"Can't go to sleep, Sharkticons will eat me . . . Can't go to sleep, Sharkticons will eat me . . . Can't go to sleep, Sharkticons will eat me . . ."
Red Alert sat alone in a small, darkened room, huddled in a corner.
"Can't go to sleep, Sharkticons will eat me . . . Can't go to sleep, Sharkticons will eat me . . . Can't go to sleep, Sharkticons will eat me . . ."
It was his mantra. Red hardly said anything else while he was in his room. He just sat in his corner, rocking back and forth on his heels.
So involved was he in chanting his mantra that Red Alert did not notice the door opening and three others entered, one of them in energy bonds.
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"What's this?"
"Your new room, Galvatron."
The Mech in the energy bonds looked around in disdain, quietly noting the sparse furnishings and the eerie chanting of the room's other occupant. What were Sharkticons anyway?
As he was taking everything in, the two guards took the opportunity to leave the room and seal the door from the outside.
"Enjoy your new accommodations, Galvatron!" one called out rather cheerfully.
"I believe I shall," Galvatron murmured, heading for an empty corner as far away from his new roommate as possible. As he walked, his energy bonds disappeared, allowing him more freedom to move. Carefully, he sat down and closed his optics, becoming lost in his own myriad of thoughts. One thought stood out among the rest:
He hated Webworld.
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All around him he heard the sound of harsh laughter. He tried to get up to run but the Miracle Whip and cheddar cheese slices held him in place.
"Red Alert on rye goooood," a voice chortled.
He let out a strangled cry.
"No I'm not! I'm not good on any kind of bread! I'm not good with anything!"
"Red Alert on rye gooood," another voice chortled.
"Red Alert good with salami . . ."
" . . . And mozzarella . . ."
"Lettuce . . ."
"Tomatoes . . ."
"Onions . . ."
"And pickles . . ."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Red screamed as the condiments and food stuffs were placed upon him . . .
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Galvatron opened his optics to see two guards, Jazz and Thundercracker, trying to restrain his roommate. With a detached expression, he noted his roommate had a look of absolute horror on his face. Then he saw that his roommate was looking at him.
"DECEPTICON!"
Jazz and Thundercracker exchanged weary sighs as they continued to hold onto him.
"Yes, Red, he's a Decepticon. So am I," Thundercracker explained patiently.
"But he's the enemy!" Red wailed. "And you're dead, Thundercracker!"
Jazz nearly started laughing at that but instantly bit it back when Thundercracker gave him a funny look. It was beginning to amuse Galvatron.
"Jazz, Thundercracker," a voice boomed into the room. "Please bring Red Alert into the therapy room. And make sure Galvatron's secured when you leave. We don't need him hunting down Optimus Prime again."
"Yes, Ironhide," the two chorused. In an instant, energy bonds appeared on both himself and Red Alert, his keeping him in place. As Jazz and Thundercracker walked out with Red Alert, Galvatron heard his roommate ask, "What's an Optimus Prime?"
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Ironhide was sitting in the therapy room, reading some notes on a datapad and drinking a mug of hot energon when Megatron walked in.
"He's only going to get worse," Megatron observed casually. "Especially with Galvatron as his roommate."
"I know," Ironhide replied, a hint of anger in his voice. "But you tell that to the administration. They don't care about the potential dangers. They just want to get more patients in."
Megatron merely nodded. He knew Ironhide was just as upset about the situation as he was and he made a mental note to talk to Ultra Magnus and Shockwave about it. Right now, a change of subject was desperately needed.
"What was it this time?" he asked. "The sandwich dream?"
Ironhide nodded. "Yeah. Woke up screaming that he wasn't good with any kind of condiment."
Megatron chuckled at that in spite of himself. Though Red Alert's condition was very serious, some of the things that came from his demented mind were a bit hilarious. The sandwich dream was one of them. Something suddenly occurred to him.
"Red's not been taking his meds again, has he?"
"You got it. Told Sunstreaker we were trying to poison him."
Megatron sighed and sat down across from Ironhide. The cycle had begun once more and they were running out of treatment options.
"Let me guess as to what's available to us . . . Telepathy and stasis lock . . ."
"Yep," Ironhide said. "Though Springer wants to take Red totally offline to find out where the glitch is."
"Does Springer not read the charts and the files!"
"Apparently not. But it's not going to matter what his recommendations are going to be. I've talked with Starscream. We have complete control over which treatments we can use so I've taken the liberty of talking to Soundwave about telepathy treatment."
"They're going to be wary about sending someone to talk with him," Megatron cautioned. "Especially after he killed Brawn and then went after Skywarp."
"I know. But Rodimus and Cyclonus will be confronting The Guild about Galvatron as well."
"Really now," Megatron raised an optic ridge. "How are they taking Galvatron's new accommodations?"
"As well as Elita did when Rumble and Frenzy stuck two nests of glitchmice in her cabinets," Ironhide snorted.
Megatron nodded slightly and was about to say more when Jazz and Thundercracker arrived with Red Alert. It was time for the session to begin.
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Red Alert hated the therapy room. He also hated his two psychiatrists, Ironhide and Megatron. They didn't understand that the Autobots and Decepticons were at war and that there were two greater threats out there. With Unicron's coming and the Quintessons with their Sharkticons after them, the Autobots were doomed!
"Have a seat, Red," Ironhide stated. "This isn't going to take long."
Red's optics darted between the two as he sat down.
"We're doomed, you know," he said ominously. "Unicron and the Quintessons are coming. And Liana Bluestar and Starchaser will twist you into what they want you to be for Legends' Children. We're doomed. Doomed."
Ironhide and Megatron blinked at that.
"Liana Bluestar?"
"Starchaser?"
"Legends' Children?"
"Red," Ironhide began, "you're being paranoid. You need your meds. Then you'll understand that there are no Sharkticons, no Unicron, no Quintessons . . . No Liana Bluestar and Starchaser and certainly no Legends' Children. You'll also understand that we're not doomed."
"But we are!" Red Alert insisted. "Liana Bluestar and Starchaser are real and they will doom us all! Legends' Children, Unicron, and the Quintessons are the very bane to our existence!"
At that Ironhide and Megatron started laughing. Not their normal deep laughs but girlish human laughs. Red Alert was perplexed. Slowly, he shook his head . . .
--
Red Alert opened his optics and saw the ceiling to his private quarters in the Ark. Somehow, he heard voices but not in his head. Curious, he got up to investigate.
At the Ark's entrance stood Optimus Prime along with Ironhide, Prowl, Jazz, Ultra Magnus, Elita-1, Chromia, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Tracks. In front of them were the two authors of Legends' Children, Autumn "Liana Bluestar" Ronk and Lise "Starchaser" Radke, and the two girls were laughing.
"I didn't get to see it," Autumn was saying in between giggles, "but I wish I had. Sounds like a very good story idea. Red Alert on Rye! 'Can't go to sleep, the Sharkticons will eat me . . .'"
THE END!