Driven
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. They officially belong to Hasbro and Takara. I'm taking them for a short spin.
"Sometimes solutions aren't so simple,
Sometimes good bye's the only way."
--Shadow of the Day, Linkin Park
Hot Rod raced into the night. He reveled in the feeling of the cold night air rushing over his sleek new form, the stars shining overhead in the black, alien sky. He was lost in the sense of the road beneath his tires, the sound of the wind singing in his audios. For the moment, he was free. An ill-gotten gain, but still, he was free.
Bypassing the security codes to his quarters was easy, sneaking away was not, but here he was, escaping. The desire to get away was so strong it almost drove him mad, and his need to be alone was even more imperative. Most of the others back at base treated him like he'd break at any moment. He heard the whispers from the humans, and his own kind alike--that he was broken, that he would never be the same again. But what did they know?
All he knew was that everything felt. . .wrong. He didn't exactly feel like himself anymore, and he knew even Kup realized that, but he tried to treat him like he was still someone, that he still mattered. Even Prime worried, but he gave him the benefit of the doubt. Since he'd been let out of the med bay days before, those two, along with Ratchet, and the three young humans, Sam, Mikaela and Capt. Lennox were the only ones who didn't shun him, treat him different.
Ironhide wouldn't look at him. Hot Rod knew it had less to do with his temporary maiming of the weapons expert, which he didn't remember, and everything to do with what he couldn't, wouldn't go back to.
The young Autobot switched his thoughts back to the road, pushing his newly-repaired body to its limits. He knew he shouldn't, but he didn't care. Not anymore. Nor did he give a damn about the potential for running into Decepticons. The Decepticon Barricade had been sighted frequently around the base recently, and where one was, more were sure to follow. So much the better for me, Hot Rod thought. He relished the anticipation of possible conflict. Every Decepticon dead was one more closer to his goal. Shockwave. He'd die if they ever met again. Hot Rod swore on that, counted on it.
That brought him back to his original line of thinking. Escape. Speeding down the highway took away the pain, anger and grief. Made him forget for a while he was desperately trying to remember something he probably didn't want to remember. It also brought back good memories--racing with Blurr before they both joined the defense forces, getting in trouble with Springer more times than he could count and all the things that made life worth living. But maybe life wasn't worth living anymore. . .
He broke off his morbid reasoning again. This time, someone comming him, which he ignored. A few miles flew by before the other mech tried again, just a silent burst to try to get him to talk. Hot Rod slowed, scanning the area to see who it was. Probably not Jazz, as he was only out of the med bay a few days himself. Probably not Prowl, who wouldn't be so courteous before a potential confrontation. No. This time, it was Optimus Prime himself come to drag the errant bot home.
Hot Rod slowed even more, willing his leader to catch up.
It didn't take very long. The bulk of Prime's vehicle form soon caught up, pulling alongside the smaller mech, easing him off the road. But Hot Rod wasn't in the mood. As soon as Prime stopped, Hot Rod transformed. Optimus followed suit, staring down the younger Autobot.
"If you come back willingly, you won't be put in confinement," Prime said.
"Like that matters," Hot Rod said. "What do you consider being locked in my quarters?"
Optimus ignored the outburst. "You've only just been let out of the med bay," he said. "Do you want to go back?"
"Is that a threat?" Hot Rod said.
Prime vented air, sighing in frustration.
"No, it is not. Please, Hot Rod, return to base with me,"
"Why should I?"
Prime shuttered his optics a few times. Hot Rod had him there. The young bot didn't have many reasons to want to go back.
"I didn't think you could come up with a good reason," Hot Rod said.
"I see we're going to have to do this the hard way. . ." Prime said, taking a step forward.
Before Optimus could say another word, before he could react, Hot Rod transformed, peeling out, turning a half-circle at high speed to gain some distance, then drove straight at him. A split second later, Prime found himself flat on his back, one of Hot Rod's knees in his throat, pinning him down. The orange and black mech's left hand was wrapped partially around his throat, and his right hand was retracted, revealing a spinning saw blade, the only weapon they allowed Hot Rod, which, come to think of it, was probably a mistake, Prime realized.
"You're slow," Hot Rod said.
"And you have no idea how sorry you're going to be," Optimus replied.
He punched Hot Rod, regretting it as he heard the sound of crunching metal, watched Hot Rod fall away from him as he stood.
"Now will you come back to base?"
Hot Rod picked himself up off the ground, frowning.
Prime cringed when he saw the energon leaking from the other Autobot's mouth.
Hot Rod, dismayed with the pity in his leader's eyes, lunged. He slashed up with his blade, slicing into the left side of Prime's battle mask as it slid into place. Prime ducked, offlining his optics from the sparks flying as the blade cut into his face. He clasped his hands together, making his arms into a club, knocking Hot Rod to the ground with both fists.
Onlining his optics, he looked down, reaching, picking up Hot Rod by the throat.
"You dare challenge my authority? Bring your weapons to bear on me again and you will die," Prime said.
"Is that a promise?" Hot Rod rasped. "Because you sound just like him."
Prime dropped Hot Rod, stepping back, staring down at the young mech. Hot Rod stared back, panting, holding his throat.
Optimus started to reach down to help Hot Rod up, but Hot Rod swatted his hand away.
"I don't want your pity," he said.
Angry now, the moment of danger past, Optimus wanted nothing more than to see Hot Rod offlined in the med bay again, but he held back.
"Then what is it you want?" Prime said. "And why must you leave me to finish what you start, Hot Rod?"
"I. . .I don't want to be left alone. . ." Hot Rod said.
Prime knelt down by him. "You're not alone. Please, Hot Rod, come back to base. I promise you if you come back, you will no longer be under confinement. Do not force me to take more drastic measures. . ."
Hot Rod was silent for a moment, thinking.
"All right," he said.
Optimus stood, again offering a hand, which Hot Rod accepted.
--
He followed Hot Rod back to base, walked him to his quarters. The young Autobot was much subdued, not calm, but sullen. A very unusual state for him, but not strange considering recent circumstances.
"You're not going to make me see Ratchet?" Hot Rod said as they entered his quarters, suspicious.
"Not until morning, if you promise me not to pull another stunt like tonight's," Prime said.
"I can't promise anything," Hot Rod said. "But I'll try. Is that enough?"
Prime fought back another sigh.
"For now, it will have to be enough," he said, giving Hot Rod a gentle shove toward his berth. "You should get some recharge. Let me worry about Ratchet."
"You'd do that?"
"Don't you trust me?" Prime asked.
Hot Rod didn't answer.
"As I said, I will deal with Ratchet. Try to rest," Prime said. "All right?"
Hot Rod nodded, accepting, sitting down on the berth.
Prime turned to go.
"Stay?" Hot Rod asked.
Prime stopped, considering. It would not hurt to stay at least until the younger Autobot fell into recharge.
--
He sat in a chair by Hot Rod's berth, staying well after he had fallen into a deep recharge. The small bit of trust Hot Rod showed was a start. Small, but a start nonetheless. He'd never meant to let their earlier confrontation to escalate as it did, but Hot Rod did know how to goad. And he'd managed to get his attention.
Bringing up Megatron earned Hot Rod no favors.
Optimus never let anyone see his own loneliness. He'd silenced the other's voice, broken their bond, eliminating the presence that was with him since their first moment of awareness. As a twin, Megatron was always with him. Through the good and bad, until his brother was consumed with madness. It had taken every bit of his strength to sever the bond, and it had very nearly cost him his own life. But he was still alive, and would go on as long as he could. And Prime willed Hot Rod to find the desire to go on once more.
He looked down at Hot Rod's sleeping form, deciding it was time to go.
--
Kup cocked an optic ridge, seeing Prime coming around the corridor. It wasn't unusual to see the Autobot leader up all hours of the night, but it was to see him covered in dirt, dented and deep gouges cut into his armor.
"What happened to you?" Kup asked.
"Hot Rod."
"Get out again, did he?" Kup said.
The look on Prime's face said it all.
"That bad?"
"You have no idea. Was he ever this. . ."
"Difficult? Bad before? Oh yeah. You only got to see him when he was on really good behavior," Kup said, grinning. "Speaking of, where is he?"
"In his quarters," Prime said.
"Under lockdown, I suppose?"
"No," Prime said.
"Are you out of your mind?" Kup said.
"I promised him if he came back willingly, he would not be put under confinement again."
"Taking a chance, aren't you? But you've started to earn his trust. I'm glad to see that. Maybe now that he sees not everyone thinks he's going out of his mind he'll start to move past this," Kup said.
"I hope you're right," Prime said.
"You did it by being Optimus, not Prime, and that's what he needs right now--a friend. I'm doing all I can, but between trying to get this base whipped into shape and helping the humans, I'm spread thin. I think it'll get even better when Springer gets here, but that's days away," Kup said.
"He always did have a problem with authority," Optimus said.
"Not always. At least not you," Kup said.
"He did tonight."
"Ask him why?"
"No," Optimus answered.
"Maybe you should," Kup said. "Go get some rest."
Optimus nodded, watching Kup go, hoping the ancient mech was right.