Check out the poll on my profile that goes with this story. I need a pairing before I get too far. The options are: Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, or Sideswipe. Yes, the last is unusual, but if handled right, it's actually a pretty cool pairing. Let me know please!
"I can't repair it. I can replace the piece of your helmet to stop the bleeding, but not the control for the mask," Ratchet said. He held the welder up with a serious expression.
"Go ahead," Optimus responded. Giving his leader a nod, he carefully began welding the piece back on. Whenever a spark hit Optimus' face, the Autobot leader winced and almost pulled away. "Don't bother with the mask. After seeing me for what I am the first time, no one will be able to look at me the same way again." Ratchet huffed and gave Optimus a stern look.
"It's not that bad. Yeah, they'll have to readjust. But it doesn't change who you are," Ratchet told him. He finished the weld quickly before meeting Optimus' optics. "I don't see the problem. You're still Optimus Prime. With, or without a mask to hide the fangs. You've lead us into countless victories. They can't deny that."
"But they can force me out of the Autobot ranks for lying to them."
"You're over-thinking this, Prime. Don't worry so much. It'll be something you have to deal with. I knew something like this would happen when I offered to make the mask for you in the first place. You've let a couple of elongated denta, rumors, and extra coding rule your life. You not completely different from them."
"Except for the fact that the only way I can stay fully healthy is to stick my elongated denta into the neck of my own kind," Optimus responded sourly. Ratchet gave a sound that was a mix of a growl and a sigh.
"Prime! I order you to just go out there and get it over with. Slag, they're not going to shove you off a cliff or try a human rememdy for vampires on you just because you're 'one of them'. Honestly," Ratchet snapped. He crossed his arms with a glare, "We don't know a lot about the datastring that made you have this condition. But it's not a virus. Because we don't know enough, we don't even have a name for it. We just call those with sharp denta 'one of them' or other fraggin' things like that. You're not going to suck us dry over night. If you could've, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You would've already done so. You can't, because of who you are in spark. Forget about fangs for a moment Prime. All you have, is a slight difference in your coding."
"That difference makes me as bad as the Decepticons, Ratchet. My kind strikes fear into the sparks of those around them. The rumors aren't completely lies. A few have done things to make the stories spread, and as a result, every one of us is a threat. And I'd prefer not to be staring down the barrel of a gun every time I try to walk around in the sole place I can call home."
"They can't force you off planet."
"They don't have to."
Spike was halfway to dreamland where he was seated beside Bumblebee. The little yellow Autobot had a few burn marks curving around his left arm, but besides that, he had escaped the battle without injury. In fact, most of the Autobots had gotten away with nothing more than a couple of marks and scrapes. Those who were injuried, such as Cliffjumper who had his shoulder painfully out of joint, were being dealt with in a section of the Medbay that Ratchet hadn't closed off.
Bumblebee nudged the human, who jumped, speaking nonsense for a moment, before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Spike noticed that the room had gone into a stunned silence. He followed their line of sight to where Ratchet was along with Optimus Prime. Who was without his mask. Many of the Autobots allowed their optics to reset in order to find out if the sight before them was real or not. But it was.
Ratchet gave Optimus a comforting pat on the arm before moving off to help Wheeljack work on the other injured Autobots. "You have fangs?" An Autobot asked. Spike didn't catch who is was. Optimus nodded with a slight uncomfortable smile. Something none of the Autobots had ever thought they'd see. It was strange to know exactly what their leader looked like after years of guessing. And few were sure they liked what they saw.
"That's it, we're doomed!" Gears moaned. Optimus sighed and rubbed his optics briefly.
"Up until now, you never knew. A few of you did, but most of you were kept in the dark. That was how I wanted to keep it. But since you know, I can't act as if this won't bother you. The choice for what happens now is yours. If you wish for me to step down, then decide amongst yourselves, and I will comply. This is who I am. I'm sorry if it bothers you, but I can't do anything about it," Optimus said. He then walked out of the room without meeting the optics of any other bot in the room. As soon as he was out of view, the room was seized by talk of tales the Autobots had heard on Cybertron, along with what to do next with this new information.
