TITLE: Prime Numbers
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis


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“Prime, hm?”

Rodimus Prime didn’t know what he had expected, but this reaction was relatively mild for someone like Tony Stark. Sitting in the garage that adjoined the downstairs lab, the mech watched his former charge closely. In the years he had spent with Tony he had learned a lot about the human and he knew how to take certain moods. Stark was a genius and his mind was faster than most. He had created incredible things, but also terrible weapons.

Stark Industries had turned around from weapons manufactory and was by now an invaluable ally to the military in a totally different way. Stark distributed Cybertronian tech in hybrid form to the world and he had supplied the technology of the arc reactor to the Ghosts.

Tony was also a good friend and someone Rodimus cared about. He knew the sentiment was returned, in Tony’s very specific way, and they had gone through a lot of highs and lows together. That Hot Rod had been the heir to the position of Prime had struck the young mech out of the blue and he had been rather reluctant, close to unwilling, to leave Tony. But he had had to.

His parting gift to Jarvis had been a sneaky one. At least if Tony ever found out about it. And knowing Stark, he would. Rodimus had given the AI more autonomy. While Jarvis was already far beyond what Tony had ever dreamed the AI could be, he was still limited in his decisions. Rodimus had made sure that Tony still had a watch-dog and that Jarvis could hold his own against the man who had programmed him.

Now he was back.

They had come together in the past months anyway. Australia had given them an opportunity and they had fought side by side against the Predacons. By then Rodimus had known about Will and Sam as fellow Primes, though through different means than his own ascension. He had also known that Tony carried the same heritage inside him ever since the accident with the Extremis.

Extremis had been manipulated to interact with Cybertronian P-Cells, the structures that allowed the protoforms to create their camouflage shells. But together with the Extremis nanovirus they had only ever functioned as an undergarment for the Iron Man armor. What had tipped the mechs off as to what could be hiding inside Stark had been the glyphs on the cocoon that had formed when he had been ‘recreated’ by the Extremis. He had gained something akin to immortality; Extremis kept regenerating him. It had been an issue a while back and Rodimus wondered how much this would come into play again.

Humans weren’t meant to live practically forever, Tony had told him. And it was true. His own race was accustomed to their life spans; humans weren’t. Tony had dealt with the news in his own way, but whether it had really been worked through or not was anyone’s guess.

Now Rodimus had decided to be the bearer of the latest news himself.

And Tony was taking it rather well.

“Prime,” the industrialist repeated thoughtfully. “Well, that might explain a few things.”

Alarm raced through Rodimus’ systems. “What things?” he demanded.

Tony gave him a cheeky grin. “Out comes the worry wart baby-sitter.”

“Tony, what things?”

It got him a shrug. “You know about this.”

He held up a hand and it was immediately covered by the Extremis undergarment, dark gray, almost black in places, and forming the reddish-orange nodes Rodimus knew from their own protoforms. Tony stopped it at his shoulder, wriggling his fingers.

“And you know Scavenger and I worked on the whole subspace technology, right?”

The mech nodded. Sure he did. Tony was like a child in a candy store sometimes, and ancient technology was his latest sugar rush. Scavenger hadn’t really been surprised at how fast the human was able to work with the schematics and the old texts; he had been rather pleased, too.

“Well, I took it one step further a while back.”

The alarm rang shrilly now. “When?”

And why didn’t Rodimus know about it? Why hadn’t Jarvis called?

::I didn’t know:: the AI answered apologetically when Rodimus sent that particular question. ::Mr. Stark locked me out::

Well, slag!

“After I got back from the little hassle in Australia,” Tony said, smiling slightly. “And for whatever reason, when I looked at the old files, the gibberish started to make sense.”

Something shimmered around the Extremis-covered arm and within a fraction of a second, the arm was encased in the familiar Iron Man armor.

Rodimus knew he was gaping. Something inside of him whirred in surprise and he was scanning wildly. Of course the scans reflected back at him – Extremis was rather particular about that, almost finicky. Unlike with Lennox, though, Iron Man was the one immune to scans; Tony Stark wasn’t.

“How…?”

“I created a subspace pocket. Large enough to hide away the armor, too small for anything else. I can’t seem to enlarge it. I’m not sure whether this is linked to my own mass and size, or something else.”

Tony sounded like a puzzled scientist once more. He flexed his fingers and the repulsor started to glow.

Rodimus didn’t know whether to yell or to just shake his head. He decided on glowering at his former charge.

“What?” Tony asked, smiling. “It worked. Scavenger is already doing cartwheels and running in circles around the data. And if this sudden control over subspace is a Prime thing, well, that explains a lot.”

“A Prime thing,” Rodimus echoed flatly. “I don’t know about any ‘things’, but I know it’s you. Irresponsible and rash and not thinking!”

“Oh, I thought a lot about it. Aside from providing you guys with tech and knowledge, I spent some time thinking about this and I made it work.”

Blue optics flared. “What if it had gone wrong?! Ancient technology is barely understood by our own scientists! We killed people because of it! We lost people!”

“It worked, Roddy. Don’t get your exhaust in a twist. It worked and I can control the small pocket I created.”

As if to demonstrate the Extremis rapidly covered him and the Iron Man armor appeared like out of thin air. Rodimus knew he was staring and his mind told him that this was exactly what a protoform acquiring its camouflage shape looked like. Tony wasn’t really transforming, but he gave a good impression of it.

It all happened in one second. For the human eye, it was a blur. For Rodimus’ optics it was the same as when one of his own took on his camouflage.

“Easy,” Iron Man said, grin audible, with glowing eye slits.

Rodimus shook his head. “Times like these I feel that not being around you 24/7 is very healthy for me,” he said wryly.

“Oh, you do miss me!” Tony declared.

That much was true and he enjoyed their conversations from time to time. Extremis was quite helpful there, too.

“And did I mention that this isn’t really my armor any more either?” Tony added casually.
Rodimus groaned.

“It’s a mix of nanotech and hybrid Cybertronian technology. Must be because of the whole subspace matter,” Stark went on as if he was teaching a class and not talking to his friend about something so life-altering. “When I managed to get the armor into subspace the first time, recalling it took a while and what came back was changed. I displaced it again with an array of scanners attached and apparently subspace interacts with whatever happened to me, the whole P-cell/Extremis merge. Now that you say I’m a Prime… well… boom! There’s the first step to an explanation.”

“I really, really wish you wouldn’t do stuff like that,” the young Prime sighed.

“Well, bro, live with it.”

He gave Tony a narrow look.

“Seems like we altered humans all have some kind of ability given to us by the cosmic dice.”

“Cube.”

“Whatever.”

“Tony…”

The helmet opened, a smooth, totally non-mechanical move that spoke of the altered structure of the armor. Tony looked more serious now, almost thoughtful.

“Listen, what happened to me ever since Afghanistan… it’s had its good and its bad sides. Extremis took it all to the max. Getting ‘Prime’ dumped on me… so what? I’m not going to challenge Optimus to a fight about leadership; neither would I want your position, Roddy, no offense.”

“None taken.”

“I gather that Prime means something to you guys, but for me it’s like another Ph.D.”

Rodimus chuckled.

“I’ll take note of it, it’s part of me, and I can’t do anything about it, right?”

“Kinda.”

“Are we going to have monthly PA meetings?”

“PA?”

“Primes Anonymous.”

Blue optics flared with amusement. “No. Optimus might send you even more CCs than before though.”

“Not a problem.”

“And you might get some requests for mediations.”

“Not something I haven’t done before. So, no monthly meetings?”

“Not really. Maybe a conference call.”

“I’m cool with that.”

Rodimus nodded. “And we appreciate the help you’ve rendered to us in the past.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s the Prime speaking, right?”

The mech shrugged. “Gotta practice on someone.”

“Uh-huh.“

“So we’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be? It’s not your fault this happened. If the Allspark had a sense of humor, this is it. A very bad one. I can understand giving me some hard time to come because I tinkered with the P-Cells and so on. But Lennox was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Same with Sam. You… you had the wrong genes, or whatever it is that you have.”

Rodimus regarded him silently, seriously.

“But aside from the forwarded mails that bore me to tears, anything else?”

“Unless you start bonding with one of us, no.” It had been said in a light tone, but there was a serious note to it.

Tony frowned. “I’m not into mech sex, Roddy, as nice as you are. Best friends only. Whatever you read in the e-papers, blogs or chats, Tony Stark’s sex life isn’t that kinky.”

Rodimus chuckled. “Not that kind of bond. It seems that I can sense Optimus to a degree. Not emotions, just… like instinct. An awareness that he’s there.”

Stark looked at him intensely, but then shook his head. “Aside from what I can get from you through Extremis there’s nothing. Not a blip. What about Sam and Lennox?”

“Well, Sam’s a technopath and Will hasn’t mentioned anything of the like.”

“So hopefully that’s a mech trait and nothing we poor bastards are privy to, too.”

“Well, seeing what has changed already….”

“Ack, Roddy, don’t!” Tony exclaimed, holding up his hands in a warding-off gesture. “Don’t jinx it. I don’t need any more complications to my life than I already have. I like you. I respect Optimus. But I don’t need voices in my head.”

It got Stark a shrug. “Not a jinx. Things are fluid, in motion, and nothing we know now and hope for might be true in the future.”

“Still, no jinxing.”

The armor melted back into subspace, leaving Tony covered in the skin tight undergarment with the protoform additions. A shadow of a glyph hovered at his temple until Stark ordered the Extremis to free his head. Now he looked like a diver in a neoprene suit.

“So you came here to bring me the happy news in person?” he asked.

“Kinda.”

“I’m honored. Friends and all.”

Rodimus smiled. “That was one reason.”

“And the other?”

“Want to go hunting for some elusive signal?”

Tony’s eyes lit up. For a moment he looked distant as he used the Extremis to check on his calendar and probably inform Pepper that he wouldn’t be available for a while, which would send his assistant into a fit. Then he grinned.

“I’m all yours, Roddy. Where, who and what?”

“LA motor show, we don’t know, and we hope for one of ours.”

The undergarment disappeared and Rodimus wondered about the physics of it all, since Tony was back in his prior outfit of jeans and t-shirt.

“Don’t ask,” the billionaire said with a shrug. “I haven’t been able to explain it yet either.”

The young Prime transformed and opened a door. Tony slid inside, naturally taking over the wheel, and they left the underground garage, heading for LA.

“You know,” Tony said as they moved smoothly along the highway. “Five is a prime number.”

“Yes?”

“Optimus, Sam, Will, you, me. Five. We’re five Primes. Five is a Prime number. So is thirteen, by the way.”

“You have way too much time on your hands,” Rodimus muttered.

“Just saying.” Tony grinned, flooring the pedal a little more, going past the speed limit.

Rodimus sighed and slowed down again.

“Spoilsport.”

“Speed junky.”

“Mother-hen.”

“Accident prone adrenaline addict.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“And I grew up.”

“Riiiight.”

It felt good, Rodimus decided as they continued to bicker. It felt good to argue with Tony like that, to be Roddy, not a Prime, and it helped to know that they were five.

Like Optimus had told him: a Prime wasn’t meant to be alone. He didn’t lead alone; it was a council of more. They were five, a prime number, and Rodimus was convinced they would be stronger because of it.


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And now I can't get the PA meeting image out of my head:

Roddy: "Hello. My name is Rodimus. I'm a Prime."
Chorus: "Hello, Rodimus."
Roddy: "It's been six months since I was a normal mech."
*applause*
Roddy: "But sometimes I can't help wanting to be myself again."

*headdesk*