arguments.”

[thanksoptimus]

Optimus vents a weary sigh. They are both very tired and sore, and with Drift it is much easier to accept his earnesty. He's already thought about this, at least, and he knows enough to know Drift did not intend to disrespect her lead.

"...You will remain on field duty, but in a probationary capacity. You will require explicit permission to leave camp for any purpose until otherwise stated. Understood?"

Is that it? It seems like that's it.

[thanksoptimus]

Ratchet's order of bed rest didn't last long. It seems like Optimus just woke up broken that morning, though a lot of it is that his first conversation upon waking seemed to end the day preemptively, and the ones that followed it didn't much help. He's felt listless and hollowed out for most of his waking hours. During the afternoon he had fled the medibay to check on a number of things (nothing too labour intensive) before eventually returning to rest again.

He recharges late into the evening, but when he wakes up he still seems so weary.

He hasn't been very talkative unless very directly engaged, and besides that he's been shying away from socialization. The rest is interspersed blank stares into space and quiet moment of apparent frustration, both of which he tries to act as if weren't happening if he's questioned on it.

Now he gets up from his berth, just long enough to wander to the medibay's door. He end up standing there for some time, staring out at the night sky with a deep pain in his optics.

[asafepairofhands]

"You should be lying down," Ratchet says quietly, coming up to stand at Optimus' elbow. "You pushed too hard, after you acquired the Matrix again."

He makes no move to actually force Optimus to sit back down, or go anywhere at all--he just stands in semi-companionable silence, leaning against the doorjamb and looking up at the sky, watching Optimus out of the corner of one optic.

[thanksoptimus]

"I know," he says faintly, not quite looking away from the scenery yet. His body is improving with rest and repairs, but the fight with Megatron at the end undoubtedly made his condition far more lingering. He couldn't have conceived of doing anything else, in those moments. "I was angry. Too angry."

He's come to the point where he can label some of his emotions, after a long day of wondering. Earlier, he was incapable of even doing that.

[asafepairofhands]

Ratchet's lips thin slightly and he drops his optics from the skyline, looking down at the ground, if not up at Optimus quite yet.

"Who are you angry with?" he asks, not entirely sure he wants to hear the answer but knowing he needs to ask.