Yeager Chronicles: After Extinction

21: Optimus

It was quiet and Optimus was sitting in his cabin, just going between looking at the holomation to the internal mechanics of his actual frame. Although he had this particular frame for a couple years, that did not mean that he was fully knowing of what all existed within the tight space. The soft leather on the steering wheel to the soft fabric interior, even though he was old, to him it was a new thing he found about himself that he liked.

Even with this fresh wave of something positive -- optimistic energy, it did not feel like it would last. It never did. He wasn't sure if he wanted it to last or to go back to the dull way it used to be. Oh who was he kidding, the way it was somewhere he could never be. Cybertron was gone, dead. And Cade...

Cade, he didn't know if the man was still alive! But he wasn't so old in human years, he wasn't seriously hurt during the fight with Lockdown or before that. Optimus just was not sure. And if he was—<i>is</i>—alive, would he even want to see him again? Optimus had left so suddenly after the fight, never really sure if that battle was completely won. He landed his head on the wheel, appalled at himself. He gripped the bottom of the wheel hard. Although it did nothing for what he's done, it almost felt reassuring, something he could hold onto. There were so many things he had – mecha he loved – stolen away, this one solid thing seemed to latch onto him so strongly since everything.

"Why did this happen?" he groused to no-one but to himself. There was no-one to listen to him even if he were speaking directly to another; they were getting ready to investigate the Terminus. He already was regretting coming with Nightblade. She and her family worked so well together, joked well together, and he really didn't belong there to begin with. He dropped his head against the wheel again, a little harder than he should have. It was enough to make his head feel like it made an echo.

A gentle knock went against his window, he only moved his eyes to see who it was: a dark woman with coal hair. "Nightblade," he sighed, not loud enough to be heard. She still stood there on his rim as she held onto the handle beside his driver's door.

"We're about ready to go. How much fuel have you got?" Optimus lifted his head from the wheel and stared at the fuel gauge. He sighed softly and rolled down the window. "A third of a tank." It wasn't quite a lie but it was much closer to being empty than that. Not that she could see what it actually said, it was not at a good angle for her to tell.

"I want you to have a cube. No burnouts for you, certainly not today, friend." He couldn't help but roll his eyes. Gently shaking his head back and forth and told her to "get off." She did, and he deholomized his avatar. His t-cog hissed as his frame swiveled into place.

"Damn, I forget how frelling huge you are, especially from down here." Optimus heard her chuckle. He looked down at her, and without much care plucked her up. "But I hadn't forgotten how small you are, as a human." Fingers holding her between the shoulders, bunching up the fabric on the avatar, she went limp like a kitten being taken by its mother.

"But that doesn't mean I like being picked up!" She snapped, crossing her arms, her sleeves bunching up at the elbow. Optimus quirked his brow. "Now, you must understand that I don't much like it either."

"But you're so light." She blinked slowly. "It's so easy to lift you." He couldn't help but roll his optics, and shook his head. He thought about dropping down on the floor but thought against it, still holding her between two fingers. "And you were -- <i>were</I> smaller than me," she grumbled while she turned her head away.

"Is this you admitting you liked picking me up?" The Prime almost allowed himself to  snickered.

"I will admit nothing." He slightly smirked. She never did like to admit to anything she did or did not do, seemed that part of her still resided. Optimus hummed, he dropped her to his other hand that was palm up.