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talesfromlissom · 6 months

Text

Lifetimes

Fandom: Transformers [ Prime ]

Rating: T

Characters: Optimus Prime

TW: Major Character death

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Summary: Optimus smiles sincerely, deeply, looking directly into your optics as you say this. “Promise. Promise to find me again,” He stops momentarily, his grip on your hand tightening. “Please.”

You just nod your head with a hum. “Promise.”

ALT [A03]

“I know, I know. ‘I’m sorry for throwing you through the ground bridge’. ‘I’m sorry for getting jacked without you’-” You cut yourself off, seeing the frown on Optimus’ face. “What’s wrong?” Optimus looks at the floor, face twisting while his teeth clench. The metal around his eyes bunches up, a pained expression on his face. He looks over your frame, bright blue optics settling on the mesh gauze around your side. He swears he can see the energon peeking through the seams. For a moment, he closes his eyes.

You can feel the surge of regret and other phrases through your bond, and for a moment, you say nothing. You then shake your head, shuffling around on the floor to face him fully now.

“No,” You start. “You’re not weak. I probably would’ve pissed myself if I had to stay behind like that.” You shake your head before jabbing a finger into his chest. “Just don’t throw me through portals if you’re not gonna follow right after, okay?”

Optimus’ gaze flickers down to look at you, the same expression on his face. “That…was not my intention.”

You’ve never seen him look this pained before. It’s almost suffocating. “I failed to uphold the promise I made,” He starts. “I-”

He stops once more, this time taking your hand in his. Your face softens at this, door wings twitching slightly. You don’t say anything at first. You’re not sure what to say, frankly.

Optimus uses a free hand to touch your cheek and caresses his thumb over your face, stopping midway.

“Prime? You know you can tell me anything, right?” You start. You return to the supplies but don’t let go of Optimus’ hand. It’s an opening, a chance to let Optimus talk. It’s a 50/50 chance that Optimus will, frankly. It’s anyone’s guess if Optimus ever talks about his feelings, especially personal ones. Even more so ones of doubt. Optimus hesitates for a moment, looking down at the floor again. “I…love you,” He says quietly. Silence fills the supply room again. “But our relationship is not…perfect.”

“So?” You reply, turning back with an amused expression on your face. “No relationship is perfect?”

Optimus shifts. “I…am not comfortable with our relationship. You are constantly getting hurt because of me and I-” He cuts himself off again, the other hand curling into a tight fist. “I want you to be happy, and that will not be possible if I am in your life.”

You put a hand over his mouth. “Ah! I have heard that since we’ve been at war thousands of times,” You interject. “I don’t care, Optimus. Even before you knew me, I was a magnet for trouble.” You shake your head. “We’re both magnets for trouble. It’s annoying at best, but I won’t break up with you because I got hurt.”

“I do not wish for you to perish because of my actions-”

“I’m not gonna die, Optimus.”

Silence fills the room again. “I love you, I truly do, but I-I cannot stay in this relationship. I am so sorry.” His tone is quite sad. He can’t even look at you while he says this. If he didn’t have more control over his frame, he’d be crying, begging for forgiveness, to forget this entire conversation. “You deserve better than me. Someone who is not constantly putting you in danger.” Your grip on his hand tightens. “Optimus, what-” “No,” Optimus whispers. “Please listen to me. I am not the right one for you-” “You don’t get to decide that.” You say, you almost snap it. Almost. “I know, I-” Optimus cuts himself off, hesitating again. “I know you love me, but I cannot bear to hurt you any further. I-” “Optimus, for primus sake!” You exclaim. “Where is this even coming from?”

Optimus is silent. He looks at the floor. “Then I shall be honest with you,” He starts. “I am no longer in love with you.” It hurts to say it, and it's a lie that he prays you realize is blatant.

You don’t, based on your expression. “What?” You ask softly. “You’re not-what-why-why are you? When did this even-”

Optimus looks down at his hands. He wants to say something else but knows it will be less believable the more he speaks. He isn’t sure if he wants you to believe him or not. Part of him does if it saves you from the heartbreak. This war will end in one of two ways: his death or Megatron’s. There’s no alternative, no signs of peace. Too much blood has been spilled for forgiveness to be considered.

You swallow thickly at this before your shoulders slump, expression going slack, blank even. You sigh, crossing your arms. “Okay then,” You reply, tone flat. “If that’s all you had to say, then fine. We’re done; good luck with that uh…other person.”

Optimus is failing you. He knows he is. He’s a coward and hates himself for doing this to you and himself. It's the only way, his mind tells him. He has to keep you safe, above all. He has to keep everyone safe. Megatron is cruel and vindictive. The warlord had a habit of killing those Optimus showed affection towards. He can’t think about Ironhide or Prowl. “(Y/N)-” It’s the fact that you don’t even look like you care. “What.” You ask, counting the supplies again. You don’t look at him anymore. You can’t look at him anymore.

“I’m…I love you.” He says. It hurts to say it. It’s never hurt to say it until now. “I will…never stop loving you. I will always love you-” “Not enough to stay, though, right?” You snap. You stand now, handing the clipboard to Optimus. He wishes you shoved it into his chest.

He wishes you smacked him, screamed at him, cried, or did something other than accept this. You move past him.

“I-, wait-”

You stop, hands hovering over the button to open the door, looking over your shoulder—the blank expression on your face. You suddenly look exhausted, years older than you are. You don’t say anything, but he can tell you’re at least listening.

“Please promise to find someone better.” Optimus is desperate, and it's obvious. He clings to you like a drowning man. He’s always done this. He’s stuck to the ones he cares about lest they drift away from him forever, which most do, eventually.

“No.”

“No?” “Yeah, no.” You repeat.

“(Y/N), I do not have the strength to love you how you deserve.”

“So what?” You reply softly, squeezing the bridge of your nose. “I-” “I want you to be happy-” He interrupts.

“I don’t expect you to be 100% always.”

He’s silent, taking in the weight of your words—the truth. He meets your gaze for a moment before looking at the floor again. “I truly have found someone else.”

You seem to freeze at this. He isn’t sure if you believe him or not. He never gets the chance to ask. You just shake your head and walk away.

_______________

You are transferred to another base. A space bridge is secured somewhere along the line, and you leave when another base needs help. You never liked Earth, never seeming to make or have the time to see what Optimus saw in it. You two talk sometimes, but it's mainly just status reports.

Optimus cares too much. When the base gets too quiet and his chest too loud, he reads the reports repeatedly. He knows you wrote it. You use ‘just’ or the word ‘and’ too much while you write.

You stop sending messages a few months later. Intel says that the planet you were stationed on was overrun by Decepticons. The entire section of the earth goes silent for four months straight.

The following status report is positive. The Decepticons were chased off the planet. The losses were many, but the victory was well deserved, as small as it was.

He wants to tell you it was a mistake. He wants to say to you that he loves you still, that he was scared, that if the war ever ended–if he ever managed to kill Megatron, he’d come for him seconds after. He wouldn’t care if the energon was still on his hands.

The words don’t feel enough anymore.

_______________

Megatron dies, killed by Bumble Bee using the Star Sabre. They’ve won. They’ve won, and it doesn’t seem to fully settle in until Optimus waves Megatron goodbye and puts the Allspark in his chest. He feels its thumping in his spark, pulsing wildly. It hurts all the time.

He would jump into the Well; he even had a speech prepared. Ratchet had insisted on a celebration. He woke up in the med bay, with Ratchet begging him not to leave. To wait.

They could find a solution another way. A way where nobody died, where Optimus lived on the planet he fought so hard for.

More and more Autobots are returning to Cybertron, Decepticons with them. Forgiveness can be sought after.

He’s lost. Every arrival of a ship brings hurt. The Allspark’s pain is minor now, minuscule in the broader range of things. He thinks of you. He would have said that one more second of you would be enough for a lifetime, but he knows that’d be a lie. He’d get you, and he’d never let you go again, time be damned.

_______________

Your crew returns to Cybertron a few days after that; they make no mention of you. Optimus doesn’t ask. The ship looks like hot garbage, and the crew seems worse. A combination of Autobots and Decepticons, all wounded, all weary, all tired.

“We couldn’t leave them there.” You say to him, walking across the loading dock. You tie more of the ship to an anchor. “It’s not the Autobot way.”

Optimus just hums. He knows it's just them here, but the calm, monotonic voice you greet him with sends a shiver down his spine. “I thought you were dead.” He blurts out. “I am.” You reply, grunting as you tighten the rope to the ship. You grab another rope. The ship knows how to anchor itself due to its AI technology; everyone else is celebrating. You’ve never been one for parties, but why are you doing a task such as this on your own?

Someone walks past Optimus, straight into your frame. The Allspark sings as Optimus crumbles.

“How?” Optimus asks, tilting his head. He bites his tongue until it bleeds to stop from screaming out.

“A few days after I reported that the Decepticons ran off,” You reply again. “There was a mole; they snuck poison into my energon.”

A painful way to go.

Now Optimus crumbles. Nobody is sure why he cries.

_______________

The Allspark is extracted at the cost of Optimus’ frame. Transferring to another frame is strange. He feels young, some days old the next.

Cybertron flourishes. You stay by his side. Optimus sees campsites turn into cities. The world doesn’t need a Prime anymore, he concludes. He struggles to fit into a world of peace. He’s known violence for so long that he isn’t sure what anything else feels like. He’s forgotten what you feel like.

He sits on the roof of his cabin. A tiny shack in the crystal forests of Rodion. “If you were alive…what would you do?” He isn’t sure if your ghostly form will respond. You do most of the time, but sometimes you don’t.

“Honestly?” You start. Your voice sounds further away now.

Optimus is getting older, but you still look as young as ever. “I’m not sure,” You muse. “I probably would’ve wanted to have a family with you by now if you wanted.”

He can feel his spark hammer in his chest. “Would anyone accept it?”

“Pft,” You snorted. “Yeah, they would. I mean, what’re they going to say? ‘No, you cannot have children with your lover.’” You mock someone. He isn’t sure who.

“But…you would like that, correct? To start a family?” He doesn’t hear your answer due to how much his chest has started to ache. He can’t breathe. He’s never wanted something more than this; being denied it feels suffocating.

“Would you have accepted that idea…if…you were alive?” “Yep.” You reply, popping the ‘p.’ You look back at the stars. “2 sparklings would’ve been great. I’d hope they’d have your eyes, your smile-” You cut yourself off. “Slag, I’d hope they’d look like you more than me, frankly.” “They would have been beautiful,” Optimus admits quietly. His knees draw into his chest, cheek resting against his knee. He can almost picture their faces, what shade of blue their optics would’ve been. Their smiles would scream his face, but their mannerisms and nature quickly picked up on belonging to you.

“Yeah, they would have.” You whisper.

_______________

Optimus is getting older; he can feel his frame dwindling, his spark flickering. It doesn’t hurt physically, but mentally, it takes a toll. He knows death is a natural part of life, but that doesn’t make it less surprising. He doesn’t tell Ratchet; the medic is gone by now anyway. He doesn’t say to Ultra Magnus he can’t worry him. BumbleBee and Smokescreen are too busy. Arcee and Bulkhead are off the planet, and Wheeljack is also gone. He couldn’t bear to be without the medic.

Knowing that he’ll be gone by the time they arrive hurts.

He looks up at you again, sadness dripping from every word. He doesn’t have enough strength to move most days. Optimus lies in his bed in a dark room; the cabin is dirty, not filthy, but dirty in a way that he knows you would’ve complained about if you were here.

You feel young still, even more transparent. He’s forgotten what you look like.

“Why did you stay this long?” He asks quietly.

“I promised not to leave.” You say, voice soft, as if it's in another room or all around him.

Something cold touches his cheek. Optimus only sees the yellow and white spark before him.

“I remember.” Optimus nods. It hurts; he doesn’t want to think about his eventual departure. “Please stay.”

“Of course,” You say softly, tenderly. You’re becoming clearer. “Always.”

Optimus nods; he can feel his optics burning. He blinks a few times. Nothing comes. “What will it feel like?”

“Depends on how you go,” YOu reply with what Optimus thinks is a shrug. “It hurt because I was…well.. poisoned.” You pause. “You’re lucky, dying of old age.”

Optimus doesn’t have enough energy to chuckle. “Do you remember…when I first met you?” He asks softly. “I was nervous, and you were…you were just…”

He doesn’t finish.

_______________

Optimus wakes up in his cabin. He feels lighter somehow, younger, warmer. The house is clean, and the bedroom is different. It isn’t a tiny mattress in the corner of the room. It isn’t near the window facing the forest or skylight. It's bigger, queen-sized, and fit for two.

His mind is fuzzy while he sits up, the blanket slowly falling off his body. He sees you beside him; you are solid for the first time in those lonely 700 years. You continue to type on the laptop for a moment before he turns.

“Hey.”

His optics widen, and he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his features. “You’re not a ghost,” He starts. “What…happened?”

You say nothing, giving him a moment. It clicks. “Sorry.” You mouth.

“Is this the Allspark?” Optimus blurts out. He can feel his optics burn; tears fall this time.

“Not really, more like…something in between,” You reply. You wrap an arm around his shoulder. “It’s…more like a place to come to terms with dying.”

Optimus says nothing, looking at the screen on your laptop. You’re watching a video he doesn’t recognize.

“Then…we go together?”

“Yes,” You smile softly, kissing his forehead. “We can.”

Optimus sighs, his frame relaxing finally. He can feel his metal shifting, flattening itself against his frame in ways it used to before the war. “When we are reborn…will we meet again.” You shrug. “Maybe.”

The word hits Optimus; the implications send a chill down his spine so violently that he has to grab the blankets. “Will we find each other then?” He takes your hand in his own. You squeeze it.

“Maybe.” You whisper.

Optimus smiles sincerely and deeply, looking directly into your optics as you say this. “Promise. Promise to find me again,” He stops momentarily, his grip on your hand tightening. “Please.” You just nod your head with a hum. “Promise.”

__________________

' 'Till then, my darling, please wait for me Till then, no matter when it be Some day I know I'll be back again Please wait till then Our dreams will live though we are apart Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts Till then, when all the world will be free Please wait for me Although there are oceans we must cross And mountains that we must climb I know every gain must have a loss So pray that our loss is nothing but time ' '

- Till Then, The Mills Brothers (1944)

#optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #pls look at this #//my writing #was originally a patreon post but #i spent hours crying over it so #i am so attached to this man pls help

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