New ships were arriving every week, crews of Cybertronians flocking back, 'bot and 'con alike. They had all received the same message, the war was over, it didn't matter what faction you belonged to, it was time to forget the past and begin building the future. Most were overjoyed that the years of fighting were done, and came ready to throw aside what they had been previously. Tension was very present, those who had unsettled business struggled with moving forward, but they were on their way.

Habitants were arriving faster than buildings were being built. One apartment building had been finished, and two more were on the way. The first goal was making living space for those returning home. Many still had to stay in their ships, or sleep in tents, while more living space was underway. The first rebuilt city would consist mainly of apartment buildings and housing units, just to support the new life. Bulkhead had kindly stepped forward, and was leading the construction, put in a position of responsibility and leadership. He had done wonders for their planet. His first building was beautiful, created with great passion and care, as were all of his projects. Optimus found himself pleasantly surprised with the wrecker. He was proud to call the green mech a friend.

Ratchet had collected his belongings from Earth, and was on Cybertron to stay. He assisted in creating plans for Bulkhead's projects, his knack for engineering roaring to life. During the day, he was consulting construction workers, meeting with Bulkhead, and assisting Knock Out in providing any and all with medical care. At night, he was cozied up with Optimus, proofreading his reports, massaging his back, and sharing his berth. Both of them were under stress, but as they had always before, made time for one another. Optimus made it his goal to greet every single incoming habitant, personally welcoming them home. He kept records of everyone returning, and showed them where they could help based off of their strengths. He had made many friends, and he was proud that nobody seemed to hate him.

Many days, Ratchet would be at his side when he was at his welcoming post. He had grown very accustomed to the line: "Hello, I am Optimus Prime, this is my mate, Ratchet."

For the first time, they were open about their relationship. All of the feedback was positive, and everyone congratulated them kindly. Incoming habitants were often charmed to be greeted by a happy couple.

Everything was going so, so well.

Optimus was turning this over in his helm as he stood at the opening of the city, his mate by his side, watching a ship land a small distance away. "Decepticon," Ratchet murmured to him, gesturing to the large purple insignia. "Former ones, at least." He added.

The crew was small, three mechs, all polite and eager to take part. None of this was out of the ordinary, other than the fact that one of them was an Insecticon. The beast was decorated with faded purple and green, and his visor was bright and shining. Optimus didn't let his surprise show. It was shocking that this creature was a part of a crew instead of a hive. It was even more shocking that he was extremely charming.

"Greetings! Welcome home. I am Optimus Prime, and this is my mate, Ratchet."

The other two mechs nodded and shook hands, while the Insecticon stepped forward eagerly. "And a beautiful one at that, thank you for coming to greet us! I had half a mind to expect an ambush. Instead, we've had the honor of meeting the two of you. I'm Kickback, it's a pleasure." He bowed. His voice was shrill and had a slight echo to it, sounding from deep in his throat.

"The pleasure is ours." Ratchet bowed his helm, exchanging a pleasant look with his leader. "Welcome back to Cybertron."

The crew fit in easily, and Kickback joined the construction. Optimus saw him at the same time every morning, exchanging pleasant greetings with Bulkhead. He was punctual, polite, and a hard worker. Optimus felt that he had been judgemental of Insecticons in the past, in all honesty, he had never known them to have such kind capacity.

The weeks were going by quickly.

It was all going so well.

And by some gift from Primus, it got better.

One early morning, Optimus was enjoying warm energon with Bulkhead, Kickback and Arcee, discussing that day's tasks, when his com channel clicked and rang with Knock Out's voice. He turned away and answered with a morning greeting.

"Hey there, Big Red. Wanted to give you a ring, and let you know that I just sent Ratchet back to your quarters. He's not feeling very well, and threw a fit when I forced him out. Bee had to walk him and put him to bed."

Optimus frowned. "Do you know what is wrong with him?"

"He wouldn't sit still for a scan. You bonded to a rock of a mech, I've never met someone so damn stubborn-"

"Did it seem serious?" Behind him, the trio was staring worriedly. Kickback refilled his cube with warm, fresh energon.

"Relax, Ops. It's most likely just a bug, with 'bots and 'cons coming back from all over, who knows what he's been exposed to. It'll run its course and will be over quickly. In the meantime, you have to sleep next his grumbling aft."

Optimus vented. "Thank you, Knock Out." He ended the channel, turning back to the others.

"Do you need to go?" Arcee questioned.

"If it's something serious, Ratchet will contact me. During my break, I will go to see him." Trusting Knock Out felt odd, but comforting. The red mech didn't seem too worried. He picked up a datapad and began flicking through.

"Remember that we can cover for you." Kickback offered.

"Thank you, but I believe if there was a bad complication, Knock Out would inform me. As would Ratchet." The Prime nodded to them, smiling and sipping the refilled cube. "Now, today's coursework."

In their shared room on the Nemesis, Ratchet was sitting on the edge of their berth, staring at his arm with wide, watery optics. The screen was open, Autobot code blinking, results popping up beside bullet points. He hadn't inhaled for minutes, and while he didn't need to breathe, it still made his chest tighten. Shakily, he climbed off of the berth, pacing once, twice, before finally making a decision and hurrying out the door.

Optimus was helping three vehicons lift a heavy panel up to Kickback and Bulkhead, grunting with the effort, when the Insecticon stopped and pointed. "Prime, shouldn't Ratchet be resting?" He asked curiously.

"Will you focus?!" One of the vehicons snapped, but Optimus was already distracted, and was lowering it back to the ground.

"What did you say? The Prime panted, stretching his shoulders.

"Uh, why is Ratch here? I thought he was sick." Bulkhead was now staring in the same direction as Kickback. Optimus turned around, glimpsing an orange and white paint job from behind workers carrying newly painted panels. He turned his audio receptors range up a few clicks, listening through all the construction noise.

"Excuse me, do you know where Optimus is?" His mate was asking somebot.

"Please, excuse me," Optimus said to those he had been helping and weaved through the worksite towards his medic. Their optics met, and Ratchet's cheeks were wet with tears. Panic surged through Optimus, and he picked up his pace, nearly sprinting to his medic. "What is it, what's wro-!"

Ratchet crashed into him, leaping onto his chest and throwing his arms around his neck. Optimus stumbled for one stride, centering his weight and catching his mate. His spark was pounding in it's chamber, he was burning with anxiety.

"Ratchet," he breathed, embracing Ratchet. He didn't care that everyone was staring at them. He didn't care that Ratchet's pedes weren't touching the ground, and that he was supporting all of the medic's weight, despite his sore muscles. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Ratchet shook his helm, pulling back to look into his mate's optics with a beaming smile. "No." He purred. "Try again."

"You're scaring me." Optimus whispered, as to not be heard. "What happened? Knock Out told me that you were ill."

"Not ill." Ratchet ran his servo down Optimus' cheek, stroking it gently, and his mate leaned into the touch. "Sparked." He pressed their forehelms together, laughing heartily at Optimus' wide optics. "I'm not ill. My handsome mate put a sparkling in me, that's all."

Optimus gasped softly, hugging him tighter against his chest. "That's wonderful," he murmured in awe. "Oh Primus, that's wonderful. Ratchet. . . Ratchet, we're having a sparkling."

His medic kissed his forehelm, laughing again. "You're going to be a sire."

"I'm going to be a sire," Optimus repeated, louder, in disbelief. Around them, there were cheers and clapping. Lowering Ratchet to his pedes, but keeping him in an embrace, he announced bashfully to those watching, "We're having a sparkling."

Bulkhead and Kickback appeared at his side. Bulkhead rested a supportive servo on his shoulder, and Kickback was proudly clapping.

Things were going oh so well.