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Forbidden Bond	By : Supermoi Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 2813 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to hasbro/Takara. I don,t make any money from it, it's purely a fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2: A shameful secret revealed

One week passed and again Optimus noticed very soon that something was not quite right with him.

Now, exhaustion itself was not a very worrisome symptom, especially after a long and frustrating battle with the Decepticons and the following debriefing, but even before he had had problems to concentrate and had seen everything like through a haze for a couple of days now. In addition to that did he feel tired and drained – well, at least more than usually – and that for no apparent reasons. It was probably only because of the long vorns of practice he had in hiding his own fatigue – one could say he was a real master in this art by now – that no one noticed so far, but still this wouldn’t have been enough to overly bother him. The exhaustion could have just as well been a sigh for him that he had strained his reserves too often lately and should take a day off or something, but that wouldn’t explain the strange fluctuations of his spark he was also experiencing. It didn’t seem to be a serious glitch, the orb just pulsed a little stronger than before and a bit off rhythm and felt weird in general, but something like this was not to be taken lightly. The only reason he actually hadn’t consulted Ratchet about it until now was because he feared the CMO could be able to tell he was bonded; maybe not to whom – he didn’t allow himself to become that paranoid – but the question would come up at one point, that much was sure.

The Autobot commander laid fully down on his recharge berth, off-lining his optics.
Maybe if he could pinpoint since when he had these symptoms he would be able to find the source for this if he was really lucky even a cure without having to bother their locale medic, but before the red and blue mech even noticed it he had slipped into recharge.

A burst of emotions from Megatron’s side of the bond – he really didn’t want to know what exactly happened to make the other lose control over the link they had learned to keep shut most of the time, although he had a pretty good idea seeing that today’s battle had ended in favour of the Autobots – made the Autobot partly on-line again and in that short moment he decided his fear about being discovered as the traitor he felt he should be labelled as could burn in the Pits. He would go and consult Ratchet about his problems as soon as he was fully rested – after all hadn’t all scans something to do with spark readings or something like that – and he really couldn’t afford to collapse in the middle of the battlefield, next time they had a faceoff with the Decepticons

With that thought he finally slipped fully into recharge, one hand protectively covering his chest as well as the spark inside it and, unbeknown to him yet, also the tiny speck of life that was slowly growing next to it, gaining strength with every pulse of the Optimus’ own, steady life-force.

*~*

To hear Ratchet yelling at the twins – for the fifth time this earth week already and it was only Wednesday – was balsam for Optimus Prime’s wrecked nerves, as were the familiar sounds of a loud double clang and yelps of pain. As long as Ratchet was yelling and throwing tools everything was within normal parameters, at least as normal as possible within the Ark.

Knowing the routine the Autobot commander stepped out of the way just in time to not be overrun by the infamous troublemakers on their mad escape from their medic’s wrath, his tools and his infamous rants.

“AND IF I SEE YOU IN HERE ONE MORE TIME BECAUSE OF YOUR RECKLESNESS, I’LL REFORMAT YOU INTO TRASH COMPACTORS!”

Smiling amused behind his battle mask the red and blue mech entered and found Ratchet grumbling and cursing the twins’ very existence. In fact was he so engrossed in his mumbling that he missed his commander’s entrance completely until he cleared his vents to make his presence known to the ambulance.

“Optimus!? I didn’t hear you enter. Damned twins.
Sit down; what can I do for you?” the medic asked in a friendlier tune than he had used with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, but still grumpy. The Prime took no offence at that. They knew each other for a very long time already, even for their race, and Ratchet was always grumpy, but that didn’t change that he was the best medic of all Cybertron.

Still Optimus found it difficult, embarrassing even, to talk about his current state. He was the Prime for crying out loud; he wasn’t supposed to sit in the med bay with something other than a gaping hole in his chest or a missing limp or worse, but it couldn’t be helped. He really couldn’t afford going into battle weakened even if Megatron wasn’t after his spark anymore – he already had it after all and the termination of one meant inevitable also the death of the other – but the prospect of talking with the medic still filled him with an instinctive fear and he knew he was going to regret coming here, but he managed to keep himself in check, praying it was just some stupid virus he caught somewhere.

“Prime? You still with me?” the medic interrupted his thoughts, a hint of worry resonating in his tune. Usually his commander didn’t just space out.

“No ... yes ... I er don’t feel well lately. It’s probably nothing, but I… I want you to tell me what in the Pit is wrong with me!”

Ratchet frowned and the larger mech ducked embarrassed about the sudden outburst of anger. These mood swings were just another symptom and rather awkward, too, but the medic seemed less angry about his outburst then concerned; after all was Prime usually personified calmness, stern and firm, so to see him act so out of character before was almost frightening.

“I’m sorry, Ratchet I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“No harm done. Now sit down and tell me what’s wrong while I get my scanner.”

Optimus complied meekly, describing what he thought to be symptoms, watching with growing irritation how the medic’s expression turned from mildly concerned to surprised, only to change into really concerned. He didn’t say anything, through, only nodded in understanding and ordered his superior to lie down so he could run a deep scan of all his systems. What he found didn’t seem to satisfy him at all, because the red and white mech shook his head disbelieving and got another scanner.

Apparently he got the same results from it, because the expression of disbelieve stayed, alternating between the two scanners and the Prime.

“How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?”

“For a couple of days, maybe a week; why?” Optimus asked, a little frightened by the medic’s attitude, but Ratchet shrugged it off.

“I ... I need to have a look at you spark, just to make sure. Open your chest plates, please.”

If anything the request only worried the Autobot leader even more and he had to bring up all his will power not to shrink back. The fear the medic could find out about the ... activities he had been part of for a couple of months now just by looking at his spark returned full force, but what choice did he have? Refuse without any reason, or at least any reason he was willing to share, would only make it worse, so hesitatingly he activated the internal command to split his chest compartments.

True to his words did Ratchet only look, starred actually frozen in his stand, before getting a magnifier lens. The red and blue mech was relieved at first; Ratchet hadn’t said anything so far, so it seemed very unlikely he already knew about the unholy bond he shared with his nemesis, but that didn’t rule out the possibility he would find out and if it wasn’t that what else could have possible shocked the medic so much that he just told him to close his chest again and leaned against one of the other berths?

“Well, what’s your diagnosis? What is wrong with me?” the larger mech broke the uncomfortable silence nervous, startling the medic.

“Wrong? No, nothing is wrong; in fact, I would say you are of best health, but I have to congratulate you. Did you take lessons from Jazz or Mirage? You sure got good at hiding; no one noticed until now.”

“Noticed what? What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, you can hide, but you are still a miserable lair and the evidence are against you, so who are you seeing?”

“I see a lot of people every day; you were at the officer meeting, too” replied Optimus as calmly as he could, but he knew it was in vain with his voice half an octave higher than usually.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Optimus, you know exactly what I mean! So, who is your bonded? Someone I know? Well, of course it’s someone I know, has to be since we’re slagging stranded on this planet.”

That was the moment Optimus Prime decided he had the right to finally panic. At least his ... affair… with the Decepticon leader wasn’t revealed yet, but he was but a thought from having his cover blown and what in the name of all that was good and holy had made Ratchet asking him that in the first place? His cooling systems were already running wild – blessed be the day he had let Ratchet talk him into an upgrade with more effective and silent vents – but he wasn’t sure he could take much more of this.

“Slag it; why is it so important if I’m meeting anyone or not? Will you tell me what the Pit is wrong with me or do I have to ... do something to make you tell me?” he not only jelled, but exploded, jumping up and knocking over the berth in the process, not caring in his sudden anger that his articulation wasn’t exactly the best and it was in general a very stupid thing to shout at their medic, not to mention threat him, but the answer he got was like a slap in the face and made him calm down again very fast.

“You are bearing, Prime. These symptoms are typical and there’s already a little orb attached to your spark visible. You’re going to have a sparkling and I really would like to know whom I can congratulate for messing up your processor so much that you decided not to tell me you are bonded. I’m the slagging CMO, who am I supposed to do my job when I ... Prime?”

Prime didn’t listen anymore; around hearing “bearing”, “you” and “sparkling” his CPU had stopped to process all audio-visual input and he really wished he would have had frozen up completely that moment, because it would have sparred him the terror running through his frame.

It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t, but Ratchet would never joke about something like this, so it had to be true and now that he knew what it was could actually recognise the strange fluctuations of his spark as a second, much weaker beat.
He was carrying a sparkling. He was carrying a fragging sparkling, but not just any sparkling, no, it was Megatron’s sparkling. What, oh what in the name of Primus had he done in his existence to deserve this? He surely was no saint, but nothing he could remember ever doing deserved such a punishment. First the irreversibly bond to his worst enemy, now he was also carrying his sparkling; that ... that was just not fair!

Optimus couldn’t help but started to sob silently, curling up in a tight, shaking ball. The shock numbed him to a point where he didn’t notice the tears that first burned in the corners of his optics then ran down over his battle mask anymore and he didn’t notice Ratchet kneeling beside him, trying to snap him out of it. In fact he didn’t process anything until he on-lined his optics again without remembering to have off-lined them in the first place and found the medic still trying to calm him down, fear and deep concern apparent on his faceplates, but also relieve that he was coming around again, while Prowl kept his concerned expression.

“Optimus, sir, are you all right?” asked the monochrome mech when he saw his commander reacting to his surroundings again, even uncurling a bit.

“I’m… better, thank you, Prowl. What are you doing here?” the Prime asked back as neutrally as possible, as if he never had had this emotionally breakdown.

“I called him” Ratchet admitted, visible unwell that he had broken his honoured medic-patience confidentiality, but he had good reasons to.

“He’s your second-in-command, you were freaking out and with the prospect of this happening more often from now on he needed to know.”

Hidden behind the (almost) ever present face mask dread washed over the red and blue mech’s face, but it must have been visible in his optics, because for a moment Ratchet averted his optics.

“What… What did you tell him?”

“Everything I know. He needs to know what is going on just in case and you know it.
Do you think you are able to fill in the holes now and tell us who is the co-creator of our little problem here or do we have to guess first?”

For a moment Optimus felt like throwing another fit, but he was too exhausted, barley able to sit up on his own and lay his head on his folded arms on his knees. He sighed, realising his dirty little – well, not so little anymore – secret couldn’t stay a secret any longer. They already knew everything except the designation of his bonded, but ... he was worried about the consequences if he revealed that last part of the puzzle. Prowl, as his second, would have had the right to strip him of his position, brand him a traitor and throw him in the brig – slag, his foolishness to allow these feelings for Megatron to control him alone was enough for that – but what would happen to the unborn then? If he kept that part to himself the sparkling would be safe for a while longer, but that only meant to delay the problem and so many more would start to pile up then. He wouldn’t put it behind Prowl and Ratchet to try and find out who he was bonded to for safety and health reasons and they soon would find out it was no Autobot, not to mention that Megatron would probably want to at least see their creation and he didn’t have the right to deny him that wish, as much as he disliked the thought, and ... no. He had to come true now or the problems would pile up to a mountain he couldn’t overcome anymore. He was already was at his limits as it was; he couldn’t get this through alone, so he less said than breathed the designation that had been his doom and watched out of the corner how Prowl got an expression as if his CPU had just crashed and even Ratchet didn’t seem to be very far from it.

The Prime waited just long enough for them to process the information, but not long enough to give them the chance to say something, before he slowly explained how it had come to this, taking how hurt, concern and worry passed over his subordinates’, his friends’ faceplates.

“But… Why?” the tactician finally asked after a very tense and long silence.

“I… I don’t know, really. It just happened. You can’t imagine how much it shames me, but it can’t be undone. I have committed a shameful act of treason and I’m ready to bear the consequences. Do what you must; what I’ve done is unforgivable” he replied, now much calmer than before. Prowl sighed heavily and the Autobot commander braced himself for the question that was inevitable to come.

“Prime, did you ever ...?”

“No! I never revealed anything concerning the Autobots to him. We did what we had to in order to stay sane, but I never told him anything in any way, neither did he” Optimus interrupted, unable to hear the rest of the question asked out loud. To his surprise Prowl simply, but honestly stated that he knew and added after a moment that he had to ask, but that seemed to be all for him. He would take no further actions on this matter; for now Prime would remain Prime, but he would have to work hard to prove himself worthy of that position again, before Prowl, before Ratchet and before himself, but the medic had still another question about how to proceed from here on and it wasn’t one he found easy to voice.

“Optimus, there’s always the option of termination. It’s risky for you, too, but ...”

“No” the red and blue mech replied firm, covering his chest unintentionally, but not less protective. “It may not be a wanted life, but a life it is nonetheless. If it extinguishes on its own it can’t be helped, but I can and will not allow you to harm the unborn. Every life is valuable and the mistakes of its creators are not the sparkling fault. Denying it the chance to live just because of its origins would be against everything I have, we have ever stood for and it’s my creation, too. I can’t let that happen.”

“Are you sure, Prime? I don’t like the thought either, but ...”

“I am sure, Ratchet. I can face the consequences of my foolishness.”

“Not to mention that risking the Prime’s life is not an option in the first place” the SIC added in a neutral tune and the medic complied, glad to be spared that gruesome task. They already were just so few left of their kind and it really wasn’t the sparkling’s fault that its creators happened to be sworn enemies on different sides of a war.

Unbeknownst to the three officers a dark shadow rose and sneaked through the ventilation shafts and out of the Ark, back to its master.

*~*

With rising interest Megatron watched the conversation Ravage had recorded. The only other mech in the room was his communication officer, Soundwave, but the blue painted mech was far too loyal to him to say anything of what he really thought about the new situation. He just shut off the holo-screen and made sure no one would find out about this as long as his lord didn’t want them to, while the Decepticon leader leaned back in his throne and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling of his base.

This was indeed a very interesting, although also a little frightening development and certainly explained what had had his bitter enemy so frightened that he broadcasted the feeling through their bond earlier. Megatron had to admit it had concerned him for a moment – everything that frightened Prime held after all the possibility to be dangerous for him, too, but that they had accidently created a sparkling surely hadn’t been among the things he had imagined, although he found the thought intriguing.

The silver mech had long since played with the thought of giving an heir to his empire, but that now his very own arch enemy would give it him to him was ironic to the same percentage as it was worrying. He probably would have to kidnap Prime before their creation was even sparked in order to protect it from the influence of these weaklings. It already would be one of them to one half, but with proper upbringing and education he was sure he could correct that and Prime had some features he wouldn’t mind his sparkling to have, too. Still he would have to act fast. It had been a week since his last meeting with Optimus, so he had maybe another eleven to twelve weeks left to set a trap and capture him before it would be far too dangerous to expose Optimus and the unborn to so much stress and he didn’t want to risk his heir’s health. He would have to make sure to build a proper proto-form, too. Since Prime was already nurturing the little spark it would have been his traditional role anyway, but he also was the one with the better access to the necessary parts thanks to the space bridge, although it was a pity he had no real medic and programmer to check the proto-form. The Constructicons were good enough to repair them, but sparklings went far beyond their programming and Soundwave could only do so much. Maybe he should consider “borrowing” the Autobot medic, too, but luckily that wasn’t a decision he had to make right now.

Plans started to develop in Megatron’s processors and a grin spread across his faceplates as he went through different scenarios of luring his mate into a trap and into his grasp. Even if it maybe would not be as much fun as it was in his imagination it would in any case be worth the trouble and the thought of the other’s expression when he realised what was going one made him snicker cruelly.
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Forbidden Bond