He was being held, like a child; rocked gently. The smell was less like machine oil and coolant and more like... hot stone. And not really like any of those things.

In his hands, I am secure, Cade thought. Optimus wouldn't drop me. And the titan did not; he cradled Cade close to his chest and hummed aimlessly, without a real tune. Like and yet unlike the deep growl of his idle in vehicle form... no, wait. There were words. The Prime was talking to Cade. Why couldn't he understand him?

You can't understand him because you're not supposed to understand him, his mind whispered. He's not talking to you in this dream.

As soon as he became aware he was dreaming, he felt a bitter surge of resentment. Now he had no choice but to wake. I won't wake up, he thought stubbornly. His limbs were too heavy to move anyway. "I don't want to wake up," he told Optimus in the dream, fully aware that he sounded like Tessa at age two. "I want to stay here with you."

Optimus was speaking again. But he hadn't quit his humming, either.

He's outside my head, Cade thought abruptly. In the real world.

He's here.

He snapped awake, head whipping automatically to the window beside his bed.

There, in the bright moonlight, was the object of his desire, Optimus Prime, peering with one brilliant glowing optic into his second-story bedroom window. The one individual he never thought he'd see again. Cade knew he wasn't hallucinating, and at the same time wondered whether he could trust his own judgment. So often, his dreams felt real. So often, he'd been disappointed.

He started to open the window – what had Optimus been saying? – but was too excited to operate the simple mechanism. He leaped from his bed and careened through the hallway, down the stairs, not even grasping for the railing. He didn't care if he fell. He was flying.

He landed on the ground beside his front porch, teeth jarring together from the impact. He half-ran, half-stumbled to Optimus' feet, looking up at the enormous alien robot looking down at him. And before either one of them said anything, Cade felt himself walk forward slowly, trembling from head to toe, and throw his arms around outside of the Prime's ankle, as far as he could reach. He wondered where the hell his precious dignity had run off to, why the hell he was hugging a robot, when he realized he was crying; and suddenly nothing mattered in the world except the answer to this one overwhelming question:

"Is it really you?"

It came out as a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder. "Optimus Prime, is it really you? Are you really back?"

"Yes, Cade Yeager, I am," and the height and depth of emotion expressed in that gentle, wild, rumbling voice was all the answer Cade had ever needed, ever.

The engineer, the inventor, the dreamer, the builder - in this moment, Cade was none of those things. In this moment, he was just a man. Nothing more.

"I missed you." It was all he could say.

The ancient metal warrior knelt carefully on one knee, leaving his other foot and leg perfectly still. He had no desire to dislodge Cade. He knew how important touch was to humans. It was only slightly less important to Cybertronians. He reached down with both hands and clasped them together, almost like a cage, surrounding his friend. When he felt the soft warmth of the human's flesh against his fingers, he stopped all pressure. He heard Cade's intake of breath, even felt the incredibly minute dampness of his friend's tears on his armor. He knew what they meant. He was touched, to his very Spark. He had never regretted more those few hours when he gave up on the entire human race. He had never been more grateful to have regained his faith in humanity.

"Spark of my Spark," Optimus replied clumsily in English - it sounded so different in Cybertronian. "Friend of friends, Cade. I have missed you too."


"How long have you been back?" Cade asked. These seats are really comfortable, he thought. Since there was no way he would get back to sleep, he had insisted on showing Optimus his new workshop. But even though he'd designed a side entrance which would allow for larger machinery to be hauled in (theoretically), the doors still wouldn't allow the bot to comfortably pass through except in vehicle form.

It never occurred to him, even once, that he had designed this place with an entryway which just happened to be large enough to accommodate an 18-wheeler.

"I have been on Earth for only a few days," Optimus replied. Cade could not just hear, but feel the deep voice all around him. Had he noticed that before? He tried to recall. "I have made contact with the other Transformers and received their reports on the current state of events."

What the hell does that even mean? Cade thought. Out loud he said, "What did they have to say?"

Optimus paused before answering. "All is well... mostly," he replied with his usual equanimity.

Cade felt himself sag a little, releasing tension he didn't know he was holding onto. "So you're not here to warn me about something."

"No, Cade Yeager," replied the Prime. "As I said previously, I am visiting you because my team informed me you had asked about me several times. Also, you were one of the first humans I wanted to see when I returned."

At that statement, Cade's heart leapt into his throat.

"When I told you I would be forever in your debt, I was not exaggerating," Optimus continued solemnly.

Cade's heart plummeted back down toward his stomach. He's just here because he felt he owed me? he thought.

"I thought of you and your Sparkling many times when I was away," Optimus continued. "Contact was sporadic and unreliable. Interstellar communication is much trickier than interplanetary. I wondered if you were safe. Your race, like mine, has a tendency to be violent and unpredictable."

Cade wasn't sure what to say to that. They were now just outside the workbuilding, and Cade knew he needed to get out and open the doors for Optimus, but somehow he couldn't tear himself away from the conversation.

"I - I'm glad you wanted to see me," he replied finally. "I wanted to see you, too. More than anything." His face reddened. "Except Tessa, of course. I mean, she's my daughter. I live to see her. Not that I'd ever tell her that. But – you know – Optimus, I wasn't sure you would ever be back. I… I wanted to be sure your systems are still in working order." His face now actually felt like it was on fire. OF COURSE, Optimus Prime would have had the chance to be properly looked at and repaired by one of his own race by now. Can't you can't say anything that doesn't make you sound like a complete moron? he raged to himself.

Optimus' engine revved in a weird, growly, rhythmic way that sounded so much like a human laugh that Cade chuckled. Then giggled. Then laughed out loud. Here he was, inside Optimus Prime at approximately three o'clock in the morning, beating himself up for being clumsy with words, when he'd been fast asleep and dreaming not twenty minutes before. Still laughing, he opened Optimus' passenger door (sitting in the driver's seat seemed impolite unless there was some emergency), leaped to the ground, and scrambled to submit his handprint.

The huge double doors swung slowly open.


"So that's about it," Cade concluded. He stood back and regarded the Prime, trying to gauge his reaction.

Optimus, back in his robot form, calmly regarded the new space: walls and walls of shelving, clean concrete floor, thirty-five-foot ceiling, bright incandescent lighting which left no corner to the imagination; every imaginable tool, inventions in progress all over the place. It was a huge workshop: larger than the old barn, far larger than one human was likely to need. His optics turned back toward the entrance he'd driven through a few minutes before. Consciously or not, Cade had built this space large enough for a machine of his size to maneuver in comfort. He almost smiled.

"Most impressive," he replied to Cade. He noticed something tacked to a wall, nearly hidden behind a rolling rack of spare parts. It was small, but he recognized the image of one of his own kind. "Cade, what is on the wall behind that wheeled mechanism?" He pointed carefully.

Cade looked in the direction Optimus was pointing, clearly puzzled. He strode over and started to push the rolling rack aside; then he jerked as if someone had zapped him, turned beet-red, and moved the rack back into its original position. He then stood in front of it, arms crossed protectively. "It's n-nothing," he stammered.

Optimus still sometimes misread human body language. He wasn't sure whether his friend was displaying fear or some other kind of discomfort. He wanted Cade to be comfortable. "Cade, let us agree to be truthful with each other," he replied. "That is an image of a Transformer. Why do you have that in here?"

Cade's eyes widened. The color drained from his face; his mouth hung open. He backed away from Optimus hastily, palms out. "No – n-no, NO, Optimus, I would never – I would never try to do what those assholes did to you! I would never!" The robot stood impassively as his human friend ranted and raved, hoping that Cade would calm down soon and explain. Humans were so fragile, so excitable, he thought with amusement. Not that Transformers weren't, in their own way. It was just that so few things on this planet could harm them…

"Cade Yeager," he interrupted after another minute or two, "I do not think that you have the desire to build a Transformer and use it for evil means. You are not like Joyce. You would not take one of us apart and try to capitalize on the remains." Cade did not reply, so Optimus went on with some amusement, "In addition, you would find that task nearly impossible using only a picture."

Cade sighed. He appeared relieved. "Well, you're right about that," he said softly. "I – after working on you, I would never be able to take one of you apart just to see how you tick, no matter how curious I am. It would be like dissecting a corpse. Worse." He shuddered. "I was ashamed to be human when I found out what they were doing in there." He took a deep, shuddery breath. "The picture isn't – isn't supposed to be a model to build a Transformer, Optimus. It was just a … reminder." Stepping back to the rolling rack, he pushed it aside. The image tacked to the wall was fully exposed to the robot's view.

"I don't even remember who took it, or how they took it," he explained, "but somehow this got emailed to me. It was before you took off. It was the only reminder… the only reminder that wasn't … tainted." He was at a loss for words.

Optimus hunkered down to look at the image more closely. The image was rather large – about half as tall as Cade; what humans would call a poster. He recognized himself after the battle. On closer inspection, he saw Cade in the picture as well. The human stood respectfully off to the side, his arm around Tessa protectively, his gaze focused on Optimus Prime.

"I understand, Cade," Optimus said, rising to his full height. "It was not a model, but a substitute."

Cade looked up at him, saying nothing. How expressive human eyes could be, Optimus noted.

"I guess you could say that," Cade replied at last. He dropped his head, then looked back up at the Prime. "You know, I've never seen anything like you. I'm – I build things. I've built things all my life. Robots, even. Primitive ones, of course. When I learned about Transformers… well, I never thought I would get to see one of you up close. Then when I did…" He exhaled loudly. "It changed me."

Optimus waited. Cade was not done.

"Machines – machines of Earth – they can't think by themselves. They can only do what you tell them to do. But you… no one can think for you. Anyone who tried to give you a command would be an idiot. You – you're alive."

Optimus regarded the human with gentle amusement. "Yes, I am," he said. "Living machines do not exist on your world. I can understand. The first time I encountered an organic being, I was very much at a loss."

"And you – you let me put my hands in you," Cade finished. He didn't realize he was weeping again until he felt the tears drop onto his hands. "I had my hands right next to your heart. I could feel its energy."

Optimus smiled. "I remember."

"I'll never be able to do that again," Cade said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I wouldn't want to. It would mean you were hurt. Hell's bells, Optimus, I didn't even think I'd see you again. This picture – whoever took it, I was so grateful. It was a reminder that what happened to me was real. Even if I never got that close to a Transformer again … I am so lucky that it happened at all."

He stopped.

Optimus tilted his head. "But you have been close to others of my kind. My teammates have visited you."

Cade laughed, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of the white T-shirt he'd worn to bed. "It's not the same," he replied simply.


Author's note: Sorry this ends in an odd place. My writing time has been very limited lately. I will update as soon as I can, hopefully with something a bit more exciting. Thanks for reading!