I can't tell what inspired me to write this little oneshot, but well. Practically I shouldn't be able to write anything right now because I'm in the middle of nowhere in New Zealand, but as it seems fate wanted me to have a laptop and a good internet connection at my hands right now, so… please enjoy ;)

Transformers belongs to Hasbro.

Returned From The Dead

He wasn't so sure how he was supposed to feel as he entered his office, stopping in front of his desk to brace his upper torso on his knuckles placed on its surface. He didn't turn around to face the bot behind him, for he didn't know if he would be able to keep his composure if he did. He was the commander, frag it, and he wasn't meant to show any sign of weakness, no matter the situation. But this, he thought, this was definitely too much. He heard the door to the hallway outside close with a soft click and for a moment there was utter and complete silence.

"I'm sorry." The other Autobot finally said, the voice so very familiar and yet surreal in his audios, like a reminder of times long gone, dead and buried. No one should have to deal with the reopening of old and deep wounds such as these.

"Sorry", he said dryly, trying to keep his voice devoid of any emotion in fear of revealing the horrible turmoil his spark was in. "Is that all you can think of after all these stellar cycles."

"You don't understand… it was necessary."

"Necessary? What, to spread this infernal lie and make everyone believe you were dead?"

"Exactly." He couldn't help but turn around now, even if everything about his posture and expression must have given away how insecure he was right now. He had to see her. Meet her optic to optic to show her how little acceptance he had for the cruel charade. Looking at the tall, rose and silver coloured femme felt like a nasty mockery to him, as if some sadistic force was messing with his perception to torture him with images of what he had lost.

"Do you realize what you have done to… the Autobots? So much might have been saved, had we not been so drastically outnumbered. You just left when we needed every single warrior we could deploy-"

"Don't pretend this is just about the Autobot cause, Optimus Prime. This is a lot more personal than you want to admit." His mouth snapped shut and his optics flashed agitatedly. The female Cybertronian continued slowly, meeting his sour gaze firmly. "I know I've hurt you, very much so. Don't believe it wasn't just as painful for me to leave you behind sparkbroken and not being able to return to you or even let you know I hadn't offlined. But as I said, it was necessary." With a softer tone, she added "And if you allow it, I will make it up to you."

Optimus looked down, fixing his optics to a random spot on the cold concrete floor and leaning back to rest against the front of his desk in deep thought. On a personal level, he should have accepted her apology and just go with it… as the Prime, however, he couldn't tolerate a betrayal of this magnitude. "It is far from me to carry a grudge, you know that, but I cannot tell if I can forgive you just like that, no matter the explanation. Bots died, Elita." Her designation somehow felt foul in his mouth, like it was wrong on several levels to address anyone by it anymore. "Bots we might have been able to save with the aid of your troops."

"Tyger Pax was a disaster, I know. But we couldn't interfere- I had lost one third of my team during the Simfur mission, several more were damaged seriously. It's a miracle we made it out of there at all. But I am not here to deliver excuses because the condition of my troops was not actually the reason I left, I won't deny it."

"Then what in the name of Cybertron", he said, "was so important you would just abandon us? The fate of our entire world was determined in that battle and we lost."

"Our home was lost long before the final fight. Everybody knew, they just wouldn't admit it."

"Well, I am waiting. You said you could explain, so please." Optimus went around his desk to sit down on the chair behind it heavily, pretending to be all business, which both of them knew he actually wasn't. "Explain."

"The reason… is Hedon. You have met him earlier after we landed our ship."

"Hedon?" He remembered the dark blue and silver young mech vaguely... he seemed to be a nice kid, rather unsuspicious. How could he possibly be the reason for her sudden disappearance? Shaking off that ridiculous pang of jealousy he couldn't help but feel, he told himself to focus. Hedon couldn't be much older than Bumblebee, there was no way Elita would have considered him as a mate-

"It's not what you're thinking, you possessive old lugnut."

"What does that mech have to do with anything, then?" He snapped, growing impatient. Had the conversations with the femme commander always been this exhaustingly torturous? Elita laced her fingers in front of her and stretched her arms somewhat tensely. It seemed to be a distraction from her nervousness more than anything though.

"He is your son." The Prime's intakes hitched, his hands felt as if they were frozen and he went completely still. Among all the possible impossibilities which could have led to Elita behaving the way she had, this was the one he would have thought would be the least likely… pit, he hadn't even considered it. The shock wore off slowly and eventually he managed to get his vocalizer to emit sound again.

"My… no, it cannot be-"

"Don't tell me I've got to explain the birds and bees to you, Optimus." He huffed- he didn't even think about granting her an answer for that smartaft remark.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have… found a solution." The femme put her hands on her hips and issued a short, sarcastic laugh.

"Oh yeah? Should I just have called you, maybe even on an unencrypted channel to tell you I'm carrying? We were in the middle of a fragging war, it was neither the time nor the place to have a sparkling. Especially since it was yours… Primus, if anyone had found out about it, we might as well have painted a big, bright target on my chest for the whole Decepticon army to see. Don't get me wrong, serving the cause was my life, but when I had to choose between the Autobots and our offspring…"

"I suppose… he would have been the most endangered bot in the universe. Still…" Still it hurt, he wanted to say. It hurt to have been left with the certainty that she had been killed and it fragging hurt to know she had been keeping his sparkling away from him… even if it had been the only sensible solution at that time. It hurt to not have seen his son grow up and to not have been able to spend time with him… to know him. He had always wanted sparklings of his own, yes, but not in a situation in which he couldn't guarantee their save and happy upbringing…

"I know what you must feel like, Optimus." Elita said, slowly rounding the desk and finally putting her arms around his neck from behind gently. He had to reign himself in to not twitch at the contact. "But what you should focus on now is the situation at hand, not what should have been. Hedon is a wonderful young mech. Gentle, compassionate and brave… just like his father."

Optimus sighed, lifting his hand to caress her lower arm on top of his chest. "Does he know?"

"No. Not yet." She whispered before she pressed a slow kiss to one of his sensitive audio finials. "It's going to be a shock for him."

"Yes…" Her kisses were quickly becoming quite distracting and thankfully he finally managed to relax somewhat so he could appreciate them, but still the whole thing kept nagging at his processor. "Do you remember what you said when we first met?" He asked quietly, closing his optics and leaning back into her. She chuckled against his audio.

"I said I would either kill you or bond with you." Optimus Prime took the hand of his mate, his mate who had just returned from the dead to tell him he had a son and to snuggle up against his back. He kissed it, then he turned around to her halfway to look at her. Her optics were dimmed, her silver- white faceplate as beautiful as ever, her lips so inviting…

"That pretty much summarizes how I feel about you right now." He didn't give her time to respond before he pressed his lips on hers, reclaiming what was so rightfully his.