These Pretty Little Lies

Chapter 5

Optimus was the last to walk through the groundbridge. On the other side he saw his teammates gathered in small clumps talking. Injuries were present but thankfully nobody had died. Ratchet was going around taking note of all the injuries. He knew, from experience and time, that the medic was ranking them from least severe to most severe. He, himself, only suffered minor scratches and dents. Nothing that really required medical attention. Of course, he wished to talk to Ratchet before the medic got too busy. He needed to confide in his oldest friend about the things burdening him.

So he then found himself approaching the grumbling mech. Awkwardly standing to the side as Ratchet worked. Finally he gained the courage to speak.

"Ratchet?"

He almost flinched at how fast Ratchet had turned toward him. The key word in that statement was almost. He didn't actually flinch.

"Optimus, what do you need?" He asked with a sharp sigh. Ratchet eyed him suspiciously, his optics flicking between the datapad in his servos and Optimus. Ratchet might have sounded tired as slag but he still wished to know what had been bothering his oldest friend.

"I wanted to speak to you about the battle. I'm worried something might have happened while the entire team was distracted." Optimus murmured softly. He subconsciously fussed with his servos, fidgeting with them as he spoke. A nervous habit still present even after all this time.

"Why? I'm quite sure nothing could've happened Optimus. Now go get a cube, refuel, and go relax for a little bit." Ratchet ordered gently. He gave him a slight push, urging him towards the energon storage. That was one conversation suddenly shut down, despite his, Optimus Prime of all mechs, attempts at a painfully weak rebuttal.

So reluctantly he went. When he glanced backwards, Ratchet had resumed going through each of his teammates and checking them over. He silently wished he was the one reassuring his team that they were okay. That they would live. Instead he led them into battles that could leave one of them dead.

He entered the room withholding energon and grabbed a cube, holding back a sigh. Relaxing was a fairly difficult thing for him to attempt to do. The closest he ever got to relaxing was going to Griffin Rock. Even then he usually had to help out with rescues. Not that he was complaining. He wasn't. He just wished his role was different. That the circumstances were different. That their lives weren't close to offlining and their race close to extinction.

Energon shouldn't have been something they had to fight over. He shouldn't have had to witness colleagues and friends fight and fall by his own side. It still stung his spark.

Optimus attempted to distract himself when he stepped into his quarters. Attempted to hide the fact he was still bitter and angry towards what he could've had.

This was becoming pointless. They had harmed countless innocent people and lives. It wasn't fair to those caught between them.

A knock at the door to his quarters startled him out of his little daze. Optimus almost dropped his cube, his gaze snapping up to the door. His thoughts silenced themselves, leaving him wondering who was choosing to seek him out.

Whoever was on the other side didn't wait for him to respond. Only moments later, a bot burst into the room. It took him a moment but he quickly took notice of the fact it was actually Ratchet.

"Ratchet, what is it? I doubt it's been that long." Optimus murmured. Ratchet sighed, shaking his helm. A dry laugh escaped the medic after the tired gesture was made.

"Optimus, it's been seven hours. I was worried about you. Your energon levels have been on a steady decline." Ratchet paused, looking at his servo and the mostly full energon cube. "You haven't been eating? Optimus, let those thoughts rest. How many times have I told you nothing could've been done to avoid this?"