TITLE: Quiet Turbulence of Thought
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
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved


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With command comes responsibility.

With responsibility comes loneliness.

Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, knew that only too well. It was lonely at the top, as the humans tended to say, and it was oh-so true. He was alone and he was lonely. There was an invisible barrier between him and his men. It was the barrier that came with the position of leadership and command.

Jazz was his trusted second-in-command. They had spent countless hours together, going over strategies, discussing the war, the loss, friends that came and were taken away, and more. They had shared memories good and bad, but there was still this barrier not even Jazz’s easy going way could cross. Jazz was generally good-natured and able to take things in stride; it was what provided a necessary contrast to the more serious demeanor of Optimus himself. He knew what he had in Jazz and he valued it, be it the happy-go-lucky attitude or the serious First Lieutenant.

Ironhide was one of his oldest friends. The weapons specialist was as trusted as Jazz and he had been the one to teach Prime a trick or two in the time they had known each other. Older than most, Ironhide was a survivor of the first attacks of Megatron’s forces, had fought his share of battles, and he had seen too many die in the effort to preserve their homeworld. He had his own burdens to bear, had seen things he had never shared with others.

Sometimes, well, a lot of times, Optimus mused to himself, they didn’t see optic to optic.

Ironhide was a tough old warrior, hard-headed, trigger-happy, and he despised the Decepticons for what they had done. Different political factions aside, he would have been able to live with them if they hadn’t started a war that had destroyed everything anyone had ever held dear. His tolerance of Barricade in their midst showed that Ironhide wasn’t blindly hateful of the Decepticons. But he would rather first shoot and then find out about the ‘Con’s motives later.

Ratchet used to be a politician - Optimus Prime's chief liaison to the High Council of the Ancients. His calm manner and convincing speeches had made him very successful. He had tried to find a peaceful solution to the civil war and when it had failed, he had become a battlefield medic – to ease the suffering in a different way, he had told Prime back then. He was in his own personal Pit every time he lost a patient, be it friend, neutral or foe. Ratchet took everything he did seriously and loss was not acceptable.

Bumblebee was one of Prime’s lieutenants, a mech who had commanded his own troops on Tyger Pax and had nearly died in the effort to protect the Allspark from falling into Megatron’s hands. While Bumblebee wasn’t one of the strongest Autobots, he made that up with agility, cunning and a penchant for being very, very lucky. Prime had chosen him for the Tyger Pax mission because of Bumblebee’s potential. He was a friend, but Optimus knew little about this friend’s inner workings. His real inner workings.

It was strange to think that a human, Sam Witwicky, who had known Bumblebee for just a fraction of the time Optimus had, knew more about the yellow mech than his own commander. Even before Sam had become more than a friend, they had shared things.

Back on Cybertron Optimus Prime had had a partner. Elita-One. A partner of so many years, not spark-bonded, but his equal and his friend and his trusted companion. She was a leader in her own rights, she was respected and well-liked, and she had been his sounding board too often. He needed to talk about decisions, about problems, run them by someone not directly involved, and Elita had always listened. She had asked specific questions, had set his head on straight again, had gotten him back on the right track.

Elita had gone underground during the last stages of the war, leading a special forces group to infiltrate and sabotage Decepticon strongholds. Optimus’ last contact had been years before leaving their dying world in search of the Allspark. The good-bye had been brief but intense and they knew there was a good chance they would never see each other again.

Fatalities of war. Risks. An uncertain future every day.

Many had lost friends, companions and partners. Optimus knew of Chromia and Ironhide. While their friendship had been a lot more loose than him and Elita, the weapons specialist had missed the other mech. She had been part of Elita’s team.

Ironhide had found someone else.

Optimus gazed out over the quiet desert, listened to the sounds of the night. It was something he had gotten used to by now. He was now on an organic world and the sounds and noises were different. Everything was different, but it was also fascinating. No world he had ever been to had been like this.

Ironhide had found someone new here. Someone not of their kind. A human being. Well, Will Lennox was far from human any more. He looked human, but his genetic code, his whole body structure, and his abilities were far from it. Ratchet couldn’t pinpoint what he was, so they called him a hybrid.

Lennox’s change through the Allspark had been an accident, one that had weighed heavily on Prime. Humanity had suffered a lot because of them already, and it had never been his intention to physically alter any one of their allies. Now there were two. Will had been the last one to be forcefully changed. Sam Witwicky had been the first. His change had been more subtle.

And he had become a partner to Bumblebee in turn.

Not that either Ironhide or Bumblebee really showed it openly. They cared about their friends, but intimate contact was kept under wraps.

Sometimes Optimus wondered how much of a liability the humans were to his warriors. Those were the times he had to think as a commander, not a friend. He had to consider his team’s safety, their existence, their ability to fight and survive. Lennox was a soldier. He had been trained by the human Army and he had survived against a Decepticon attack without being anything special or powerful. Humans tended to be a lot more resilient than one would think of them.

Now Lennox was more. His protoform shape was more enduring than a human body and he had already shown that he could fight with it. Ironhide had seen to his training.

But what if the Decepticons surprised them? What if Lennox was injured, kidnapped or killed?
Then again, what if it had been Chromia or Elita in the past?

He sighed.

Partnerships were a liability, but they were necessary for all of them. Having a partner meant so much. Seeing Ironhide trust in the hybrid to let himself fall was a small miracle and it only made them both stronger.

The same was true for Sam and Bumblebee. Their relationship was defined by Sam’s technopathic abilities and his close connection to Bumblebee because of it.

Could have been Barricade, a dark part of Optimus reminded him with a nasty tone.

He felt a shudder run through his energon pump.

Barricade had been and still was Sam’s ‘instructor’ and trainer when it came to technopathic attacks and defense. For some reason he had volunteered to help out their human ally and he had done well with it. Sam was strong.

Optimus didn’t fear that the young human would spy on them with his abilities. They were a curse, just like they were a gift. Sam had also vowed never to invade any of their minds without permission. He would never breach privacy and Optimus trusted him. Technopathy also had the drawback of migraines and Sam wasn’t really the masochistic type.

A barely perceptible noise alerted Prime to the presence of someone else. He turned his head a fraction, blue optics scanning over the intruder. Smaller than him, colored completely in silver, Jazz was a shadow in the darkened office. The specialist and saboteur could move noiselessly if he wanted to, not unlike his spark-bonded partner, who was a well-versed hunter and feared shock-trooper. Jazz was also Optimus’ second-in-command and he had a knack for coming to talk to his leader when Optimus was in one of his thoughtful, contemplative moods.

Like right now.

“Got word back from Ironhide. He’s done with updating security,” Jazz reported. “Looks like we now live in an impenetrable fort not unlike Main City on Cybertron.” A small smile played around his lips. “Barricade already mentioned volunteering to test it.”

Prime mirrored the smile. Ironhide would probably blow a gasket if the former Decepticon so much as openly mentioned that, which he would. Optimus was sure. Those two got along like a house on fire and it would never be a smooth cooperation. Ironhide mistrusted Barricade on the basis that he was a Decepticon and Barricade didn’t trust Ironhide for his own reasons.

“I think we’re well-armed against a possible attack from the outside,” Jazz added. “Ironhide severely limited access to the inner systems, as well as defense and security, implementing several barriers. If it doesn’t have an Autobot spark or a similar signal, it won’t get scrap.”
Which excluded Barricade.

“What about the humans?” Prime asked.

“Sam and Will have a very unique genetic ID. The Allspark left traces that Ironhide implemented and which serve to identify them to the system. Ratchet’s working on something for the rest of them.”

Optimus nodded. “Thank you.”

Jazz regarded him solemnly. “We nearly lost three people.”

“Yes.”

Two of which were close to two of his men.

“Optimus?”

“Yes, Jazz?”

“They’re not a liability.”

Prime’s optics narrowed a little. Jazz was no telepath, but he knew his leader. He knew him well.

“Sam and Will. I know their connection to their respective partners could be viewed as a liability, but it isn’t. If you’re looking for weak links, Cade and I are more in that category than Will or Sam. Losing a spark-bonded is more devastating than anything, Optimus.”

“I know.”

“Losing a partner… Bumblebee and Ironhide would grieve, but it wouldn’t destroy them.”

“I understand that, Jazz.”

Though if his suspicions were correct, Ironhide and Lennox were sliding closer and closer together to forming something akin to a bond.

“And having an alien life form as a partner isn’t too bad. Barricade’s one to me, too, sometimes.” The last was said with a chuckle.

Prime smiled briefly. “I don’t worry about the difference. I fear the similarities. Will’s change made him into one of us at least partly. He’s a hybrid. His changes enabled this partnership to be more than a brief interlude in Ironhide’s existence. They will be together until one of them perishes by force. For Sam and Bumblebee there is no guarantee. Sam might not be human any more, at least genetically, but no one can tell if his life-span is longer than a human’s.”

“It won’t change a thing when it comes to the relationship. Bumblebee cares deeply for him.”

Like Optimus had cared for Elita. Leaving her behind had weighed heavily on him for the past millennia. He had had a mission to complete and he would continue protecting this planet, but he missed her. He missed her quiet input, her counter-balance to him. Sam wasn’t a mech, he hadn’t gone through their war, their experiences, but he wasn’t a complete outsider either. He knew more about the Cybertronians because of his technopathy than any human ever could; with maybe Will being an exception.

“You never saw my bond to Barricade as a problem,” Jazz reminded him quietly.

Optimus hadn’t. He had known quite early in the stages of the bond, had been aware that Barricade was a Decepticon, but he had trusted in Jazz and he had hoped the spark bond would keep this from blowing up in their faces. It had been an elaborate game played by both factions and it had nearly ended disastrously here on Earth when Megatron had killed Jazz. But it had gotten them Barricade on the Autobots’ side.

And there he had remained.

“We know about spark bonds. Connecting with humans…”

Jazz grinned. “Ironhide’s not the most experimental of bots, but he’s been known to make an exception.”

“Like Will.”

“They are very much alike, Prime. More than we see.”

Optimus nodded. Both were warriors, both had known loss, both had survived battles, but Ironhide was a mechanoid, a robotic life form, and Will Lennox was human, an organic. They were physically different and maybe it wasn’t important, but maybe it was.

“Optimus… do you object to our connections?” Jazz asked openly.

“How could I?” the Autobot leader asked.

“You think the humans are more of a risk than a Decepticon bonded to your second-in-command?”

“No. They are different. I fear this difference will come back and bite us.”

“Life means risk,” Jazz said, sounding almost philosophical.

Optimus knew that only too well. He lived with that risk every day. He had lost because of that risk and he had mourned. Friends and comrades, teachers, mentors, and a partner. He couldn’t fault his men for seeking companionship, even in alien life.

“Thanks, Jazz,” he only said.

“Hey, it’s my job.”

His second-in-command grinned and left the office almost as quietly as he had come. Optimus remained in the almost dark room, watching the desert as night fell, his mind going over everything again and again.

No, there was no fault in seeking companions among alien kind. He just dreaded the fall-out. He dreaded the return of the Decepticons. He dreaded a war on this planet that would cost so many humans their lives.

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Barricade was outside, arms crossed, leaning against the sturdy hangar wall. His red optics narrowed a little as he watched Jazz walk toward him.

“What’s up?” the Solstice asked lightly.

“I should ask you that. Has he finally started to doubt?” Barricade asked back levelly.

“Optimus? No. Just general thinking.”

“About my alliance with the Autobots. About Sam’s connection to Bumblebee. About Lennox and the growing bond between him and Ironhide.”

Jazz tilted his head. “Wow, Cade. Hidden talent squared.”

“Shut up, Autobot.”

Jazz smirked. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He leaned against the wall as well, shoulders almost touching. “As are you. Prime’s not doubting your allegiance.”

There was doubt reflected in those deep red optics.

“Optimus wonders about relationships between two alien races.”

Barricade snorted derisively.

“My thought exactly. In a way, at least. Sam’s good for Bumblebee and vice versa. As for Will and Ironhide… that’s very special. I think there’s something there, something that could be a bond if Will were a mech. For now it’s something still growing into it all.”

“It’s not bad,” Barricade said softly.

“Really?”

It got Jazz a glare. He chuckled.

“Having a partner you can trust isn’t wrong. Companionship can be an advantage.”

“Thinking battle strategies?” Jazz teased.

“Not all battles are fought in a war on the battlefield,” was the rough reply. “Sometimes the need outweighs the risks.”

Blue optics met red and Jazz felt a little tremor pass through his spark. He knew what lay in these words, what kind of confession. It was huge. Immensely huge.

“Spark bonds are rare. Connecting to another spark like Ironhide did is special,” Jazz finally said. “Alien or not, they are together because they share something.”

Barricade grinned evilly. “In their case… often.”

“Barricade!” Jazz exclaimed, laughing.

The smile only grew. Jazz was tempted to make a quip about quality and quantity, but he left it at that. Barricade was a voyeuristic mech and Ironhide wasn’t the one to openly show his affections; well, neither did Barricade.

“You on patrol tonight?” the silver Autobot asked instead.

Barricade nodded.

“Want some company?”

“Would you go away if I told you so?” was the rhetoric reply.

Jazz grinned. “Nope.”

“So why ask?”

“’Cause I’m a polite bot.”

Barricade snorted and transformed. “Never noticed.”

“And here I thought you were a sensitive one.” Jazz transformed as well, engine idling.

Barricade rumbled and pulled out without another word. Jazz just followed, radiating amusement. He knew he couldn’t ease Optimus Prime’s mind, neither about their future on this planet, humanity in general or two humans in particular. Jazz could never fault either Prime for his worries nor the two other mechs in question for their need for companionship. While mech relationships were so very different from human ones, they also served the same basic purpose: someone to trust and someone to share himself with.

Prime understood – and he worried.

Jazz understood in turn – and accepted.