FIC: Ghosts
Title: Ghosts
Author: wicked3659
Pairing: Optimus Prime x Prowl
Verse: G1
Rating: PG
Prompt: Ghosts
Summary: Having spent so long fighting, Optimus couldn't help but wonder if there would even be a place for him in the world once it was all over.
Written for antepathy just because a little fic distraction never hurt.
Watching.
All he ever seemed to do was watch. He had waited on the sidelines for as long as he could remember. Watching, waiting to be noticed.
They both had their pasts, they'd gone through them together. Having close as a friend was better than not having him close at all. He couldn't help wondering though, if he'd ever noticed him looking. The sly wistful glances, the innocent brushes of fingers. Had he ever even suspected how he'd felt beneath, underneath the position.
Duty.
Both of their lives had revolved around their duty. Leaders of others, always having to present the best front to the rest of the Autobots. One through strength of his compassion, the other through the purity and solid foundations of logic. They worked well together, complimented each other, but oh how he wanted more.
To be closer, to feel the warmth of another once more. The loss of his previous love had torn his spark in two, yet he had been there. Steadfast, reassuring, constant. He'd never given up on him when all others had started to question his decisions, question his very sanity.
He had watched him take command, misdirect unwanted attention away from him. He had never questioned his loyalty, his indecisions, his self doubt.
Just how long had he spent wanting? He could barely remember. His old love still haunted him but when they were together, simply just discussing tactics or old times, that pain faded, it diminished to nothing more than a memory.
Did he feel the same?
He'd watched him go through his own loss, his own pain. Had had to endure it as he'd withdrawn and became a different mech. War changed everyone, in time but it had been the hardest on them. Never able to get close to another, too scared of losing yet another part of their spark, watching another love die.
Their ghosts forever lingered. Hidden in their sparks, or in the dark shadows of yet another lonely night.
Too much rested on their shoulders. The fate of an entire faction of Cybertronian followed them into war everyday. Risking their sparks for them, believing in them and their decisions, their missions. He'd watch them grow as soldiers, fighters and lovers. Many had found comfort in another, soladarity by sharing their spark with a chosen someone. No matter the cost if one of them was killed, they would be together. It was how they kept fighting, a long and angry war.
Was it wrong to want that for himself? Just one more chance at a brief happiness? A reason to keep fighting, to keep hoping. Someone to fight for? Someone to love.
"I thought I might find you here."
Optimus looked up sharply, so focused on his musings he hadn't notice Prowl approach. The mech lived up to his name that was for sure. "Prowl, I... " He shrugged sheepishly. "You caught me. I guess I wasn't in the mood for a party."
"Mm, I'm not that partial to them myself, but Jazz insisted." His door wings flicked outward and a subtle smile crossed his face. "And you know how Jazz gets."
Optimus smiled warmly, wishing that it wasn't hidden behind his ever present mask. "Yes, I do." He laughed softly, drinking the last of his energon, before standing and clapping a hand on Prowl's shoulder. "I suppose I should call it a night then."
Prowl tilted his helm, turning to follow Optimus's retreat. "Sir..."
"Yes, Prowl?"
A subtle frown creased the Praxian's brow, his piercing optics regarding his leader closely. He opened his mouth, before visibly changing his mind and shaking his helm. "Goodnight, Sir."
Optimus let out a soft sigh and turned away. "Goodnight, Prowl, thank you for checking on me."
Prowl watched him leave, his mind unsettled as soft words followed his leader's exit. "You're welcome, Optimus."
****
Lying on his berth, unable to rest; Optimus's mind raced with what had been, what was and what could be.
Sighing heavily, he sat up and rubbed his face plates with a weary hand. Glancing down at the palm, he thought of all the 'bots he'd sent to their deaths, all the Decepticons who'd lives he'd taken. His spark had no place for the love of another, only the ghosts that he carried with him. That he'd forever be burdened by.
A soft chime broke the sad silence of his too large room, with it's too empty berth. Getting to his feet, once again the picture of a composed leader, a Prime, he made his way to the door.
"You do realise what time..." He stopped when his optics came to rest on the familiar black and white frame that was permanently etched into his mind, his spark. "It is...?"
"Indeed I do." Prowl smiled softly.
It was a rare sight that made Optimus's spark flutter in his chest. "Then what...?"
Prowl uncharacteristically interrupted his leader before he could question him further. "I thought it was about time that we both stopped living in the past."
Blinking at his second with incredulous optics, Optimus could only gawp at him in disbelief. Even as Prowl brushed past him and swept into his room, he could still barely believe that he was really here. Did he hear him right? Was Prowl seriously suggesting what he had always hoped would be possible?
His optics focused on a white outstretched hand, his spark pulsing hard in his chest. Daring to look up, he was greeted with the warm azure glow of Prowl.
"I've allowed them to haunt you for far too long." Prowl's voice was soft, almost sad. "I'm sorry I didn't act sooner, I..."
"Prowl, what are you saying?"
That subtle smile brightened his tactician's face once more. "I'd hoped you'd realise it yourself in time."
"Realise what?"
"That you deserve to have everything that you're fighting for. Everything you want to give us. Let them go, Optimus. It's time to fight for what we have, not what we've lost."
Optimus shook his helm, unsure, insecure. Something he had never shown another since the loss of Elita. Only Prowl had seen him at his weakest. "What do I have, Prowl?"
"Me, you have me."
Optimus straightened and looked Prowl in the optic, his face mask retracting. "You never gave up on me."
Edging closer, his white hand clutching blue coming to rest over Optimus's spark, Prowl smiled up at his leader. "Never will."