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2025-08-30
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2025-09-23
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3/?
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The Future We Didn't Build

Summary:

Four million years after the events of TF One, the leader of the Autobots and the leader of the Decepticons get caught in a cave-in on Earth.

This has unexpected consequences, namely "What do you do with an enemy who only remembers being your friend?" Basically a reverse Orion Pax arc, where it's Megatron who loses his memories.

Chapter 1: You're not gonna like this, buddy

Chapter Text

Optimus groaned and ran diagnostics as he came out of shutdown. A mine cave-in had not been, as Spike liked to say, "on his bingo card" today. Minor dents, it seemed, except for the leg. That was going to be an issue getting out of here.

Earth had a suprising amount of energon for a planet that didn't run on it. The Decepticons were efficient at harvesting it, but their mine construction skills and safety protocols when it came to exposing the locals to smelting byproducts left a lot to be desired.

Optimus had led a small team of Autobots to seize the mine before more people got hurt.

And then he'd let Megatron bait him underground. Like an idiot.

Optimus heard the faint whirs and hums of another bot coming out of shutdown. No doubt Megatron would blame him for the cannon blast that got them into this mess, but he couldn't move. They'd have to work together or wait together.

Megatron actually pinged him for a status update, like a bot passing a friend in the commissary who wasn't able to stop and talk, which was vaguely alarming.

Optimus struggled to a more or less sitting position. "Are you injured?"

"No," said Megatron. "Maybe. Dented my helmet pretty good, but I'm operational."

Optimus sighed. No upper hand. "Better than me, then. My left leg is damaged."

"Why are we the only ones here? Slow cave in or were we just stupid?"

"The rest of our crews thought discretion was the better part of valor and hung back. And we were stupid."

Megatron snorted "And then I followed you into this mess. Typical. I'll wait and let Elita kill you, since you're already hurt."

"No fear of that. And I followed you."

"Huh. The mineral composition is strange. No cyberluminescence at all."

Optimus stared at Megatron in the dim light from their frames. "Earth doesn't go in for cyberluminescence --have you not learned anything about the planet we found refuge on?"

"Earth? Earth. That primate-infested mudball in sector seven? I must have hit my head harder than I thought. Orion, why in the pit are we taking refuge on Earth?"

"We are not --" Optimus' systems stuttered "What did you just call me?"

"You need to tell me right now what the pit is going on, Pax. Everything's wrong. I tried to send an SOS but I didn't recognize 80% of my contacts. You're not even on the list. My frame mass is wrong. Your frame mass is wrong, and I --"

"I think you might have hit your head harder than you thought, Dee," said Optimus quietly.

Megatron would have cursed him at the old name.

"Yeah?" said D-16 belligerently. "How hard do you figure?"

"We got these upgrades four million years ago."

D-16 was silent for a moment. "Four. Millennia."

"Yes."

"Well that's just fantastic. I wake up in a dark hole with you and I'm old as pit and you're --Pax? Whoa hey."

Dirt and stone trickled down ominously as D-16 managed to flip his frame around and crawl towards Orion Pax. He hadn't heard that sound coming from Pax's systems in ages; not since the third week on their mining crew when the squad leader before Elita had gotten impaled by a defective pneumatic brace in a cave-in.

Orion had been right there, with the body, and it had taken hours to dig back to them.

"Hey, focus on me, Pax, don't you dare crash on me." D-16 cast a headlamp over Orion's leg. "Focus on my voice. Hah. Just 'damaged', that's the last time I believe a status report from you. I'm going to isolate that leg from the rest of your system; there's no way that's not a major fuel leak."

He reached to brace himself on Orion's shoulder and Orion flinched, a battle mask snapping closed around the lower half of his face.

D-16 blinked at the flat glare being leveled at him. 

And the small energon blade in Orion's hand.

"You have a t-cog."

"Everyone has a t-cog," said Orion. "Back. Up."

At least he was speaking, even if it was nonsense.

Come to think of it, the constant feeling of something missing in his chest was gone. He felt strong and whole. And exasperated, but that wasn't new. Pax was clearly in enough pain to generate rationality errors.

"I'm old as pit, everyone has a cog, and something's crawled up your tailpipe, apparently." D-16 deliberately ignored the knife and rapped Orion on the helm. "Knock it off. I'm not letting my best friend bleed to death on some precious dirt clod that I'm supposed to know all about."

The bark of laughter was staticky and slightly hysterical, and D-16 didn't like it one bit. "Pax."

Orion closed his eyes and turned his head away. Do it."

D-16 frowned as he worked. Very little made the Orion Pax he knew flinch. Fear and pain made him stubborn and curious instead. He took it as a call to rise to the occasion rather than a warning he was about to do something monumentally stupid. The first time he'd been chased out of the Archives after hours, he'd come back to barracks glowing, practically vibrating out of his plating, and D-16 had had to pin him to the mat three times before he was sure Pax wouldn't drive Elita crazy in the morning.

Something else was glowing now.

"Is that the Matrix of Leadership?"

"No," Orion drawled, his eyes still closed. "It's fancy decal. I've grown vain in my old age."

"Har har." Orion Pax was carrying the Matrix of Leadership. That explained something, but what exactly D-16 couldn't guess.

Isolating a limb from the rest of a bot's system was certainly easier when your hands could transform the tools you needed. D-16 heard the change as Orion's fuel pressure balanced out.

"Better?"

Orion opened his eyes. "Much better. Thank you." He noticed the knife in his hand, and transformed it away. "I apologize."

"So," said D-16, settling back against the same wall Orion was leaning against. "Maybe while we wait for rescue you can tell me how you just happen to have the Matrix instead of Sentinel Prime."

"It's a long story," Orion hedged.

"Do you have anything better to do? Tell me the story, Pax."

"You won't like it."

"You know, you beating around the slag-heap never ends well for me."

Orion sighed. "You're right. I never apologized for tricking you into that race. I'm sorry for decieving you."

D-16 looked at him, startled. "Thanks."

"I will be as honest as I can be, though I'm warning you now, some of this will be hard to hear. What's the last thing you remember?"

What did he remember? "Train. Definitely a train. Primus, the surface of Cybertron is beautiful."

"It was," Orion agreed. "We found the location on Bee's map, where the Primes fought their last battle."

"We found the Matrix."

"No. The Matrix had vanished in the absence of a worthy holder. We found a survivor."

"You're kidding."

"Alpha Trion was injured but still alive."

"Incredible. What then?"

"We...discovered some things about the circumstances of the Primes' last battle."

D-16 rolled his eyes. "Do not coddle me, Pax."

Orion finally retracted the battle mask. In the dim light from their frames, D-16 could see Pax was deeply unhappy.

"You didn't take it well, the first time. You said it was my fault for you learning something that you couldn't do anything about. Forgive me if being stuck underground with you in a violent rage is not my idea of a good time."

"When would I ever --never mind, I can see myself saying that. Listen, Pax. We have cogs now --still dying to hear about that, by the way --so I can do whatever I want about whatever I find out."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Oh, so you don’t trust me, is that it?"

The mask snapped into place again.

D-16 sighed and raised a hand. "I promise to hear you out completely and I will not blame you for things that aren't your fault."

Orion tapped his fingers on his knee. "Dee, can you name the thirteen primes?"

"Orion Pax."

"Humor me. We have a little time."

D-16 grumbled and listed them. "Zeta, Prima, Solus, Megatronus, Alpha Trion, Micronus, Alchemyst, Leige Maximo, Amalgamous, Vector, Onyx, Nexus, and Quintus. Happy?"

"Where is Sentinel in that list?"

D-16 paused. The thirteen Primes fought their last battle, with Sentinel Prime the only survivor. The Primes took enough of the Quintesson leadership with them that Sentinel was able to drive them off planet for good, but Zeta and the Matrix had been lost; slowly, as some pessimists said, killing the planet.

But Sentinel wasn't on the list. The Primes were created by Primus directly. How could he be a fellow Prime to the others unless he was made a Prime in title only at that last battle. Which meant he was either there, and knew where to find Zeta and the Matrix all along, or...or he was making the whole thing up.

"Son of the Unmaker," D-16 growled. He put his head in his hands. "You were right. Glitched-ass piece of slag. What was Sentinel lying about?"

"Pretty much all of it," said Orion. "The last battle was a trap, one the Primes almost survived until he got personally involved. Sentinel surrendered to the Quintessons in exchange for proxy leadership; and most of our energon was going for tribute. And...no one has ever been created without a cog."

The Thirteen Primes, betrayed. Murdered, their honor stolen. And every single cogless bot had been made cogless, mutilated before coming online.

"I hope your next sentence includes the fact that Sentinel is dead, Pax."

"He is dead," said Orion shortly.

"Good." He waved a hand. "Continue."

"We went back to Iacon to show everyone the truth."

"Pit, they actually believed it? I wouldn't have if it hadn't been you telling me."

"Yes. Well, footage of Sentinel kneeling to a Quintesson was pretty incontrovertible."

D-16 spat in disgust.

Orion was hesitating again.

"I don't think it can get worse."

"For you, maybe," Orion muttered. "There was...strife, after. Removing Sentinel from power and his execution wasn't enough for everyone. There were disagreements on what it would take to rebuild, and resentment became violence. Even with the Matrix found, some thought the title of Prime and everything he touched should die with him.

"No kidding," said D-16 sarcastically. "He caused harm to society from top to bottom. None of that explains how you got the Matrix."

Orion opened his mouth.

Prime, come in. Calling Optimus Prime on sub channel Alpha-T-

Orion tapped his helmet. "Jazz! I read you."

Oh thank Primus, you were really giving us a scare there. Hold up while Blaster and I get a lock on your position, Prime. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper are coming to you.

"Is that Jazz?" said D-16. "Tell him you're --"

"Hold on! Jazz. I am not alone here."

Megatron's still with you, gotcha. I'll send Brawn too.

"No, I am down here with an old friend, D-16."

Silence.

You're pulling my leg.

"Unfortunately I am not. D-16 is unharmed aside from having no memories as Megatron, but I have an injured leg."

Are you safe?

D-16 butted in on the signal. "He's understating the injury, Jazz, tell Ratchet it's a 2nd degree fatigue fracture and a sliced fuel line."

How does Megatron--

"Jazz!"

Fine! I'll warn Bee an' Cliff, and I'll send a message to Soundwave to retrieve old buckethead.

"Jazz, we have to take him with us."

This ain't the time for pranks.

Orion's voice was a low rumble. "I am not leaving him behind for Starscream."

Prowl's going to have a glitch. I'm going to have a glitch. Optimus --

"I expect the Autobots to behave themselves the same way they would for an injured neutral party. He is not Megatron."

The note of authority in Orion's voice was interesting. Prime indeed.

"Come and get us, Jazz."

Chapter 2: What do you do with a Decepticon leader?

Summary:

D-16's adventure continues as they head back to the Ark

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The shuttle that came to retrieve them introduced himself as Jetfire. D-16, supporting Orion on one side while B-127 took the other, managed a brief nod before the shuttle transformed for them to board.

"So how have the last millenia treated you, B?"

B-127 gave D-16 a scandalized look, and a text packet pinged him a moment later: I'm not talking to you.

The text packet had no security, and so everyone could access it. It was followed a moment later by I can't believe this.

"I thought it was fuel loss myself, Bumblebee," Orion murmured, smiling slightly.

Oh you're smiling. Clifjumper, he's smiling. We're in an enclosed space with Megatron and you're hurt and not worried at all

"I've always had you to protect me."

B-127 smiled fondly and flicked Orion's shoulder. Remember that next time you rush off without me or Ironhide as backup, huh?

"Megatron?" said D-16. "Like Badassatron?"

B-127 direct messaged him a rude glyph. On his odd little public feed he added Optimus! Did I give him that idea???

D-16 hummed. "It is a badass name though. Bold, taking a Prime's name."

Orion was silent.

"Optimus wouldn't know," the red bot that called himself Cliffjumper added. "He was dead at the time."

Orion looked at him sharply, and after a moment of coded communication, Cliffjumper saluted and went forward to Jetfire's cockpit.

"Jetfire says we're almost home!"

Home turned out to be a converted spacecraft, perched on the bald top of a very large hill? Mountain? and surrounded on all sides by organic vegetation. D-16 and B-127 helped Orion off the shuttle and into the ship.

"Next left," said B-127. "Aw, pit," he added, coughing. Orion stopped moving and tried to take his weight off the smaller bot.

No, I'm fine, Optimus, don't worry.

"I thought you weren't talking to me," said D-16.

I forgot.

D-16 looked around Orion's shoulder. "Okay there, Bee?"

Bumblebee hunched unhappily, still trying to suppress some kind of vocal short. Injured. Sometimes I forget. Spike is married to his phone though, so it doesn't slow us down too much.

"That sounds awful." B-127 loved to talk.

I think that was the point.

Three medics were waiting once they made it to the medibay.

At least they were familiar faces, though taller and broader than he remembered. "Ratchet, it's --"

Ratchet gave D-16 a quelling look. "Sit over there and wait your turn. Don't you dare shut down with a head injury." He gestured at a bench and turned away, then turned back. "Bumblebee? Guard the door please. I don't want an impromptu high command meeting in my medibay."

D-16 sat on the bench indicated, and watched as Ratchet and the other medics laid Orion out on a recharge slab and ran diagnostics.

He knew Ratchet, of course, from the work team and the district hospital. Hoist he knew by frame, though D-16 had never really spoken to him. And First Aid.

"Your assessment of the injury was sound...D-16," said Hoist.

"Of course it was," said Ratchet "I taught him. Hold still, Optimus." Ratchet held up a scanner, ran it over Optimus again, and sighed. "Never mind. First Aid, get some energon in him as soon as Hoist's done with the fuel line and the structures around it. You'll be staying off that leg as much as possible for the next two weeks, Optimus."

Orion made a face.

"Hup-up!" Ratchet up a finger "I mean it! The most strenuous thing I want you doing is Sunny and Hot Rod's movie night. You lost a significant amount of fuel, and that fatigue fracture needs to heal naturally. I don't want to fabricate parts for you. Hoist, you're hearing this, right?"

"Yes, sir!"

First Aid looked over at D-16 and explained. "Hoist has a sixth sense for bots overexerting themselves."

"How come Jazz hasn't tapped you for fieldwork yet, Hoist?" said Orion mildly.

"Oh, he's asked," said Hoist. "I'm happy here. I'm not quite a conscientious objector, sir, but I've considered it before."

Orion nodded. "If you do make that choice, it will be respected."

"Yes sir."

First Aid's mild expression briefly became a little fixed.

Ratchet pointed in D-16's direction, and then at the recharge slab next to Orion. "Your turn. Let's see what that rock fall did to your bucket. How do you feel?"

D-16 walked over and sat. "Honestly? Somewhere between bad fuel and a hangover."

"Heh." Ratchet began running his hands over D-16's helm. "You and me both. This was supposed to be my day off. Vertigo?"

"Maybe. Being this big is...different."

"Optimus was constantly banging his helm on things for month after his upgrade."

"Two months," said Orion.

"So." said D-16. "Optimus?"

"According to him, the Thirteen chose it. Reset your optics for me."

"They did," said Orion, over the sound of Hoist's welder.

"You don't believe him?"

"I was busy," said Ratchet. "Somebody was taking fusion cannon potshots at anything with Sentinel Prime's face on it. Debris was hitting anyone below Ascension Square. By the time I had time to take a break it was all over."

First Aid laughed. "I thought for sure you would become less of a materialist over the years, Ratchet."

"Shut up," said Ratchet.

First Aid glanced at D-16 and looked immediately contrite. "Sorry, Ratchet."

"I suppose it's traditional," said Hoist, into the awkward silence. "Taking a new name after a massive life change, I mean. Bumblebee's done it twice."

"I'm still trying to wrap my processor around choosing Megatron," said D-16. "It's incredibly cool, but it's bold."

Ratchet scoffed at him, then stepped back. "That's not too bad externally. All the percussive damage must be internal. All right if I take a closer look?"

"Ratchet! " Hoist objected. He withdrew his tools from Orion's leg, and First Aid moved in to help Orion sit up.

"I'm fine, I just had a backup. I'm not hooking him up to the Ark." Ratchet gave D-16 a stern look. "Run a self-assessment on your firewalls. Can you safely drop them for a medical exam or are you booby trapped?"

"Booby-trapped?"

"Run the assessment, oh bold one."

D-16 ran the diagnostic, and cursed. "There's malware. Hang on." It was designed to attack any medic who plugged in without preparation. "I've quarantined it. Go ahead."

D-16 felt Ratchet running systems checks. Circulation. Fuel. Optics. T-cog. Comms.

Ratchet stalled at the processors, poking at stored memory, and disengaged.

"Well," said Ratchet, after a moment, "the memory issue isn't likely to get worse, but there's an unexpected partition preventing you from accessing a good chunk of LTM. It might be fixable if we can figure out what caused it, but I'd like to give you some time to heal before we try anything."

D-16 nodded.

"Meanwhile, we have to figure out what to do with you."

"What to do do with me?"

"Optimus told you we're at war?"

"He said there was conflict after Sentinel's betrayal. He didn't say --that's why we're on Earth? The Quintessons? Still?"

"If only," said First Aid. "The Quints aren't the immediate problem."

Orion finished his energon cube. "Civil war." First Aid handed him another. "We were too divided to fight back when the Quintessons returned."

D-16 made a disgusted face. "Sentinel's legacy lost us our planet? If he wasn't dead already I'd kill him myself! Slowly! Murder, betrayal, indentured, mutilation --what didn't he sink to?"

Everyone was looking at him.

"Don't slagging tell me you wouldn't do the same!" said D-16, rising.

"Sit down!" said Ratchet. "You're focusing on the wrong thing, as usual. If we're at war with ourselves, you haven't asked the obvious question. What side are you on?"

Notes:

Dun dun dun! I had a lot of fun writing the foreshadowing in this chapter, btw.

Not pictured: Prowl throwing a fit outside the medibay

Chapter 3: Litany of Reconciliation

Summary:

D-16 has a realization.

Chapter Text

D-16 looked at Ratchet, then at Orion.

Orion looked away.

No. That couldn't mean --

"We're on opposite sides." D-16 said slowly. He looked back at Ratchet. "You can't be serious." D-16 sat, and rubbed his mouth. "That's why everyone's so twitchy."

"Took him long enough," said First Aid.

"Not helpful," Hoist murmured.

It opened up a whole file directory of questions. How the pit could that have happened?

He looked up. "Pax, you glitch, I told you beating around the slag heap never ends well for me! Am I a hostage?"

"No!" said Orion.

"Maybe," said Ratchet.

Everyone looked at Ratchet, who held up a hand. "I don't have an electrohound in this fight, but I am the chief medical officer of the Autobots. If you compromise the safety of this base for him, Optimus, I will not hesitate to ground you until I judge your processors are functional!"

A grumble started in Orion's systems, but D-16 heard every millennia he'd missed in Pax's voice when he spoke. "I will loop high command in, and we will come to a consensus."

"Better," said Ratchet. "You're not a hostage, Dee, but permenant memory loss is rare. We don't know how you'll feel about the situation when you regain your memory, or what sensitive information you'll take with you when you leave us."

"Come on! How do you think I feel about the situation now?"

"It will be all right, Dee."

D-16 glared at Orion. "You say that."

"I always mean it."

The humor in Orion's optics was different than he remembered. Quieter.

D-16 sighed. "You do." He knew Orion Pax, didn't he? They looked out for each other.

But if that were true, why were they on opposite sides?

"Do you feel up to that meeting, Optimus?"

Orion sat up straighter. "A high command meeting in your medibay, Ratchet?"

"You're staying overnight and I want you off that leg. Don't make it a habit!"

Orion's "high command" turned out to include Jazz.

Jazz slouched against D-16's cot, gave D-16 a "'Sup" and a dazzlingly fake smile, and proceeded to ignore him.

Opposite sides.

Ironhide, a capable old hauler, stood next to Orion. Prowl, one of Elita's friends whom D-16 had always admired but vaguely avoided, took Orion's other side. Jetfire, the shuttle from before, came in from another, larger door with a blue and gold bot who was openly staring at D-16.

"Thank you for your patience with me, my friends," Orion began.

"You were injured, Prime, it was no trouble," said Jazz.

"As you've heard from Ratchet, D-16 has lost his memories of the war. I made the decision to bring him here instead of leaving him for the Decepticons to recover. I'd like to arrange it so that he is as free as possible to decide on his own next steps, whether he remains with us or not."

"You're sure we can't just toss him in the brig?" said Ironhide. "Bein' honest, Optimus, it'd be the safest option for him, not just for us. There's a few bots who'd shoot Megatron on sight, even if they were aware of the situation."

Opposite sides.

"Which they will be," said Jazz. "I've never known Cliffjumper to keep a secret. I shoulda thought of that."

"If D-16's memory loss holds," said Prowl, "We may gain an ally, or at least an advantage. I do not like it, but Prime has a point about making this work. For now I suggest that D-16 mostly interact with officers or those who can be expected to behave. Jazz's people, maybe."

Jazz saluted.

"Grimlock," said Orion. "Can you guarantee D-16's safety on base?"

The big blue and gold bot growled while he thought.

"Me Grimlock think you Prime not thinking smart about this, but one more telling off not going to change you." His optics glinted. "Grimlock can guar-an-tee Dinobots don't start fights. And stop them." he said slowly. "If him Megatron fight Grimlock tomorrow."

"Deal," said D-16, eying Grimlock's bulk.

Grimlock's grin had far too many teeth.

Opposite sides. An enemy in your grasp.

"Red Alert won't be happy but I'll work with him about access to the ship," said Ironhide. "It really would be easier to stick him in the brig. Where's he going to sleep?"

"Here," said Ratchet.

Prowl's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"I need an assistant. I have a spare recharge berth in medical --I use one of the ones in my office most often anyway. D-16 has basic medical training. Everyone wins."

To D-16, he added privately. It was well done, stabilizing Optimus.

"You're not worried about security?" said Ironhide.

"He wouldn't be the first Decepticon to ever come through my medibay, Ironhide. I can keep him busy and safe."

"Is everyone agreed?"

There were pings and murmurs of assent.

"Fantastic," said Ratchet, clapping his hands together. "Get out. You too Hoist, Aid. Optimus is stable and will be getting some defrag time. I'll give Dee the tour."

"Why me?" D-16 asked, once the medibay was silent, and Orion had shut down to recharge.

Ratchet hummed, putting a tool away. "I meant what I said about needing an assistant. As you could probably tell from the attitude, First Aid needs a slagging vacation, and I'm this close--" he held up two fingers "-- to making it an order before he really breaks opsec. He came a little too close to exposing an Autobot agent today. You and Aid were in the same class. I meant what I said about stabilizing Optimus, too." He tapped D-16 on the shoulder. "You did a good job, Dee. And it's good to see you like this."

D-16 smiled. Ratchet never gave a compliment he didn't mean. "Thanks, Ratchet."

"You should get some rest. You took a nasty hit too."

The Matrix of Leadership in Orion's chest cast a dim blue glow over everything in the medibay as D-16 settled into the recharge berth Ratchet pointed out. The Matrix of Leadership. Orion Pax. Opposite sides. Primus he was tired.

From Ratchet's office, he thought for a second he heard Ratchet begin an Old Cybertronian litany for reconciliation.

Everything was bizarre. Ratchet, singing a hymn?

How could they have ended up on opposite sides? What could have made Pax break his promise to watch D-16's back?

Nothing. He was still keeping that promise. It was D-16 who had left.

Something had divided them so thoroughly that D-16 had left Orion Pax to face the consequences alone.

What had Pax done to become Prime after Sentinel?