Ep 0.5 - Hug Break (closed)

“Rhinox.”

The greeting came from the Autobot’s back, a low, deep-harmonic rumble over the rev of a massive engine whirr. A blue and red Peterbilt semi-truck came idling up, slowing down to stop not far from the engineer who appeared to be deeply involved with his inspection of the local wild flowers. The eighteen wheeler sat back on its axels for a moment before coming apart, snapping together and standing up into the tall, Iacon-built framework of Optimus Prime. His EM field was rippled politely with curiosity, a mien of both query and interest in his expression as he moved to peer down at what Rhinox was looking at, minding the flowers as he did.

Optimus tilted his head at Rhinox. “I heard you were off shift and off base. Simply wanted to check in on you.” Optimus glanced at the flower. “What species is that?”

The Prime was still somewhat startled by the totality and thoroughness of Rhinox’s gentle disposition. The intensity for which he cared for others was real, palpable and very near a physical hum of kindness off the Bot’s bulk. The care he put into his study of the flowers was more than some soldiers gave the mech in the firing ditch at their side. It would have been a lie to say that the engineer’s manner was not in and of itself soothing. It was difficult to be tense around a long-wave mech like Rhinox, the easy pitch of his field enticing other to calm. Something they all sorely needed.

“Since Jazz implemented the new duty rosters,” said Optimus, moving to kneel down beside the other mech, “we are all, allotted some down time.” He inspected the flower Rhinox had indicated, EM casual as the day was long. “I’m simply electing to take mine here, provided you have no objections.”

It wasn’t a secret that Optimus tended to take his off-duty hours to be on his own, not for the solitude but for the quiet that came with the solitude to think. With things so desperate for the Autobots, their numbers so few, losses stacking up, there had been a lot of those drives. This was the first time in a long time that R&R came… and he didn’t feel the press of all that needed doing against the inside of his head. For once… things were being taken care of, perhaps only in the immediate sense, but that too was a welcome change.

“I know,” he said, after a moment, “that optimizing the ground bridge generator has been an involved task for you, Rattrap, and Airazor all.” His EMF pulsed gratitude. “It’s a labor all the Autobots greatly appreciate.” To say nothing of Fowler who was delighted to find the energy issue with his higher ups had resolved itself on the Autobot end. “You should know that your presence here is making a great difference.”

“I do not imagine that the usual labors of war much suits you,” said Optimus, his optics on the patch of wild flowers, his EMF steady as a spark-pulse and unreadable.

As it suited so few of them in the beginning, and had grown to fit them despite their efforts. Megatron had taken that choice from them – the choice to remain free of war and find their way through life on a path not bloodied with energon and spent metals. Thinking of Bumblebee and Bluestreak, mechanisms sparked into the crush of war, given purpose by its edicts, forged in the heat of battle it was difficult sometimes. Jazz and Ironhide, Ratchet – all changed to suit the face of war and what was Optimus Prime but the mechanism that war maid Orion Pax? Optimus’ EMF remained steady on and it was a moment before he looked up from the patch of lilies.

“I think it does not suit very many of us. A fact for which I am always grateful.” Even if, a small part of him thought, you are one half of a war engine that will not stop soldiering on. “War changes too many of us. Makes us unrecognizable even to ourselves. It is good that you still know what you find joy in doing, Rhinox, and I am glad we can give it to you here.”

Optimus laid a hand on Rhinox’s shoulder, a warm press of EMF in the touch that held and hummed in the thick armor plating. “And for that, not your competency in battle, I am more grateful.”

When this earned him a querying look, Optimus looked aside briefly, a low harmonic of engine noise in his chest before he met the other mech’s stare again his own optics focused and calm. “War has made machines of us, too many of our people taking violence as our function and making weapons of ourselves. More than warriors, we need peacemakers and more than brutality we need kindness, sincerity, sparks that don’t beat to the pulse of war.”

He paused a moment before added, quietly, firmly, “I would never ask you to prove your loyalty to me or your value to me or anything about yourself through the venue of violence, Rhinox. You are valuable as you are. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Optimus didn’t… he didn’t withdraw. He did stiffen for a split second, however, when the heavy-set engineer pulled him with the barest of preamble into a substantial embrace and held him tight. He blinked, hard, optics flickering, his EMF thrown for a moment with a ripple of genuine surprise followed by a pulse, to his embarrassment, of unease.

He… couldn’t remember the last time a mechanism had hugged him, honestly. Partly because the tactile gesture was not universal with all frame-types and function classes and partly because no one had the thoughtlessly instinctive kindness to not care he was both a commanding officer of the Autobot Army and The Last of the Primes.

Which was why Optimus’ next move was to reach up and wrap one arm around the other mech’s shoulders, stilling and letting his EM field open a bit to a less controlled calm and take on a more natural pulse of understanding… and though he didn’t say it, there was a thank you in the pitch of his energy field. Long enough without, it was easy to forget what tactile gestures felt like or meant.

He didn’t really have a notion what to say so the Prime just let Rhinox grip him tight, waves of calm and acceptance rolling easy off his framework because it was clear that Rhinox had been without kindness for a while – the death of his team, separation, and who knew what else. Just being there, a solid point in the flux and chaos of war… Prime supposed he could be that easily enough. Even if only for this moment.

Optimus tilted his head slightly, peering down at the engineer at his shoulder, EMF quirking with surprise that Rhinox pretty much openly addressing the burden of leadership. His arm around the engineer shifted slightly so his hand rested on the back of the older mech’s shoulder. Hearing Rhinox talk about it, aloud, not just silently acknowledging that being in command was a difficult task, was a strange thing. With the exception of Ironhide and Jazz (who still only addressed the issue in actions, indirect words, and touches) it had been a very long time since another mechanism told him what he did was difficult… and it had been eons since someone told it to him while… trying to comfort him like this.

Feeling a bit slow on the uptake, the Prime realized that Rhinox wasn’t looking for comfort, he was trying to give it to him. Oh. The was slightly painful to realize that, instinctually, he had a best grasp of what was appropriate on the battle field than he did just then. War has made machines of us, he thought, closing his optics a moment. His grip on the engineer’s shoulder pulsed once more, tensing before he leaned back slightly to look the other mech in the eye.

“Thank you, Rhinox. Your concern is…” Appreciated? Valued? Heard? He hummed slightly, then just, “Thank you.”

A flicker of a smile crossed the Prime’s mouth as he stepped back, frame still carrying the electromagnetic impression of the other mech’s energy against his plates, the physical pressure. The line between commander and commanded was difficult to draw with a team so small and a cause so desperate but for just a kilk… dismissing the complications of that seemed appropriate. He was getting a ping from base. Bumblebee was reporting in from his patrol and, apparently, June Darby was inquiring about the possibility of learning to use Cybertronian medical tools. He glanced back to Rhinox.

“I have to head back to base,” he said, moving back to get room for a transformation. “It was good talking with you, Rhinox.” He turned to go then… “And I will not forget.”