Optimus Prime was the youngest and smallest Prime yet, though he made up for those factors by being the bravest, kindest, and one of the most gentlest of giants that Cybertron had the honor of carrying on its formerly beautiful surface.

And now he was about to prove it to a little femme he didn't know existed until he encountered the remainder of Tailgate's team...

Arcee didn't know how long she had been swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...Tailgate's body beside her was rotting now. It had hung on for so long, but now it stunk, and badly. Sometimes, when Airachnid didn't come to her with the jelly, Arcee would sway a little harder just to touch the puddle of semifresh Energon and quickly lick it off her digits as if she expected Airachnid to burst into the room and blow her legs off.

Her legs. The holes were infected, of course. They smelled bad. Arcee wondered if she would ever walk again. As she swayed and sucked on her digits like a sparkling, she looked up at them and remembered how fast she used to be able to run before.

She had been beautiful, but now she was damaged, and she doubted anyone could possibly love her now. Or would be able to. Vector Prime was probably preparing himself to come take her soul into the Core, yet days passed and still Arcee remained alert and alive.

Tailgate, the little ghost she had created, was becoming hideous and disfigured. Instead of giving her a warm smile, he now grinned at her with ragged denta and wiggle claws at her in a wave while he tore out his innards and ate them. She would find herself hungry for them, and she would become disgusted at Tailgate, demanding to know why he had gone to The Fallen's side...

But Tailgate wouldn't answer her. He had become like Airachnid, cold and uncaring, even the one in her imagination that taunted her with food while his actual body hung abandoned.

Airachnid, for some reason, had vanished, but Arcee knew better than to hope she had died. Airachnid had bailed on the prison and had left. Decepticons didn't care for their own, and they definitely did not take care of their prisoners.

Arcee was left, abandoned and seemingly forgotten. That was what she thought before the prison blew up.

Smoke was filling the room and Arcee thought she saw movement. Tailgate continued to eat his innards, not caring.

She gagged, which summoned a trio of mechs to investigate.

One was a little scout, black and yellow. He whistled softly, telling her that she would be okay. She didn't think he saw her legs, but the scout was ignoring them on purpose to keep her from squirming around while his companions cut her down.

The oldest was a white, red, and green mech with scars on his mouth and a holder for a grenade on his hip that was empty. He didn't say a thing to her or his companions until the last one dropped down in front of her face.

She would have screamed if her vocodor worked properly. He looked exactly like Tailgate, if Tailgate had horns sprouting from either side of his helm, but unlike Tailgate, his smile was warm and he was gentle as he helped her down. They didn't want to remove the pole without a medic. It was then that Arcee realized it was a search-and-rescue.

They had been searching for her and now they had rescued her. Mission accomplished, they said as they laid her down on a berth on one of the starships that hummed just above the destroyed prison.

Wheeljack, captain of the JackHammer, greeted her with her name and a small nod. Arcee tried to speak, but the red mech, the same brilliant red as Tailgate, soothed her and touched a digit to her lips to silence her. Arcee wanted to rip it off her lips, but she was weak. Too weak to even raise her helm and peek around at the starship.

The scout was talking to someone he referred to, through beeps and clicks common in Cybertronian young, as sir.

That was when Arcee passed out due to the pain and the excitement her body just couldn't handle.

ooo

Someone was washing her. She woke up to hushed tones and the gentle rasp of a rag over wounded metal. She opened her optics.

"She's waking up," someone said.

"Let her sit up," someone else replied.

She was sat up and she saw her legs.

"We had to remove some of the infected areas, and when you grow stronger, you will rise on your pedes and walk again, even run. You will find you are faster."

She touched her right thigh, the puffiest one. The infected area had been removed alright. There was now an isosceles triangle shape through her thighs. She put her servo through it, felt around, then pulled her servo back and she hugged herself.

Then the one who had just finished talking, a brilliant red and blue mech, gave her a tiny Energon cube. She accepted it, wishing for more as she swallowed all of it. She gave it back to him, expecting more, but he set it aside and offered an apologetic smile. She glared at him. Couldn't he see she was starving? And yet he refused her Energon!

"I'm...thirsty..."

"I know you are, Arcee, but you cannot handle so much Energon yet. Soon, I promise, you will have more than enough Energon."

Arcee just stared at him with hardened optics, but she saw his point. No point in getting sick after drinking delicious Energon.

The red mech, Cliffjumper, picked her up gently. The other mech, the soft-spoken one, led them to the wash racks. The red mech was dismissed after Arcee was transferred from one set of arms to another. Then she was laid in a tub.

The mech cleaned her. She could barely lift her arms, but he was patient with her and he was gentle with her fragile legs. He made small comments, wiggled his digits in the water a bit like he would to a sparkling, and then he lifted her out and quickly bundled her into a towel before she could even process what had occured.

She wanted to walk, but the mech kept her in his arms as he carried her through the base. He laid her down in his massive berth, tucked her in, and bid her a good night's recharge.

Arcee hadn't known she was tired, but as soon as the mech touched her helm in a fond way, her optics dimmed and then closed. She fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake until evening the next day.

The mech she later learned was the Prime, Optimus Prime, was waiting for her to wake. Then he bathed her again, rebound her wounds, and carried her to the training room where he tested her.

As soon as her pedes touched the ground, her legs crumpled up and she fell. He stood behind her patiently as time after time she crumpled to the floor like a towel. Then she got frustrated. He was too patient, too caring, and too gentle. She forced her legs to straighten out and work the way Primus had intended them to, and for a moment she thought she was upright, but Optimus helped her back up into his arms and he carried her back to his berth where she fell asleep due to exhaustion.

The next day was no different. She received a bath, medical attention, and was tested again with no different results. But Optimus persisted, and continued to persist for weeks before Arcee finally stood on her own.

Now she was to walk as far as she could, but one step was like five thousand. She was weary and weak, and she fell to her knees. Optimus went to help her, but she helped herself up. She was as shaky as a sparkling, but she remained on her pedes this time. She let Optimus lift her up and she gratefully curled up in his berth.

Her ration had increased from one tiny cube three times a day to one half-full cube twice a day, two steps behind everyone else instead of three.

Cliffjumper now helped with her exercises to get her legs back in functioning order, and when he was there, Optimus would support one half and he would support the other, and she would go through the motions of walking five times around the room before Optimus and Cliffjumper let her carry a fraction of her weight for five more laps.

Wheeljack kept her entertained with war stories, and when she asked about his little wing-like structures, he let her touch them. He explained that one of his creators, he didn't know which, had been a Seeker. And since his other creator wasn't a Seeker, the coding for wings was nearly lost, and so he wound up with doorwings that weren't doorwings, and they weren't wings either. They were just structures with no purpose, feeling, or use.

While Arcee heard talk of war still going on, she never saw Optimus leave. Then again, she slept most of the day to get her strength back. Apparently they worked out of sight to keep near-constant tabs on their patient.

Finally, the day came where Optimus and Cliffjumper merely held her servos. Then, they let go, and Arcee slowly went from a walk to a jog to a sprint. She was faster than before, just as Optimus had promised, and her legs were stronger as well. She considered thanking Airachnid the nicest way possible for making her stronger, and that was by killing her, but Optimus didn't allow her into the fighting. He kept her in base, which was normally always empty except for the occasional Decepticon prisoner and the only medic.

The prisoners were treated well. They were not bound up like Arcee had been, and they were fed regularily. They were allowed to walk around in their rooms, but they had their weapons systems disabled. Arcee was not allowed to be around them in case she snapped and attacked them.

Optimus came to her one day, and asked if she would like to permenantly stay with Team Prime.

But she took one look around and shook her helm.

Cliffjumper reminded her too much of Tailgate. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be comfortable around him. She accepted the little gifts Team Prime had to give her: one grenade, several cubes of Energon, a commlink unit, and a hug from each member, including the little scout who was destined to tower over her.

She left them, looked back at Cliffjumper, and reminded herself why she couldn't stay.

Tailgate's ghost padded after her, torturing her not by eating himself, but with memories of him that she could never forget.

Okay, I know I promised this yesterday, but yesterday turned out a different way than what I thought it would. Translation: instead of a quiet night, I went to the mall with a friend and came home around nine at night. I was exhausted, and I wouldn't be able to create a sentence even if I wanted to.

I know it doesn't compare to the fic that inspired it, but I hope it was atleast somewhat entertaining.

Looking forward to new ideas, references to other awesome fics, and such.

-Prime627