Chapter Text
Optimus didn’t come back as Optimus.
Of course, he was confused, lost and worried. He had spent a concerning amount of time working under Megatron as Orion Pax, and the entire window was gone from his memory. It was reasonable for him to be upset.
But beyond that, Ratchet had watched him move about the base, watched the way he held himself, the way he spoke, the way his optics narrowed. There was something odd about him. When Ratchet had touched his arm, welcoming home, Optimus’ gaze had been searing. The Prime watched him with intensity that he’d never seen; a shiver had tingled through his armor as their optics met. Optimus’ whirled and narrowed, and Ratchet wasn’t sure what was happening behind them.
And then the Prime was quiet. Another reasonable act, he had a lot of worries to digest. But he’d been lurking. Ratchet never had Optimus in the medbay so frequently. Optimus would just… hover. In the doorway, most often. Ratchet struggled to adjust to the watching optics. It was like being hunted.
Optimus had always stayed up late, to work, to patrol, to be useful. Not as late as Ratchet, but he’d be up well past their other teammates. But he’d never remained awake just to watch Ratchet.
Tonight was the same as any other. Optimus was leaning against the doorframe, and Ratchet was doing his best to ignore the feeling of being stalked. His leader was secretive when it came to his emotions and worries, this may have all been him trying to approach his dear friend, and struggling to. Ratchet had been turning this idea over in his head for a few nights now. If Optimus couldn’t approach Ratchet, then it’d have to be the other way around.
“Do you want to talk about something?” He didn’t turn around, just kept typing away. “I’m happy to listen.”
Optimus shifted his weight.
“I’ll be leaving for my room soon. If you have something to say, you ought to say it.” Ratchet tried again, his hands stilling. Again, he went unanswered.
Why was Optimus being so… sketchy?
The medic vented, and shut down the monitor. He padded to the doorway, where Optimus stood, regarding him with stony optics. “Last chance, you may walk me to my room.” Ratchet looked up at him, trying to soften his expression, but he was tired. “Optimus, really, you can talk to me.”
Optimus was silent for a moment longer, before he took a step into the medbay, the door sliding shut behind him. Ratchet opened his mouth to speak again, to offer to sit and chat, but he could only gasp as he was whirled around, and his back was slammed against the closed door. A strong arm planted on either side of him, he was trapped between Optimus’ broad chest, and the wall. He watched his reflection in Optimus’ windshields for a moment; his optics were wide. He craned his neck upward, sucking in a breath and holding it.
“Optimus..?”
The optics drinking him in had an unfamiliar glint to them, and he shivered under the gaze. Optimus leaned down towards him, and seemed to breathe in the air between them, not unlike a predator. Ratchet’s tanks churned as the arms on either side of him slipped down his sides, taking his wrists, and pinning them to the wall on either side of his helm. He opened his mouth, and Optimus growled, optics narrowing.
Had Optimus always been this big? He’d never been on the receiving end of the Prime’s strength. It must be terrifying to see him advancing in the battlefield.
Ratchet’s spark pounded like it wanted out of it’s casing, and his breath hitched as Optimus stooped lower, his lips brushing Ratchet’s cheek, inching towards his mouth until something snapped in him, and Ratchet’s glossa was suddenly being suffocated by an invading one. It was paralyzing, to be trapped and vulnerable. He remained still as Optimus explored, domineering and rough. Ratchet’s wrists were denting under the strong grip, but he didn’t dare complain.
He yelped as Optimus bit down on his lower lip, and he tasted warm energon. He was breathless as the Prime pulled away, licking his lips in a hungry way that made Ratchet’s servos shake. “Let's sit together, Old Friend.” Optimus whispered, and his voice was silky and predatory. Ratchet flinched as the door snapped open; Optimus had hit the button. He was dragged by the wrist in the direction of his room, and he thought rather frantically as they moved. He wasn't going to resist, it wouldn't do much good. Optimus was much bigger than him; he'd always been grateful for the Prime’s strength, but right now…
He also wasn't in any rush to give Optimus a reason to harm him. He didn't think that Optimus would ever, but this… this wasn't him. There was something very wrong.
His back landed onto his berth, and he took a long shaky breath, wishing his spark would quit pounding as Optimus crawled over him, watching him. "So submissive," the Prime murmured, as his denta traced Ratchet’s audial. "So pretty…" Ratchet shuddered as a cable along his neck was peppered with soft kisses. "Will you tell me to stop?" A whimper left Ratchet’s lips as Optimus bit down, and he felt a trickle of energon leave the mark. "Or will you lay just like this, and let me have you?"
Ratchet closed his optics and chewed on the inside of his cheek as Optimus withdrew, afraid to look into the searing optics. He was kissed again, just as domineering as before. He could taste his energon on Optimus' glossa.
The Prime's hands finally became involved, and Ratchet tried to relax his frame as his hips and thighs were grabbed and stroked, and his aft became a grip hold. "Are you frightened?" Optimus whispered against his lips. "Answer me, Old Friend."
Ratchet didn't look at him. He was thinking, fast. But he'd happily answer this question honestly, regardless of what Optimus would do. "I never wanted it to be like this. " He murmured.
His neck was being kissed again, and Optimus was inching downward. "You've wanted me?" He purred.
Not like this. Ratchet opened his optics and stared at the ceiling. His chest received little attention, Optimus was exploring his thighs with his lips. "This isn't you."
Optimus scoffed, and it was a foreign sound. "Am I not a disciple of Primus?"
It clicked in Ratchet's helm. He understood what was happening now.
A cry of pain left him, and he flinched as Optimus left another bite mark on his inner thigh. Now it was Ratchet’s closed panel that Optimus explored, and Ratchet squirmed at the way his body responded in kind. For the first time, the urge to kick or strike possessed him. This was going to go too far if he didn't stop it now.
He let his sparkchamber snap open, and the room was bathed in soft blue light. Optimus froze, and Ratchet closed his optics.
A few moments of paralyzing silence passed, and then Optimus was kissing him again, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. "So this is what you want." The Prime rumbled. Ratchet inhaled softly, and Optimus' chestlating shifted open. When their energy merged, he gasped. What should be benevolence and warmth was sinister and dark, and it was suffocating. Ratchet again resisted the urge to struggle. "My submissive little medic… You'll give everything to me, won't you?"
As Optimus' conscious touched Ratchet's, surrounding it, there was a change. Ratchet let out his breath as he felt what was Optimus sort of… fizzle out? He found himself digging through Optimus to find that warmth he'd been expecting, through the maze of darkness that was Optimus' current psyche, and then… he found it.
And Optimus was clambering off of him, stumbling off the berth and backing against the door, optics wide. Ratchet breathed a sigh of relief, sitting up.
More silence, and this one was worse. Optimus covered his mouth, and his hands were shaking. Ratchet was bombarded with pure terror, and he realized very quickly that it wasn't his own. "It's okay," he whispered, like he was speaking to a frightened animal.
As Optimus lowered his servos, Ratchet noticed the trickle of energon down Optimus' chin, and glanced down at his bite marks. "It isn't," Optimus' voice shook. Ratchet had never heard him so… scared.
"I know what happened, I know that it wasn't you." Ratchet inched towards the edge of the bed, but didn't stand. He worried Optimus would flee.
"It was me, though," the Prime stared down at his trembling servos. "I… I'm so sorry…"
"When you used the Matrix to trap Unicron," Ratchet spoke gently. "You bared your spark to him, to push him back with the Matrix. I think he lashed put as he was beaten, and I believe that just a little part of him wound up inside of you, sealing itself in as the Matrix gave out. We woke it up when we reintroduced the Wisdom of the Primes, the… stench of Primus. " He quoted the chaos spirit, watching Optimus' reaction. "You weren't acting on your own accord, you were under his influence."
"Unicron doesn't want you, I do," Optimus' voice cracked. Ratchet frowned at the sound. "That wasn't his doing."
"Don't be ridiculous." Ratchet chastised. “You would never hurt me, Optimus, I know that.”
“I already have.” The Prime’s optics watered when he looked at his medic. “And now… Primus, Ratchet, we’ve merged. I never meant… To force you… And now you’re trapped, you didn’t choose this-”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Optimus promptly shut his mouth. Ratchet could feel his turmoil, twisting and rolling in his chest. “I did choose this. You didn’t force my sparkchamber open, I gave it to you all on my own. I thought that a merge with an uncorrupted,” he winced. That was the wrong word to use. “...spark would restore the balance, level out the energy, and… bring you back.”
“You were right. You always know what to do.” Optimus leaned against the door, covering his face. “But at the cost of yourself. I’ve forcebonded to you, and… and I’ve hurt you.” Ratchet recognized the tremble of silent sobs behind Optimus’ hands, and he slowly rose from the berth. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I couldn’t ever ask that of you, but know that I regret this… more than anything.”
The medic approached him, reaching out and pulling his hands away from his face. “Don’t cry, please. You didn’t force me to merge with you, I initiated it.”
“To save me.”
“And I don’t regret it. Believe me, this isn’t the way I wanted this to happen, but I promise you, I’m not angry, or scared, or sad. I’m quite content to have you in here,” he touched his chest, where he felt Optimus’ hurt pulsing. “I want you too, Optimus. And if all it took was a merge to keep the real you here, then I’d do it as many times as I needed.” He reached out, and cupped Optimus’ cheek, wiping away a stream of tears with his thumb. Optimus winced, and pressed his arms to his sides. He was scared to touch Ratchet. Ratchet wondered for a moment if this would be overstepping. “I’ve thought about you pinning me to the wall on many nights… Except it was you in my fantasy, not that other one.” He watched Optimus’ face, and how it hadn’t changed from frightened. Optimus was always quick to beat himself up, of course it would take everything for him to forgive himself. He couldn’t see through the fog, couldn’t see that Ratchet was just fine. “Am I clear?” Ratchet said firmly. “I’m in love with you. You didn’t hurt me. I would like you to take a deep breath and sit down with me.”
Optimus timidly nodded, and let Ratchet sit him down at the edge of the berth. Ratchet used the corner of his sheet to wipe his face, clearing the tears and the energon. “I’m sorry.” The Prime whispered.
“I forgive you.” Ratchet replied with a gentle smile. He stroked his leader’s helm, and Optimus resisted leaning into it. “You feel so warm.” He gestured to his spark. “And safe. Like a blanket.” He took Optimus’ servo, and guided it to rest above his spark. “Do you feel me?”
“Like a pillar.” The Prime answered immediately. “Sturdy and supportive, and… Generous. Gentle. A little standoffish.”
Ratchet cupped his face again, in both hands. “May I kiss you?” He whispered. Optimus tensed, but answered with a nervous nod. He was hesitant when Ratchet kissed him, his shoulders were tight. He seemed to think touching Ratchet would initiate disaster. He would get over that. His medic was gentle, stroking his face and helm, engines humming pleasantly. “Do you promise to forgive yourself?” Ratchet whispered, parting their lips for a moment. Optimus hesitated, but under the warning look, he uttered a soft yes. “Do you promise me that you’ll pin me against the wall again soon?”
A moment of silence. “If you will let me.”
“Optimus, I will beg you to.” Ratchet’s spark swelled at the smile he received. “There’s that handsome smile.”
“Do you think… that part of me is gone?” Optimus asked seriously, after a moment of thought.
“I’m not sure. I know that if it does stir, I’ll feel it, and it can be as simple as another merge.” Ratchet shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like much of a problem.”
Optimus heaved a long sigh, nodding. “Well… mazel tov.”
“What the frag does that mean?”