Endpoint (A TFP Fanfiction)

Chapter 19

My heart has joined the thousands, for my friend stopped running today.

~

Optimus and the other deflated in relief when the Omega Lock shut down. Though they all knew that this wasn't the full victory, they still had a warlord to defeat, but this was a great weight off of their shoulder pads. The Prime watched as Bumblebee sighed soundlessly, while Ratchet did the same, turning around calmly and nodding his helm. Optimus returned the nod, once again becoming serious and all business. Next came the hardest part of all.

Next he had to snuff the spark of Megatron. 

"Bumblebee," he ordered in one word, his light blue optics looking down to the scout. Bumblebee looked up at him solemnly and nodded once. 

Ratchet caught up to the scout quickly as the yellow and black mech began to head out, despite the medic's limp. Optimus hurriedly followed, surprised at Ratchet's speed. He narrowed his optics when Ratchet placed a servo on Bumblebee's shoulder plate and looked into his wide purple optics. The two of them seemed to have a silent conversation, one that made Optimus' spark worry about what it was, before Bumblebee finally shook his helm. Ratchet opened his derma to protest against whatever it was about, but the scout placed his servo over Ratchet's and gently pulled it off his shoulder plate. His optics turned apologetic and sad as he slowly pushed the medic back behind him, leaving Ratchet stunned and unable to speak. Optimus quickly realized that, once again, Ratchet was putting himself before the others. The Prime admired that, but at a time like this, it worried him. He wanted them all to make it out alive.

"Ratchet," the red and blue mech said quietly, this time placing his own servo on the old doctor's shoulder plate. "Bumblebee is the scout, and the only one who knows where Megatron is at the moment. It is wise if we allow him to proceed first."

The medic again opened his derma to reply, but this time cut himself off, sighing and nodding his helm. The scout perked up slightly, seeming a bit more like his old adorable self, and turned hurriedly, his pedesteps almost completely silent as he quickly waved for them to follow. Ratchet sighed again and did so, keeping a good distance but also making sure he was close enough to step in. Optimus was right behind his old friend as they exited the room and snuck through the hall. They passed a few doors before Bumblebee quickly held up his clenched servo, his gaze narrowing at the bend in the hall a bit farther away. Optimus nearly flinched when he heard the unmistakable sound of another Vehicon division heading there way, most likely on scheduled patrol. Each of the Autobots tensed, Optimus lifting his blaster, which was starting to get heavy in his grasp, Ratchet drawing his blade while his mangled servo reluctantly hovered over the gun at his hip, and Bumblebee taking out both blasters quickly. 

When the first Vehicon rounded the corner, Optimus made the first shot and hit him straight in the helm. The others didn't hesitate to follow suit, charging the others as they followed the first. The Prime couldn't help but think back to when he and the Autobots never hit first. Mercy had always been a priority of the his, but now it was like it was never there. Optimus' spark clenched, but he tried not to think about it. This was war, and this was the final battle. It would be bloody, yet there was no way they could hold back now. 

When they finished, the last of them crumpling to the floor after being shot in the chest chassis by the scout, Optimus lowered his blaster and stared at the offlined Decepticons littering the floor. His processor flashed to that thought, the one he was trying the hardest not to dwell upon. 

He was going to have to do this to Megatron. 

Why was it, after everything and despite his roaring hate and frustration for the mech, he was still afraid, still upset, about doing this?