.// of combination

[ c. ] Blue optics dimmed, softening around the edges as Optimus Prime stepped away from his terminal. Megatron inclined his helm in silent thanks, moving closer in a few short steps. His arms, still crossed over his chassis, falling to rest at his sides instead. “I thought you’d appreciate the term more than me simply stating that I am concerned.” 

He shook his helm, snorted in amusement and then attempted to meet Optimus’ gaze. Megatron had the ability to grow intensely fond of others in a short time. Meeting this kindly-inclined alternate, so wonderfully different from his nemesis, sparked a similar attachment. A desire to see Optimus thrive.

“There are two ways to warp your perception of someone. By demeaning them, considering them your lesser, or by placing them upon a pedestal and making them untouchable. I would rather not lose touch with the one Prime I actually like.” Megatron’s frame slotted into place beside the other’s, his wings unfurling to carefully wrap around them both. “Behold: a hug! And Primus didn’t even strike us down for it.”

{☀️} ;; There was humor to be found in this Megatron’s bluntness; it was familiar in a way that Optimus felt to be comforting, somehow, just as... no. “Concern is one thing, but when it’s misplaced, well... alright. You’re right. Perhaps I’ve been holding myself hostage in here, as more than one of my associates has called it, but... sure. I’ll take the thought of you actively considering my well-being over a vague thought any day.”

     Mirth spread through the Prime’s field as he stepped forward, catching the flier’s gaze almost as soon as those piercing blue optics settled upon him. They held a depth that so few others could, with his soul pouring forth through every word and gleam. Never once had he felt negatively intimidated by this light-bound alternate of the mech he had sworn his life to destroying--as a matter of fact, there had only ever been comfort found in his presence, a delightful air that seemed to set his own mind and spark at ease. This Megatron was, in the simplest of terms, a beacon of happiness.

     How did he ever get so attached to a dark and dismal fool like his tainted Optimus Prime?

{☀️} ;; The commline in his office did not flash very often; it was used as a secure channel, only to be accessed by the most highly-ranked officers: himself, Jetfire, and Ultra Magnus among them. And so, to see it signalling almost as soon as he had returned from his year-long journey, it was almost startling to Optimus. Who would be calling this line, expecting an answer? And how?

     Yes, it had indeed been over an Earth year since it all ended, hadn’t it? Since the blasters had turned from Autobot and Decepticon to fire upon the god of Chaos and Entropy itself, who had mocked the leaders of the factions until they realized his only weakness: faith. And it had been that same faith and hope that had pushed Galvatron into the depths of Unicron’s soul, fearful of change and the future ahead, driving the Prime off into the furthest reaches of the cosmos, searching, wondering:

     [ What could I have done to fix this? ]

{☀️} ;; «I would hardly call someone that has been touched by the Matrix a “Pseudo Prime,” anonymous: that is dismissive of their strengths, capabilities, and any other factors that may have drawn Primus to their sparks. From personal experience, I find Rodimus in particular to be incredibly capable and exceeding competent in his work. Just because we have disagreements doesn’t mean I do not recognize that.»

{☀️} ;; “Firestorm, please tell me you haven’t committed arson.”

{🌟} ;; “Well, that depends: What are you suggesting we team up for, exactly?”