Trama Bonding

Adjusting

Hello!!! I have returned, shocking I know. I give you some light fluff, I promise more action coming in the next chapter, as I have figured our the next steps I want this story to go.  Also the song does not necessarily fit the chapter but I can't banish it from my mind either so, here you go!

P.s. I may redo some of my earlier chapters, as those are a bit rough, would y'all be down for that?

Optimus POV.

Only days after the Autobots moved to the Nemesis, we were on Cybertron. Ratchet, Knockout, and Shockwave kept the Omega Lock under their watchful eye while it was being used. Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Magnus, and most vehicons began construction on some of the more difficult-to-reach buildings and roads, a crucial task for the planet's recovery. The others were outsourced into scouting groups to survey and map paths for the Omega Lock and Nemesis, ensuring the safety and efficiency of our operations. I organized and oversaw the pairing of Autobots and Decepticons while Megatron kept his routine. I enjoyed staying on the bridge with him, watching Cybertron slowly recover.

Being bonded felt odd, a connection beyond words and actions, allowing us to share thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations. Sometimes, it is difficult to decipher what emotions and thoughts are mine, but feeling Megatron's presence was a great aid in easing my stress. It almost felt like he was purring, a low, constant buzz across the bond. I know he is content with how the war ended, though he is still wary. Whenever one of his Decepticons gets too rowdy or my Autobots too aggressive, I can feel him tense, and his mind begins to race with a million thoughts, outcomes, and solutions, or something small will come up, but the reaction is the same. He tenses when an Autobot passes him in the halls, something every bot struggles with now. I have been on constant alert, just to be sure. I trust Megatron implicitly because he has changed, and I see that, but I cannot help but be wary.

A gentle poke across the bond stirs me, and I look expectantly at Megatron. His gaze meets mine in a questioning sense, and I feel subtle concern flowing through the bond. I smile slightly and walk by his side, returning reassurances to him. He nods subtly, and we both return to our tasks.

All in all, I don't mind being bonded. How things have ended is the best possible outcome any bot could imagine. There is only one thing left to do to fully restore Cybertron: get the Allspark. The Autobots hid it. I am the only bot who knew where it was during the war, but maybe things are too new and raw to fully restore Cybertron. Yet, I remain hopeful that, with time, we will be able to restore our home to its former glory.

Perhaps waiting longer won't be too much of an issue. Suddenly, I became aware of Megatron's presence again, and a calm washed over me; I took time to steady my rapid thoughts, remaining focused on the maps the scouts had created and working on charting the path for the Omega Lock.

*smol time skip*

After a few hours, the suns of Cybertron begin to set, and scouting groups trickle back to the Nemesis, log their findings, and head to recharge. Between the scouting groups are the construction teams; Magnus gives us a quick briefing of any delays or accidents, and they head off to recharge. Once Megatron and I confirm through Soundwave that no remaining scouts are still out, the vechicons are dismissed, and new ones arrive to take the night shift. Unconsciously, I yawn, and a sudden, powerful wave of fatigue rushes over me. It is so powerful I have to grip my helm to stop the pain and center myself. In a moment, I feel a servo on my shoulder, and fierce concern flows through the bond.

"I believe it is time for us to retire, Optimus,"

Megatron speaks softly, no doubt sensing the helm-ache I have just acquired. I nod and turn to walk, regaining my composure, and Megatron follows quickly, concern seeping through the bond. The pounding of my helm lessens as we move closer to the berthroom. However, I turned to enter the library, I stood to the side so Megatron could put in the code.

"Are you certain you do not wish to retire?" Megatron asks, his voice indicating confusion and apprehension.

"I am; there is still one more thing we need to discuss before we retire for the night." I let certainty and love fill my being, and Megatron feels it from the shudder that rushes along his shoulder plates.

He puts in the code, and I watch it, logging the precious code. He lets me enter first, and I chuckle at his antics; he smiles in return, and we take a place on one of the plush couches. Apprehension stirs the air between us, mine and his. I breathe and begin,

"Do you believe now is the right time to retrieve the Allspark?"

He pauses and, in a moment, answers, "When would there be a better time? What's troubling you?"

"I am still worried about the tension amongst the ranks; perhaps it is best to wait a bit before restoring the well of Allsparks."

Images of fields stained with energon overflow my processor. A dreading feeling overtakes me, and I realize how delicate this peace we have obtained is. We have already lost so many, and the concern is maintaining the wire-thin calm we have obtained. Worry spills from every ounce of my soul. It would be so easy to misstep and ruin everything. I could lose Megatron again.

"I believe the bringing of the Allspark would help the tensions," A servo was placed on my thigh and my faceplate, "With more bots to speak to and teach, ours would not have to work so closely with their enemies of millennia. I will also bring hope; for a while, the shiny new buildings of Cybertron inspire the most, but our planet is still dead."

I take a breath, looking into my other half's soul; he has become more gentle, softer. He is returning to Megatronus, for which I am incredibly grateful. For so long, he has been overcome by rage, consumed in his quest for power, that he has lost the softer parts of himself and buried within. Seeing those feelings surface, even for a moment, reminds me of how far we have all come and how much Megatron and I have changed. I admit I have become calmer and happier, a rare sight for my bots. However, I did much of the same as Megatron; I was once cheerful and happy, but with war, things change, and I had to remove those emotions to lead better. I believe that every bot just needs more time to adjust; some still think the war is not over, or they are unwilling to stop fighting, a stubbornness Megatron and I are intimately familiar with.

"I believe we should wait, things are moving to fast, the bots need more time to adjust."

Megatron nods his helm at my words, "Perhaps I am too impatient for my own good,"

I chuckle, knowing full well that his impatience has led to many fights. He shoots me a warning glare and a growl, but I can feel no real menace behind it.

"But, I," He pauses, anxiety rising in his core, "I trust your judgment."

I sit for a moment, stunned that Megatron, after all these years, said he trusted me. I smile and reach over to capture him in a tender kiss, sending absolute adoration across to him. He lets out a deep rumble and returns those emotions to me, servos settling on my back strut. After we break from the kiss, he nuzzles his faceplate into my neck cabling and sighs deeply, slight exhaustion creeping into our minds. While watching Cybertron return to its former glory is exceptionally gratifying, it is exhausting for every bot involved. He removes his helm from my neck cabling and asks,

"Your exhaustion earlier was pretty extreme; perhaps you should see a medic." His optics look teasing, but I know he is being entirely serious.

I kiss him quickly and reply, "I assure you it was nothing serious. I am in a new environment and living among bots with whom I have been at war for millennia. On top of that, we are rebuilding an entire planet; I am simply adjusting, that is all."

A pause hangs in the air, and Megatron searches our bond for any trace of myself being deceitful or lying. Once he is satisfied, he states,

"If it gets worse, you will be seing a medic, that I promise."

I nod, knowing that it is not merely my stress if it gets worse. I get up exhausted, wishing to do nothing more than retire with my spark mate. He rises with me, placing a tender servo on my hip, and guides me to our bethroom, where we promptly slip into recharge.