Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day! This was a challenge from fanfiction author Lieutenant Myst.

Optimus was a cautious mech; it's what kept him alive throughout the war. Along with the feeling of hope. The hope for a better future, a future for the younglings now orphaned, a future for peace, and a free world. But Optimus was also realistic. He knew that any hopes for peace talks with the Decepticons would never happen. But he couldn't deny the small hope that stirred within his spark. The message he had received, requesting his presence and that he come alone had burned into his processor. He had been given three days to think the offer over, before coming to a decision that he would seize this opportunity.

The day was slowly turning to night as Optimus made his way through the familiar land, his pede steps silent. He kept his senses alert, well aware that this may well be a trap. Doubt began to swirl around as he reconsidered his actions. Maybe he should have told someone what he was doing. But Elita would have wanted to come, Ironhide would have locked him up while Ratchet sedated him, declaring that his processor needed to be checked as he must have clearly lost his mind for even considering this meeting. But it was too late for him to turn back now, and he had to keep his emotions calm, or else Elita would immediately sense that something was wrong through the bond they shared.

He approached the toppled down, old ruin, his optics drawn to the lone figure leaning casually against the crumbling tower. Despite the mech's height, the tower did not give way, remaining as strong and steady as ever.

"I was not sure you would come," the silver mech said as Optimus approached.

The Prime sensed no trap as he approached the other Cybertronian, yet he remained wary. "I was not expecting for you to demand my presence," he commented.

Megatron chuckled. "Yes, well, I gave you three days to think it over." He looked at his enemy. "What made you come alone?"

Optimus looked around at the ruin, memories stirring inside both mechs. "This place holds too many fond memories for you to tarnish it with my spilled energon," Optimus said finally. "Even throughout the war, it has remained untouched by both sides."

Megatron nodded slowly, his red optics dim as if lost in thought. "This is where we would hide from our busy lives," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice. "The place we would come to discuss our strategies for approaching the council. A place where we would dream of a better future with no caste systems and corrupt government."

"What is your reason for coming here?" Optimus asked quickly. He did not need to be reminded of the times when he was at peace with his brother, the times when there was no war, and no torn bond. He could not show how this place affected him, as it would be a weakness that Megatron would exploit.

But Megatron did not look ready to fight. Instead, he looked...bored. "I grow weary of this war, Optimus. And I wish for it to come to an end."

Shock and anger stirred inside Optimus. "You wish to end this war because you are weary?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the harshness out of his tone. How many lives had been lost in this war? How many had suffered? And Megatron wanted it all to end just because he said so? Optimus also wanted peace, but at this moment, he was alert. There had to be a catch to this so called 'peace.'

But Megatron looked sincere. "Our planet will be destroyed unless a truce is made," the warlord said. "And that is no future for us. For the sparklings." He turned to look at Optimus. "It needs to end, and it needs to end now."

Optimus tried to dampen down the hope and joy he was feeling. This had to be a trick, there had to be a catch. He searched his brother's face, looking for any hidden deception. But all he saw was weariness, and...hope?

"You are hesitant," Megatron said after a short moment of silence.

"I want to believe you," Optimus confessed. "But a truce between Autobots and Decepticons; how long do you expect me to believe that will last?"

"And you are wise to be cautious," Megatron interrupted. "I would expect nothing less from you. But if you do not trust my words, then trust my actions. I have pulled my troops back, even as we speak. They are awaiting my command to either cease their fire, or return to their attacks."

Optimus's optics widened, the only sign of his surprise. "The Decepticons are that willing to surrender?"

"Not surrender," Megatron snapped. "Negotiate. There will be no winner in this war, only a meager peace treaty." He paused. "And yes, I have been having some uprisings. But Soundwave and Barricade are taking care of it."

Optimus narrowed his optics. "And what treaty would you have in mind?"

Megatron hesitated, the only sign of his nervousness that Optimus could see. Nothing ever concerned Megatron, just what had him so worried?

"My...advisors have talked this out with me," he said finally. "And they believe the best course of action would be to unite the Autobot and Decepticon younglings in the hopes of...creating healthy and safe relationships."

"You mean an alliance between a mech and femme through a spark bond," Optimus said bluntly.

Megatron's shoulders sagged with relief, and had the circumstances been any different, Optimus would have been amused at the warlord's reaction. "Yes, quite so."

Optimus's mind was spinning now as he processed this information. Was this some ploy the Decepticons had come up with? If so, then what had they hoped to gain? Other then to kill the Autobot leader of course, but why come up with this type of proposal? Surely there were other, more creative ways to get Optimus's guard down. But he saw no deception in Megatron, no dishonesty. But then again, hadn't his thoughts been the same when they went to face the Council? Everyone had been surprised at the sudden change in Megatron and his thirst for power.

Yet, there was that small part in Optimus, the part that would always remain Orion Pax. The part that yearned for peace. Peace for Elita and his friends. Peace for the younglings they had taken in. Peace for the future. It was a small voice inside his head that started as an enticing whisper, only to grow into a loud demand. A plea.

"If this were to happen," Optimus said slowly, phrasing his words carefully. "What would you hope to gain?"

Megatron blinked. "Only to have peace between the Autobots and Decepticons, and to stop this destructive war."

"But there would still be the Autobot and Decepticon faction," Optimus pointed out. Both he and Megatron knew that there were Cybertronians on both sides who wouldn't settle for anything less than either side on top. For some, victory was the only way to achieve peace.

Megatron nodded. "I have thought it out as well and have come to the conclusion that with hope, the newest generation will grow up not knowing of the war and the feud as we do. Autobot and Decepticon would merely be a name between two different factions of the past."

Optimus considered it for a moment. "You hope to create a mixed faction."

Megatron nodded. "Exactly."

The Prime frowned. "And who is to say you won't try to corrupt this younger generation, and take over the faction?"

Megatron sighed, pain flickering in his optics. "Because it would not be me leading the faction." He suddenly looked at Optimus, sharply. "You have a son, am I correct?"

Optimus was thrown back by the sudden question. "What? No!" He and Elita had decided not to bring a sparkling into this war torn world, no matter how much they both wanted one. They found their own ways of raising sparklings with the orphans that were brought in. It was that very fear of orphaning their child that prevented them from having one in the first place.

"But you have taken in a sparkling, and are raising it, correct?" Megatron persisted.

Optimus went still. "How would you know that?" he demanded, his tone low and dangerous.

"I have my ways," Megatron said simply. "But have you named him as your own?"

But Optimus was not going to answer that question now. "You will tell me what your reason for this is," he growled, his servos flexing, ready to form into a sword.

"Because," Megatron started. And was that a tremble in his voice? "That sparkling and another chosen Decepticon will merge the Autobots and Decepticons together, uniting us all and ending the turmoil."

Optimus's gaze turned hard. "Sacrificing two innocent sparklings?"

"My inner circle won't settle for less," Megatron said, bitterness in his tone.

"And you are willing to go through with it?"

"It is not like I have a choice," Megatron snapped. "I didn't want it to happen this way. But my servos are tied and this is the only way."

There was true pain in his optics, and desperation. His red optics searched Optimus's, silently pleading for him to understand. Optimus resisted taking a step back in shock. This...this Cybertronian was not the enemy he knew. This was a changed mech, fighting for something else.

"Who changed you?" Optimus found himself asking.

Megatron's optics narrowed. "Please, consider my offer, Optimus Prime. It may be the only hope we have for a better future. And not just for ourselves, but for the lives of the sparklings that have yet to wield a weapon in war." He turned, as if to leave, before looking back. "I will be here, waiting for your reply. Talk it over with your closest allies if you must." And with that, he stepped off the ledge, transforming as he did so before zooming off.

Optimus didn't know how long he stood there, alone in the ruins. But he soon found himself walking past the large rocks, his pede steps slow and thoughtful. Movement to his right caught his attention, and it wasn't until he felt the familiar spark signature did he lower his weapons. Elita-One strode forward and out of the shadows, a sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Her gaze was sharp and curious as she regarded her mate.

Despite what had just happened, Optimus smiled. "I'm surprised you found me."

She huffed. "Optimus, we have been bonded for forever and a day. I know when you're trying to hide something." She frowned. "But I never would have thought you would be conversing with Megatron on such civil matters."

Optimus's smile grew as he shook his helm in amusement. "You were watching the whole time."

"With a rifle pointed at Megatron's helm," she said simply. She then looked at him, silently asking what was going on. Optimus sighed, gesturing for her to follow him. His explanation was short and simple, while his mate said nothing as she listened intently.

Her blue optics hardened. "How did he know about Bumblebee?" she demanded.

Optimus could not provide a clear answer. Elita was fond of the sparklings they brought in, and she cherished them all. But the little yellow sparkling held a special place in her spark. How Megatron had found that out was disturbing enough. "I do not know," he replied.

Elita frowned thoughtfully. She glanced at Optimus. "What are you going to do?"

"The idea of peace is appealing," he confessed. "Yet, it seems too good to be true."

She nodded. "We've been fighting for so long. Even if you were to accept this peace treaty, there will be challenges up ahead. It won't be easy."

Optimus nodded. "Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy. There are war criminals on both sides that will need to be dealt with. Cities will have to be reopened, leaders will need to step down from their positions."

Elita was silent for a moment, and Optimus could sense the turmoil and reluctance in her through the bond they shared. "It involves Bumblebee," she said finally, worry in her voice.

Optimus nodded, his own thoughts plagued with images of the innocent sparkling. "Yes, I believe it does."

She shook her helm. "We can't do it," she said firmly. "We can not send him away."

Optimus looked at her. "We will not," he said. "But I do not think Megatron expects us to."

She looked at him. "You're considering this?" There was no judgement in her tone, but the image of Bumblebee in her arms flashed through his mind. Yes, Bumblebee might not be theirs biologically, but he might as well have been. They loved the sparkling dearly, and Optimus and Elita were not the only ones to raise Bumblebee. There was Ironhide, Chromia, Ratchet and Jazz to consider. It had been a group effort in taking care of the sparkling. And there were times in when Jazz would argue with Chromia on when he got to take care of him. Despite what Jazz said, he loved the sparkling and would lock him up in a tower if he could. Ironhide would probably attach Bumblebee to his chassis if he thought it would keep him safe.

"Peace is worth considering," he said finally.

Elita said nothing, her expression unreadable. She just slipped her servo into his, the couple content in the silence and in their own thoughts as they continued home.

The arguments had been swift and fierce, with Ratchet being the most vocal as he was against using a sparkling in a peace treaty. But in the end, they all decided that it would be worth considering. Optimus met with Megatron in the next three days, his answer ready. During that time, no blaster fire had been shot, no bombs had gone off and no warships flew overhead. It had been a few, shaky peaceful days.

If it could even be called that.

Adjustments had been made. Such as only a select few knowing which sparklings had been chosen as the heirs to the Decepticon and Autobot agreement. Optimus and his inner circle met Megatron's unannounced heir when the warlord met them in a hidden bunker. At first, Optimus had been shocked to see his former brother cradling a sparkling, as if she was the most delicate thing he had ever held. His movements were gentle, almost as if he was afraid to disturb her. Her tiny frame was almost lost in his large arms, though his face was soft whenever he looked at her. In that moment, seeing Megatron with the sleeping sparkling, Optimus understood the warlord's motives for peace.

"She wasn't breathing when I found her," Megatron said when he and Optimus were alone. "She was wedged underneath the rubble, and I held her close for two days and three nights as I traveled across enemy territory. On the last night, I felt her spark reach out to mine, drawing in the strength she needed to survive."

Optimus looked down at the tiny femme, her blue and pink tinted body small and bright. "I do not expect you to give your sparkling up," Megatron said. "But I do expect him to be aware of his destiny."

Optimus nodded, his spark suddenly heavy. "That would be the wisest course of action."

"There are some who would rather wish that this union not take place," Megatron pointed out.

"Which is why we have made extra precautions," Optimus said. It had been decided that there would be a selected group of sparklings who would also take part in the treaty, in order to hide the identities of the heirs for safety reasons.

"But we will not force them into going along with it if they do not want to," Chromia argued one time, her optics hard. It was no secret that she was against this. But in the end, she saw that it was the only way to achieve peace without any further energon spilled.

Megatron nodded. "I agree, as their roles is only just a cover up. But the only real union that matters is the bond between the Autobot and Decepticon Heirs."

Chromia's optics narrowed, as if she wanted to argue more, but she stayed silent. That was part of the agreement that could not be changed. That was the agreement that could change the future for the better.

The announcement of the fragile peace was made to Cybertron a few days after the treaty was signed, and surprisingly, it was met with relief. Many Cybertronians were tired and wanted the fighting to end. Many wanted to return to the lives they remembered before the war, and a time where there was no more blood shed. Yet, there were many who only knew war, and refused to acknowledge peace. Those were the ones who caused the trouble. Autobots and Decepticons soon found themselves aiding each other in an effort to stop the small rebellions. Trust was not easy, and Optimus doubted it would ever come to the older generation.

Megatron and the Decepticons resided in Kaon, while a majority of the Autobots stayed in Iacon, or what used to be the large city. Many returned home in the hopes to rebuild, but they never strayed far from their respective cities. It was almost as if they were afraid to step out of line and cause another war all over again. Some were afraid that it was all a fragile dream that would shatter at any moment.

All these memories swirled around Optimus as he watched his mate, her back turned to him. She was cradling something, something precious. He approached her, knowing without looking that it was Bumblebee she was holding. His wide, innocent blue optics stared back up at them, oblivious to the fate he was destined to.

Optimus mentally shook his helm. He had to stop thinking of it as a death sentence. Bumblebee was a beacon of hope, meant to usher in a peaceful future. Yet, Optimus couldn't help but feel like he was leading an innocent to the slaughter.

"Will he hate us for what we have done?" Elita asked, gazing down at the sparkling.

Optimus blinked. He wanted to deny it. And yet, this sparkling's mate had been chosen for him already. What if it were an unhappy bond? In all likelihood, it wouldn't be one out of love like his and Elita's, or Chromia's and Ironhide's. Yet, it had been done, and there was no way to change it.

Guilt swarmed around in his spark, and he found that he couldn't look at the sparkling in his mate's arms. He should have been the one to finish the war, not Bumblebee; an innocent sparkling who couldn't even talk yet. Ironhide and Chromia were only speaking to him when necessary, and Jazz remained dull and silent. Ratchet just regarded him with sadness, as if he dreaded what was coming. The only one who hadn't changed toward him was Elita, and he was grateful for it. He could count on her to speak her mind, and to fight for what was right. He could count on her for challenging him when he made a decision she thought was wrong, and to support him when he needed it. That was the type of mate Bumblebee deserved, the type of mate Optimus wanted him to have.

Elita leaned into him, and Optimus wrapped his arms around her and the sparkling. He closed his optics, pretending that they were just a normal family, with no war and no treaties getting in the way of life. Just for a moment, and he was at peace.