Ep. 1 - Catching Up

[Deleted]

For a moment Maximus said nothing. He stood stiffly beneath the hand that kept him flattened back against the wall, his own hands opening and closing into fists. He did not struggle any further, though his field seethed with fury, laced with dread. The red optics continued to burn holes into the mech behind Optimus.

From far away he heard the Autobot commander speak to him, the words coming low and hard. Against them fought a mad rush of paranoia, fuelled by memory. No, this was wrong. Decepticons in his garrison, in his prison, loose like vermin in the blackened corridors, while enemy mortars hammered down upon the bunker and streamers of dust and dislodged dirt rained down upon him and his huddled officers. One Decepticon was one too many. One brought others, until you were overrun.

Not a Decepticon. An Autobot for centuries...!

The words sank home. Slowly, the haze cleared. Maximus drew in a deep breath, unspent pressure hissing from his joints. His optics widened as his anger drained, leaving him aghast at what was left behind it.

"No, I-" he said, and convulsively swallowed. Couldn't look at Optimus. Grappled for the stony neutrality that had gotten him through Delphi. It was in tatters. Damn it. "I'm not- I'm fine. I'm fine now. I just- a mistake. A file, his file- out of date..."

[Deleted]

Optimus’ field shifted frequency almost immediately, taking on the original, familiar pitch it had been before thought slightly more reserved now. Carefully, after glancing in Jazz and Smokescreen’s direction to make sure they were both unharmed and understanding that the situation was under control, Optimus leaned off the other mechanoid. A ripple of anxiety unfurled through his spark in an ionic thrum, spreading through the harmonics of his engine noise and internal rhythms. He’d never seen Fort Max do something like that before. They had served together a long time during the Retaliation and at Simanzi before that, so Optimus had seen violence from the Autobot. Max’s kill count during that time was part of his mythos.

But it had never been like that. If he was killing Decepticons, it was because it was necessary and to save others and himself and it was never so…Optimus wasn’t certain what the word was because he wasn’t sure what he’d just seen. But he knew what Max looked like when his life was on the line, when there was fear in all of them because they were staring death and horror in the face. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought…

“Cycle down,” said the Prime, quietly now. He laid a hand briefly on Max’s shoulder. “You have been in transit a while. Coming off medical leave straight into active duty; it’s normal to be on edge. No one was hurt.” Jazz being a hardy, bouncy kind of bot. “Take some time to acclimate, check in with Ratchet so he can make sure you’re cleared for duty. I will contact Fowler about finding an alt mode for your class size, but until then just take it slow. Okay?”

[Deleted]

Smokescreen met Optimus' glance with a knowing look. Then, taking a deep breath of his own, he climbed to his feet, his air of professional calm back in place. 

Fortress Maximus' optics cut in his direction as he moved, and Smokescreen gave a little wave to show his empty hands. He smiled. 

"I can show you to the medical bay, if you like," he said. "I think I've more or less got a handle of the layout of the base."

---

Maximus shook his head.  He did not trust himself with company at that moment in time. 

He forced his battle systems to cycle down into standby. That was about the best he could manage these days. He sagged when Optimus stood back and the pressure across his chest plating was released, then pulled himself upright. A salute wasn't strictly necessary, but Maximus slowly lifted one hand to his brow anyway, drawing some measure of calm from the adherence to protocol. Shame had already overcome his shock. 

He has attacked an Autobot. An ex-Deception! That file wasn't out of date! An Autobot. Right in front of Optimus, who did not need to deal with this absurdity when he already had an entire war to fight.  Who did not need to see what the former warden of Garrus-9 had become.

With effort, Maximus collected himself.

"Yes, sir," he said, his voice low. He found himself unable to meet his old friend's gaze as he said it. "I'll- report to Medical now. Contact you later with my status."

He trailed off. Damn it. Couldn't think of anything else to say.  Neither an explanation nor an apology. With a heavy spark Maximus gave one last salute and silently dismissed himself. Get out. Before you do anything else.

He turned to trudge from the room. Didn't trust himself to look sidelong at Jazz as he walked past. He kept his optics on the door and his hand off the rifle maglocked to the small of his back. Ignored the small voice still yelling for him to deal with one Decepticon before it became many. Too many. 

He ducked through the doorway and was gone. 

[Deleted]

Jazz slowly came up out of his crouch, as stone-cold sober as he'd ever been in his life. "Well...." he said, once the mech had gone.

Jazz had nearly let go of the mech earlier than he'd meant to, just from being that close to him, being immersed in the thick swamp of fear and hate and FEAR. It had HURT, just to be next to it.

"So, what's the story?" Jazz asked, quietly. He could guess. That kind of hate didn't come from nowhere. That kind of fear didn't come from anything but close, personal experience. But this war had served up a million different flavors of trauma, each with their own, particular triggers. Jazz's first thought was that this was a mech with a personal grudge against him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd had the horrible experience of having to face someone (or the friend/cohort of someone) he'd fought or interrogated. But he didn't remember that mech and evidently he'd hit this mech's trigger just by being an ex-Decepticon--

Frag.

Jazz sent out a ping to determine Sniper's location. Luckily, their OTHER resident ex-Decepticon was in his quarters. "M'tellin' Sniper to stay in his quarters for now. We'll have to update him with specifics if this is gonna be...a thing?"

[Deleted]

Optimus was still looking after Fort Max, as if tracking even through the walls where the warden was slouching his way through the base to yet another med bay, as though whatever time he’d spent in Delphi was not enough. And part of the Prime, the tactical part, said: Well maybe it wasn’t enough time. And Optimus wondered about the state of Autobot Command; a laughable concept with Cybertron broken and their numbers sheared so critically low. Some fragmented arrangement of CO’s and upper-rank military trying to hold it together and survive while Optimus and Team Prime fought to close the war on the fringe of civilized space.

They probably didn’t have time for duty of care.

“I will not be a 'thing'," said Optimus somewhat tensely. He looked to his lieutenant, genuine regret crossing his field. " I will speak to Sniper and Max both individually. Jazz, are you alright?” He turned away from the door to give his attention to him and Smokescreen.

"I should have debriefed Maximus more extensively before…” More extensively how? Maximus, by the way, are you going to inexplicably try to kill my 3rd lieutenant who has been a notable military figure in the Autobot army for a centuries now. “…letting him meet the rest of the team.” Why would be you apprehensive about him meeting the rest of the team? He and Bumblebee were perfectly amicable.. “I apologize.”

He looked to Smokescreen as well. Here to assess Team Prime and only hour after arrival, there was in-ranks fighting. But despite that, part of him was grateful that the sometimes therapist had been there to see it.

[Deleted]

Smokescreen meanwhile was looking at the doorway. With one optic narrowed, his expression was calculating.

Well. That had been- odd.

He had met Fortress Maximus only once before, on Elba. The warden had put in a request for a psychological review of one of his guards; while Smokescreen was not a full psychiatrist, he was at least a field agent capable of making a detour to the arid little prison planet.

It hads not taken him long to see why anyone might crack at an institution like Garrus-9. The atmosphere had been dour, bleak. Intense, a crushing pressure that only worsened the deeper underground you went. Smokescreen had found his patient within the Last Resort, a heavily fortified maximum security area. They had had a nice chat, after which Smokescreen had immediately recommended his transfer. Maximus had barely spoken a dozen words during his visit, just, 'will he be all right?' and 'I'll request a replacement.' The warden had struck him as hard, but competent.

Garrus-9...

His circuits tingled, and Smokescreen looked around. He met Optimus' gaze and grimly smiled. "I have my suspicions, sir," he said, in response to an unspoken question. "I have a feeling that Prowl's excrutiatingly dry reports might have left us in the dark about some crucial details. In the meantime, wow... yeah, are you all right, Jazz?"

[Deleted]

Jazz focused again. "What? No, m'fine. He never got a hand on me. Thanks for the love, though." He tilted his helm at Smokescreen. "Sorry I kinda, y'know, left ya lyin' on the floor all target-like. Instincts kicked in. And don't even go there, Optimus. Not your fault." He thunked his fist on Optimus' shoulder. "Not your fault."

He followed where the others had been looking, optics drawn as if by magnetics. "'m more worried about him. He was SCARED, Optimus. I could feel it. Felt like...."

His field went cold, but he said it anyway. "Felt like he was really expecting me to hurt him. Not just kill him." That was a different fear. No, this had been tinged with a sheen of dread that Jazz remembered from his worst days as a Decepticon. "HURT him."

Jazz waited a beat, then clapped a hand on Smokescreen's shoulder. "Welcome to the team."