Transformers Prime: Stay Tuned

Chapter Fifteen: Grand Finale

 Optimus had been through a lot, he had made a lot of tough calls, he had been the one in charge when everything went wrong. It was him that had to take charge, it was him that had to always know what to do.

He had no fragging idea what he was supposed to do when Ratchet went into labor. When Optimus saw the puddle of fluids staining the sheets, he entered anxiety mode without Ratchet having to say anything. Ratchet spent the first few minutes laughing at Optimus' panic, before the pain started, and he had to focus on the fact that he was going to give birth. Optimus called Knock Out, and the red medic was bridged to their home immediately.

Ratchet whined about having to give birth in their berth; he didn't want to ruin the nice sheets. He and Knock Out argued over that for a bit, before Ratchet relented.

Optimus was pacing and desperately trying to be helpful, but his servos were shaking. He kept stuttering. It was pathetically adorable to see the brave leader of the Autobots, reduced to a nervous mess. It was a good distraction for Ratchet; Knock Out encouraged him to harass Optimus throughout the labor, to keep his focus off of the pain. The Prime realized he wouldn't be much help outside of talking to his mate, so he sat beside the berth, holding Ratchet's servo and admiring how damn brave Ratchet was being.

It all went well, and before long, the screech of a newborn filled the room. Knock Out cleaned the sparkling off quickly and passed him off to Optimus so he could finish with Ratchet. Optimus took the tiny life into his servos, and the anxiety and panic was gone, replaced by absolute adoration. The little mech was writhing in his blanket, whining, optics squeezed shut. He was white, with orange and red detailing along his plating. Optimus couldn't describe the wave of joy that passed through him; he was so happy that the sparkling resembled his carrier so much. He watched the newborn's face tighten and slacken as he adjusted to the outside world, before his optics slowly opened. They were out of focus as the little mech tried to take in his surroundings. Optimus found himself looking into optics almost the same as his own. He smiled wide. This is exactly what Ratchet wanted.

"Are you done yet?" Ratchet was snapping at Knock Out.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Knock Out snarked back. "Frag, hand him his sparkling already, before he rips my helm off."

Optimus knelt beside the berth, delicately laying the mech onto Ratchet's sparkchamber. Ratchet's maternal instincts seemed to click in in an instant, and his irritation was gone. He smiled, stroking his sparkling's cheek gently, engines humming a soft tune to soothe him. Optimus didn't even realize that he had been crying, it wasn't until his vision was blurry that he wiped his optics. He sat down on the berth beside Ratchet, draping an arm around him and pulling him close. "You're a sire." Ratchet whispered.

"You're a carrier." Optimus pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"He's so damn cute." His mate laughed quietly. His optics were teary. "I love him." He smiled as the sparkling looked up at him. "Hello there, Sweetspark." The sparkling made a gurgling noise as he pet his helm.

Optimus rested his helm on Ratchet's shoulder, watching Ratchet's gentle servos stroke his sparkling. The two were watching each other, as the sparkling drew the connection to his carrier. Optimus' field wrapped around them protectively, venting happily. The little mech wiggled in surprise at the sensation, wide optics finding Optimus. Ratchet laughed.

"That's your sire, Little One." The medic purred.

Optimus stroked his son with his field affectionately, laying it over him and his carrier like a blanket. The sparkling reacted curiously, squeaking. "You look just like your carrier." He rumbled softly. "You're beautiful, just like him." He reached out to touch his helm.