Me and You

Optimus was more than aware of his own weaknesses. His penchant for believing the best in everyone was simple naivety - he knew this, consciously, and yet it never stopped him from taking a second hit, a third hit, a sixth, a ninth, in his friendship with Sentinel. There were always justifications, always reasons to say it's alright, I can take it. And truth was, as long as Optimus could take it, as long as he could tolerate it, he would keep going. Every snide remark, every insult, every betrayal thus far had been burdens Optimus could shoulder.

Why did he feel so inclined? Why did he feel like he had to shoulder anything Sentinel threw at him? Optimus wasn't even certain he could answer that - even the rare moments that Sentinel showed some sort of desperation or vulnerability weren't enough to justify this any longer.

And now, Optimus wasn't certain that he could continue turning a blind optic to his friend. He knew his own faults - he knew Sentinel's just as well. And in his way, he excused them, for Sentinel's sake, and it hurt him. It hurt Sentinel, maybe, in a way that neither of them could really anticipate. And now, Optimus stood with his friend, and felt nothing but sheer disgust for the petulance in Sentinel's face.

Optimus had lost a comrade - a friend - and he had nearly given his own life for the Autobots that Sentinel Prime swore to protect. Optimus stood, the Magnus hammer in one hand, the All Spark nestled against his chest plating, and he knew he deserved something - anything - that might indicate Sentinel's approval. His respect.

Yet, there was nothing. Just a scowl, a glare, a hateful expression that Optimus was no longer willing to endure. Optimus needed - wanted - Sentinel to greet him, to perhaps pay some tribute to Optimus' fallen comrade, anything. Some acknowledgement that surely, Optimus felt alone, and even weak. Damaged.

Sentinel didn't approach him until he was alone - he gave Optimus that much dignity. But the more Optimus considered that statement, the more he realized that it wasn't at all like that. Sentinel knew Optimus' comrades were on edge, and they would defend him while he was down. Sentinel was waiting until he was alone, and most vulnerable, before making his round.

As usual, Sentinel didn't bother to knock. Optimus didn't remark upon it, turning to face his friend.

And there was silence.

Optimus couldn't figure it out. The way Sentinel was looking at him - certainly hostile, yes, but there was something else. And it took a few awkward moments before Sentinel finally met Optimus' gaze - quickly avoiding it again afterwards - and spoke.

"I'm sure you've heard the news, commander," said Sentinel coldly, in that particular way he did when he was trying to be both 'respectful' and utterly disrespectful simultaneously. "I'm just here to tell you your initiation is in two cycles. You'll need to bring the hammer, and the All Spark probably won't hurt your image, so-"

"Initiation?"

Sentinel stopped, staring at Optimus for a moment. "You know," he said, awkwardly. "Your... parade."

Optimus made a derisive sound, shaking his head. "No," he responded. "I have more important things to do than-"

"What things?!" challenged Sentinel, rounding on Optimus with angrily. "You're the Magnus! The leader of all of Cybertron and you have better things to do than go to your own initiation?!"

Optimus straightened himself and looked down at his friend. "Yes," he said simply.

Optimus didn't rise to the bait, he didn't retort, he didn't argue - and from the way that Sentinel recoiled at that much, it was clear that the other Prime had noticed the change. Sentinel stammered something, but it was more of an incoherent grouse rather than a statement, and Optimus did not even try to pretend to understand it. Yet, unconsciously, his hand reached up and rested on Sentinel's shoulder.

Softening, Optimus spoke. "If you were to go in my place, as my... second-in-command, perhaps-"

"I don't need your pity," responded Sentinel coldly. "Commander."

Relenting, Optimus dropped his hand. Sentinel was right, of course, and Optimus knew that he himself was right in believing that Sentinel wasn't worth the effort. His spark twisted unpleasantly, and every circuit in his body rebelled at the mere concept of allowing Sentinel to suffer quietly. But he backed away, nodding a bit, before turning to the window. He forced himself to look out at the city, and forced himself not to speak. If he was Magnus, then he knew that this was a skill he would have to have anyway. Silence. Patience.

It seemed Optimus wouldn't be the best of Magnuses, because this resolve only lasted moments before he turned back to Sentinel. "You're right," he said, his voice steady but strained. "You don't need my pity - but maybe if you'd stop fishing for it, I wouldn't ever pity you!"

Optimus regretted it the moment he said it. It was easy to guess how Sentinel would react - his insecurities shielded him easily, most of the time.

Except, they didn't now. Sentinel was wordless - not that he wasn't trying to say something, but every attempt was pitiful and eventually he stopped.

"It’s not pity," said Optimus wearily. "I need you to go on my place. Please. I can’t celebrate now. But it… it shouldn’t have to stop you, Sentinel."

Considering all the terrible things that Optimus could say about Sentinel, it was significant that the worst thing was Sentinel’s utter inability to be quick on the uptake. But from the look of understanding that suddenly flitted past Sentinel’s face – followed quickly by a more familiar scowl – Sentinel understood.

"Yes, sir," he responded, walking to the door. He paused, a bit clumsy as he spun around. "About your comrade – you know, uh–" The name clearly escaped Sentinel. "About that, I’m… sorry."

Sentinel hustled himself out of the room remarkably fast after managing that much compassion. Optimus smiled a bit, hollow but somehow vindicated – for once, it was Sentinel who was there when he needed him. Optimus liked to think he knew how to be a leader, but… no, he had no idea how to proceed in the Elite Guard. He knew no one in it other than a handful of mechs, he knew nothing of it except it was designed to keep Cybertron safe – and yet he found himself supposed to lead it.

It wasn’t pity. Optimus supposed that right now, it would have been more of a betrayal for Sentinel to not be there at all.