Sorry it took so long. My muse wasn't sure what to do with this chapter because I didn't know how to make it work. I tried to make it interesting as best as I could, but drama isn't exactly my kind of thing. Yeesh... I tried to flex out Hot Rod's character a bit more, but it was extremely difficult. Anyway, hope you like it.


Day 1

Hot Rod stirred as he finally came out of his unconsciousness. He felt dizzy and very groggy, having never been tackled by a gigantic force like that before. Normally he was always careful when he was driving through a city, but after that experience with the red and blue flamed mech, he guessed he was going to experience something even worse in the future. He had never felt so sore in his entire life.

He sat up slowly, blinking his bright blue eyes as he glanced at his surroundings. So far, there appeared to be three walls, a floor, and ceiling. In front of him there looked like there was nothing. He looked down at the hard bed that was beneath him. He'd never slept on a bed before, but Tracy had explained to him what they were for: sleeping in. But he had never slept in bed before, and that made things even more confusing for him.

Carefully, he swung his legs over the bed, placing his feet on the steel coated floor and stood up to his full height. He furrowed his brow as his legs wobbled from the sudden weight he applied to his unsteady feet, almost collapsing. Using the wall as a form of support, he walked towards the opening, but was shocked by a sudden electric force that stopped him dead in his tracks.

It wasn't the electricity that shocked him, but it was the familiar silver robot that was standing on his right outside the unusual place.

"Hey," Hot Rod growled when he finally recognised him. "I remember you. You're that guy who trapped me between that roadwork and freedom."

The robot turned to look at him, but didn't respond to his words. Instead, he refocused his attention straight ahead.

"Oi," Hot Rod hissed. "I'm talking to you. Let me out!"

Still no response.

When he realised that he wasn't going to get answers from him, Hot Rod snorted in disgust and glanced towards his left. He was surprised to see the same yellow robot that had been present during his scuffle with Barricade. He tried to say something, but he got no response from either of them. Frustrated that he wasn't going to get anywhere at this rate, Hot Rod twitched his doorwings and stomped back over to his bed and set himself down.

He vented a sigh as he recalled more of the teachings of Tracy. He remembered that police often put people in jail for doing something wrong. But this wasn't the police, and he guessed that these robots were exactly like him. And if they transformed like he did, then he couldn't be alone anymore. Even after his encounter with Barricade and Onslaught, he wasn't sure who to trust. Tracy had even told him that trust was difficult to bring up. He hadn't trusted anyone since she had died from her sickness, and being alone been the best option.

He then heard a pair of footsteps approaching from down the hallway. He looked up from his thoughts and noticed that the footsteps sounded quiet, despite the heavy sound that followed the unusual gait.

"Sideswipe, Bumblebee," said a deep baritone voice, "how are they doing?"

"Barricade hasn't woken up since we brought him here," explained the silver robot.

"The mech behind us, however," said the yellow robot, "is online now. He's a bit loud though."

There was no response from the first robot, and Hot Rod couldn't see him. He guessed that, whoever he was, he was well respected by the other robots. He did his best to look around the corner, but all he could see was nothing but a large two-toed foot. He heard the voice's owner chuckle in his deep baritone.

Hot Rod frowned. Was he laughing at him?

"Thank you, you two," the mystery robot said. "Could you give us some privacy so that I may speak with him alone?"

"Yes, Sir," the silver robot replied and he skated away with the yellow one following close behind.

Once they were gone, the mystery robot finally appeared around the corner, and Hot Rod instantly recognised him as the blue and red flamed robot who had tackled him so roughly that he had been knocked into unconsciousness. He stared at him, his eyes flaring furiously. He could not forgive him for that rough treatment he had received from him. He stood up and felt his doorwings rise high with fury.

The robot was bigger than he originally thought up close. His legs were longer than his body, and red flames coated his arms, chest, and legs. His eyes were the same colour of blue as his own, but it was the facial features of the robot that made Hot Rod second guess his judge of character. The robot's face held a small smile that made Hot Rod feel less hostile inside, but he was determined to keep a straight face to show that he was not going to back down so easily.

"I suppose you are wondering why you are in here, youngling," said the large robot.

"Let me out and I'll show you 'youngling'," Hot Rod growled.

The robot laughed, "Your spirit is admiring. I apologise if I offended you." He stopped laughing and frowned a little at Hot Rod. "What is your designation?"

"Why should I tell you?" Hot Rod asked, looking away from the robot. "You're the one who put me in this cell. So why don't you save yourself the effort and tell me your name instead."

"Very well," said the robot. "My name is Optimus Prime. I am the leader of the Autobots, the ones who put you in the brig. We protect the innocent and uphold the belief of ensuring that no one's freedom is threatened by the Decepticons, our enemies. They were the ones who were chasing you. Barricade and Onslaught are part of them, but it is Megatron who leads them."

Hot Rod's gaze returned to the robot who introduced himself as Optimus Prime, his frown lessening. "What are you?" he asked. "I've never seen guys like you before. You're obviously not from around here."

"No, we are not," Optimus replied. "We came from a planet called Cybertron that is very far away from Earth, many light-years away in fact. We call ourselves Cybertronians."

"So you're aliens?" Hot Rod asked.

"If you insist on calling us that," said Optimus, "then yes we are. However, it seems that you are not familiar with your own kind. My guess is that you have been raised by a human. Am I right?"

Hot Rod gritted his dental plates and attempted to pull out his cannons, but nothing happened.

He gasped when he realised this, and he stared hard at Optimus. "What have you done with my weapons?" he demanded.

"Ratchet," said Optimus, "our medical officer, has taken your weapon systems offline. He feared that you would hurt yourself and those around you. It is just a safety precaution."

Hot Rod stomped up to the force field that was keeping him separated from Optimus. Once he was inches away from the field, he stared icily at the Autobot commander for several seconds. He didn't realise that he was shorter than Optimus by several feet. He just barely reached his chest. Optimus stared back, but none of them said anything to break the tension. Finally, Hot Rod broke the silence, but his anger was there in his tone.

"You're lucky that they are offline," he growled. "Then I wouldn't hesitate to shoot this force field. I would rather die than be in someone's hands."

Optimus looked a little saddened by this. "Death," he said sombrely. "How many more lives must die in order to satisfy the Decepticons need for conquest?" He shook his head, dismissing his question. "Can you tell me why Barricade and Onslaught were after you?"

"I don't know," Hot Rod huffed. "All they said was that a spy had been watching me the whole time, and that their leader wanted me dead for some reason."

"It would seem that they want you for some purpose that we don't know," Optimus said.

"That's what I just told you," Hot Rod replied coldly.

"Very well."

Hot Rod was puzzled. He frowned a little, but he said nothing else. As he continued to stare at Optimus, he felt his insides shift about uncomfortably. There was something about this Cybertronian that made him uneasy. He wasn't exactly frightened of him, but it was the way how he spoke that set him into a burning ball of confusion. Was there something that he wasn't telling him or did he know more about him than he knew himself?

"Would you tell me how you came to be?" Optimus asked.

Hot Rod felt his doorwings rise again, but not out of spite.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "All I know is that I woke up in darkness, but I could hear the sounds of a fight going on. Something big knocked me off my wheels for a moment, and the next thing I know, I was running away blindly. I ran into..."

He stopped suddenly, sadness gripping his inner chamber.

Optimus seemed to wait patiently, but Hot Rod said no more.

When the dreadful silence went between them, Hot Rod turned and walked back to his bed. He didn't want to look Optimus in the eye anymore. His whole body trembled as he felt trickles of liquid pouring down his cheeks. He recalled Tracy doing this once, and he had innocently asked what it was. She had called it crying, and it mainly happened when someone was hurt, sad, stressed, or sometimes happy. He hadn't been sure of being capable of crying himself, but it was the first time he was doing it right now.

And during his emotional moment, he thought he heard Optimus take a step back from his cell. He quickly wiped the beads of liquid away from his eyes, and turned to look back at him. Out of human habit, he chewed his bottom lip to hold back his sorrow. Tracy had told him once that there was no time for tears and that it only showed you were weak. His whimpering ceased as he stood up straight and stared Optimus in the eye.

"If you do not wish to talk anymore, then I won't force you," said Optimus. He placed a hand upon his antenna and spoke in a language Hot Rod didn't understand. It sounded electronic and far too quickly for his ears to understand. If he really was like these Cybertronians, then it was possible he could speak the same language as them. He just had to learn how to do it first. But that would mean he would have to stay here when they let him out, and he couldn't afford to stay with them.

He had given up searching for his own kind a long time ago.

When Optimus was done speaking, he seemed to resort back to English. "I'm sending Jolt down here with a cube of energon for you. You will need it to regain some of your strength. From what Ratchet told me after scanning you, you haven't had a decent consume in two weeks. Would you mind telling me what you have had in order to remain online?"

"Fuel would be your typical answer," snorted Hot Rod.

"And it did not upset your systems?"

Hot Rod just shook his head.

Optimus looked a little thoughtful and opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and said nothing else. Hot Rod was positive he was going to ask another question about what he had been up to since he had come online, but he was surprised when Optimus turned and called the two Cybertronians back in.

"What did you learn, Sir?" the yellow one asked, whom Hot Rod believed was called Bumblebee.

"As much as I could, Bumblebee," Optimus said. "We will leave it for now. It would seem that he is not willing to trust us because of what I believe is his upbringing. Whoever brought him up thought it would obviously be necessary for his survival. Until we've decided what to do with him, he is to remain in the brig."

"What about Barricade?" the third one asked, whom Hot Rod thought was called Sideswipe.

"Like this youngling, he too will remain in the brig. We cannot let him out until we believe we can trust him enough to not reveal the location of our base."

"Which I highly doubt," said Sideswipe, and Hot Rod heard a blade unsheathe.

"It would seem so," agreed Optimus, and he glanced over at Hot Rod for a moment, and Hot Rod shrunk back a little. "Despite this youngling not bearing the Autobot or Decepticon symbol, he may yet still provide a threat to our survival." He blinked and vented a sigh. "Give us four more days until we decide his fate."

"So either way," Hot Rod frowned, "I'm screwed."

"Normally humans would put you in jail for life if you committed a crime that is a threat to their nation," replied Optimus. "But since you are not a human and are in our custody, we have rules that determine how we punish someone. However, you have done nothing wrong. That is proof enough for me to say you are not with the Decepticons and are innocent."

"You still have to decide what to do with me," Hot Rod said.

"Yes, we do," Optimus nodded. "Even though I believe you are innocent, I still must talk with my officers on whether or not you are welcome to stay with us."

"Even if you say that I can stay, what if I don't want to help you fight your enemies? I'm not a fighter."

"Then you will be free to do as you wish in our base, live a life, be treated fairly. But will not be permitted to leave because we Autobots must protect the civilians. But if you choose not to stay, then you may go. But the Decepticons will be more than willing to hunt you down and attempt to try and take you out again. However, I recommend that you stay here and learn the basics of fighting in order to protect yourself from our enemies."

Hot Rod looked away, trying to decide what his answer would be.

"You don't have to decide anything now," Optimus said kindly. "You have six days to think it over while we decide on whether or not you can stay."

"Fine," Hot Rod grunted, folding his arms across his chest.

Optimus just nodded at him and then at Bumblebee and Sideswipe. The two Cybertronians then took their positions on either side of Hot Rod's cell before Optimus turned and walked away. But it several seconds later after he had left that a bright blue mech with grappling claws that buzzed with electricity for hands came into Hot Rod's view. Hot Rod assumed this was the one called Jolt that Optimus sent down with this cube of energon he spoke of.

The force field went down as Hot Rod was ordered to back off from it. Jolt walked inside and frowned when he looked Hot Rod all over. Hot Rod frowned back, determined to say something witty that would knock him off his feet, but he held his tongue and set himself down on his bed.

Jolt handed him the cube and Hot Rod took a whiff of it with his olfactory sensors, but he then remembered that his sensors were offline and he mentally slapped himself for forgetting.

"Don't worry, it's not poisoned or anything," Jolt said when he saw Hot Rod's hesitation. "Drink it. It will make you feel better."

Hot Rod sighed as he complied. He placed the cube to his lips and took a sip. He was a little shocked at the taste. It tasted a little similar to that of the fuel he had consumed in the past, but the taste had a few differences to it.

"It's got a few chemicals in it that will help you gain some of your strength back," Jolt explained. "Not your typical human chemicals you've heard of." He winked an eye. "It's specially brewed by Wheeljack. Engineers are amazing when it comes to making different types to satisfy your glossa."

"Glossa?" Hot Rod asked.

"Your tongue," Jolt replied. "You've obviously been raised by a human if you know so little of our terms."

Hot Rod said nothing to confirm this, but he quickly finished the cube and handed it back to Jolt. Jolt took it back and placed a clawed hand on Hot Rod's shoulder. Hot Rod was a little hesitant with the way it sparkled, but he said nothing. "If you're still feeling a little de-energized, don't hesitate to let Bumblebee know and he'll call me to brew you up some more. When you're feeling a little stronger, you can go for the stronger types."

"Thanks... I guess."

"Any time," Jolt laughed as he removed his clawed hand and left, but not before he put the force field back up.

Hot Rod sighed and resumed his thinking, glad that he was alone with his thoughts once again. He knew that he may be waiting for nearly a whole week for Optimus to get back to him, but he also knew that he was going to have to make a decision on whether or not he chose to fight against the Decepticons. After all, Barricade had said to him that Megatron wanted him dead or alive for some reason. If Optimus said he could stay, he would have to decide what life he must live, either a civilian life or an Autobot life. Whichever he chose, it was going to be life or death.

Like how he saw Tracy do it, he folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling as he lay down. It was going to be a long wait.

Day 2

Tap, tap.

Hot Rod opened a sleepy eye, not realising that he must've fallen asleep during his thinking. He checked the time on his HUD and was surprised that it had been nearly 48 hours since he had been caught and placed in his cell by the Autobots. He sat up and rubbed his eyes to clear some of the exhaustion away.

Tap, tap.

He blinked and turned his head to see someone was standing outside his cell, looking at him with bright blue eyes. The being was a lot smaller than him, probably even smaller than Sideswipe. Hot Rod stood up and quietly walked up to the force field, curious to learn more about this being. As he approached, the being seemed to shrink back a little, but its eyes never seemed to leave him. He got down on one knee until he was levelled with it. He was extremely surprised to see that it was a smaller version of a Cybertronian. It was gray with hardly any armour coating its entire body.

"Hello," Hot Rod greeted the Cybertronian.

The Cybertronian scooted backwards, ducking behind Sideswipe's leg. The silver mech glanced down at the little one, and then back at Hot Rod before he said something to it in the same language that Hot Rod didn't understand. The little one beeped something back to Sideswipe, Bumblebee laughed as Sideswipe gently picked it up and walked out of Hot Rod's line of sight.

"What was that?" Hot Rod asked Bumblebee.

"That was a sparkling," Bumblebee replied. "His name is Tailgate. He's a very curious little one."

"I didn't know you guys can have children," Hot Rod frowned.

"A Transformer can only have a sparkling through a sacred commitment called bonding. It's what humans would call marriage. Only for us, bonding is much deeper emotionally, physically, and spiritually. There is almost a telepathic link between a bonded pair. A femme's spark is synchronised with a mech's during bonding. This enables us to produce sparklings, what humans call babies. Even the younglings of a bonded pair are part of the telepathic link."

"Can a femme bond with another mech if her husband is lost to her?"

"No. Bonding is permanent. Once a pair is bonded, it's for life."

Hot Rod frowned. "You mentioned about a spark. What's that?"

"A spark," explained Bumblebee, "is like a bolt of lightning that doesn't fade and is able to sustain its own energy, even its own rhythm. The spark, created by the joining of a mech and femme, must mature within the femme's womb until it can be moved into its body. The spark, once inserted, gives the body life. Of whom we are, our physical attributes, our personalities, all of it is within one spark. In a sense, it is like a human heart."

Hot Rod glanced down at his chest, thinking. He knew he wasn't born through a bonded pair, but if he was, he would've known who his parents were. But since he wasn't, he could only guess one thing, but he had to be sure before he could confirm it. He glanced up and looked at Bumblebee, his eyes twinkling with nervousness.

"What is this Allspark?" he asked.

"The Allspark was a massive cube of raw power. It created Cybertron, and populated the planet with us. However, because Megatron wanted it for power, Optimus jettisoned it into space to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. The cube crash-landed here on Earth, but Megatron followed it here. We Autobots went on a desperate search to find it when our planet started dying from our many millennia war."

He sighed.

"Through an imprint on a human's glasses, we managed to find and retrieve the cube. But the war forced Optimus to make a decision: sacrifice himself to destroy the Allspark. That never came to pass though. A human by the name of Samuel James Witwicky shoved the cube into Megatron's chest, killing him and saving us all."

Hot Rod frowned. "When did this... happen?" he asked.

"The year 2007," Bumblebee replied.

"That was the year my spark came online!" exclaimed Hot Rod as he jumped back, shocked. "I must've been born through the Allspark!"

Bumblebee blinked his optics in surprise as Hot Rod cried out. Hot Rod wondered if he may have said something too soon, but it had to be true. There was no other way he could've come online without being sparked through a mother and father. He had to have come from the Allspark! He just had to!

"Bumblebee, what's going on?" Sideswipe's voice called as he skated back into the brig. "You shouldn't be striking up a conversation with him. You know that Prime forbid us to do so. We were ordered to guard him and Barricade, not talk and get to know him."

"I apologise, Sideswipe," Bumblebee said, bowing his head. "But it just seems like we may have learned how he came to be in the first place."

"Where?" Sideswipe asked.

"From the Allspark back in 2007," Bumblebee answered. "Sam must've accidentally zapped a vehicle when he had been carrying the Allspark and brought to life this mech." He nodded towards Hot Rod. "It makes perfect sense actually, because it would explain how we didn't detect his energy signature up until now and why he appears to be much older than his physical age."

"This we should tell Optimus about this?" Sideswipe asked.

Bumblebee looked at Hot Rod, but Hot Rod just shrugged his shoulders. He then nodded at Sideswipe. "It would be best that we tell him as soon as possible, but we cannot leave our station yet."

"Tell him through the com-link," Sideswipe snorted. "You should know that already."

Bumblebee laughed. "You're right. Sorry, my bad."

Hot Rod sighed as he set himself on his bed, placing his chin on his fist as he stared at nothing but thin air. He was feeling a little tired after his conversation with Bumblebee. There was something about him that made him feel sad on the inside. When he had mentioned about Sam Witwicky, Bumblebee looked dreadfully hurt. As if even the name of the human tore up his spark and made him want to breakdown and cry, just like how the mention of Tracy Bloomwood tore Hot Rod up on the inside.

He felt his doorwings tremble a little at the thought of his dying human in his hands as she slipped away. Recalling the event pained Hot Rod, and he quickly pushed the thought aside, burying it deep into the back of his mind so that he didn't have to think about it again.

"Are you alright, kid?" Sideswipe asked.

Hot Rod glanced up and saw both Sideswipe and Bumblebee looking at him with concern.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Bumblebee frowned, as if he didn't believe him. But he said nothing and returned to his post. Hot Rod could hear him speaking in that electronic language again, and he grew even more curious. He wanted to learn how to speak like that too, but he thought better of it. He still had to decide on whether or not he was going to fight the Decepticons or live a normal life and never find out anything why the Decepticons were after him.

Life just wasn't easy anymore.

Day 3

How long had he been here now? Hot Rod had lost track of time. His sensors and chronometer were still unrepaired and there was nothing he could do. However, from the chatter from Sideswipe and Bumblebee, he had been here for nearly three days now. Three days since his capture, and three days since he had last seen the outside world. It annoyed him that he couldn't see the sun or admire the clouds or even look up at the moon and the stars like he always did whenever there were no humans around.

From the daily chats with Jolt whenever he brought him a cube of energon and the open contact with Bumblebee and the stiff Sideswipe, Hot Rod gathered that his own kind had been here for a very long time. But there was one thing that still bothered him. How long would it be now before he was finally let out? He didn't know, but he was getting tired of sitting on his aft, drinking energon, listening to tales of so called glorious battles and hearing about how a mech named Ironhide got pranked on by several younglings. He had spent nearly several hours chasing them down until he caught them and threatened to fill their afts with plasma.

But for once, Hot Rod was not interested in hearing anything about what had just transpired. He was more interested in getting let out so that he could see for himself how his own kind lived and what their daily lives were like. But, more importantly, his thoughts kept on drifting to what Optimus had requested of him to do. He hadn't seen the Autobot leader since his first day in the cell, but he didn't really care much. All he wanted was to get out before his energy got the best of him.

"Sideswipe, Bumblebee."

Hot Rod's audio receptors pricked at an unfamiliar voice and sat up, turning his head to see a large, black mech standing before Sideswipe and Bumblebee. The black mech glanced at him for a moment, but then shifted his gaze back onto the other two.

"What can we do for you, Ironhide?" Bumblebee asked politely, bowing his head.

"Mirage and I have come to relieve you of your duty for the day," the black mech Bumblebee called Ironhide said, nodding in Hot Rod's direction. "Has he said anything yet?"

Sideswipe looked ready to say something, but Bumblebee quickly beat him to the punch. "Not a lot, sir," he said. "He only asks questions about our kind. It's quite clear that he has been raised by a human and hardly knows much about our culture, language, and just about everything else."

"As expected," said another voice in a thick Italian accent from beside Ironhide. Hot Rod guessed this was Mirage. "Go on, amicos. We'll call you when we think you've had enough time off."

"Thanks, Mirage," Sideswipe said, and then he laughed. "And why do you keep speaking like that? You know what none of us can understand a word you're saying. The kid probably can't understand what you're saying either."

Hot Rod smirked. Yeah right. He had spent a lot of time around Tracy and had learned enough from her on what was being communicated from Mirage. After all, he wouldn't have known what he said if he hadn't met her. He swung his legs over the berth and emitted a chuckle.

"Ciao, Mirage."

Mirage's eyes widened and he shifted his gaze from the others to Hot Rod. The others reaction was of pure surprise as well.

"Ciao, come va?" Mirage asked.

"Better than I feel," Hot Rod groaned, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Though I would be a lot happier if I saw the sky... I really miss it."

Mirage's mouth formed a rare smile, but it was gone before Hot Rod could properly announce it. Sideswipe's and Ironhide's jaws had dropped slightly when Hot Rod spoke in Italian to Mirage, but they quickly closed them when Bumblebee noticed and snickered at their reaction. Ironhide turned and growled at Bumblebee, ordering him to be silent.

"You have your orders, you two," he grumbled. "Go."

"Yes, sir," Sideswipe and Bumblebee said at once, nodding.

Without another word, the two friends then left, leaving Mirage and Ironhide alone with Hot Rod. Once they were gone, the two veterans took their places on either side of the cell. Hot Rod raised an eyebrow at their silence, wishing somehow that he was allowed a bit of free reign to see for himself what the base looked like. He sighed in disappointment and leaned back against the wall, arms folded behind his head to cushion it.

He closed his optics and tuned into some music, listening to it inside his head. It was a trick he had learned on his own whenever he was alone.

But he wasn't alone. He had found his own kind, and he was somehow regretting that dreadful wish of not wanting to be alone. He even regretted making friends out of Tracy. However, it was too late to turn back now. All he had left of his beloved human was her teachings and her wisdom to guide him. It was all that he had to remember her. Even as he listened to the music that quietly blared through his audio receptors, Hot Rod's thoughts continued to drift to other places he would rather not think about.

"Hey, kid," Ironhide's voice called. "You ok?"

Hot Rod shook his head and silenced the music. He turned his gaze from the wall and found himself staring into Ironhide's hardened gaze. He looked away, not really in the mood to discuss such matters. But it was too late to turn back now. He hadn't even realised that he was singing out loud.

"I'm fine," Hot Rod answered a little harshly.

The old mech frowned, not at least a bit phased by the hostility in Hot Rod's tone. Instead, he pushed forward. "You're talking to yourself as you have music going on in that cranium of yours," he said, flexing his fingers slightly. "You mind telling me why you're acting like this?"

"Ironhide, leave the boy alone," Mirage said. "He's obviously not in the mood to discuss anything with us yet. He will come around when he is ready."

Ironhide snorted.

Hot Rod found his eyes wandering to Ironhide's missing hand and some of the small brown patches that covered his armour. He had never seen rust like that before. It was almost as alien as the rust he often saw on abandoned cars and old pipes that had not been checked on in years. He didn't realise he had been staring until Ironhide caught him.

"Interested in my rust are you?" Ironhide chuckled.

Hot Rod blinked and turned away, refusing to answer.

The black mech just laughed again, his deep laughter penetrating Hot Rod's ears. "I can understand your curiosity about where I got them from." He looked down at his missing hand and Hot Rod blinked in confusion. "Rust unlike anything you've ever seen did this to me."

"What kind of rust?" Hot Rod asked.

"The kind that can destroy living metal," Ironhide answered, his old gaze shifting to Hot Rod. "It wasn't a pretty sight. I nearly lost my life because of it. Luckily for me Ratchet was nearby and saved my life just in time before I met my end." He shook his head sadly. "My... processor wasn't at its best when I thought I was dying. I wanted to give up and return to the Allspark where my beloved Chromia was waiting for me. But Ratchet refused to give up on me. He told me that I was still needed and that I was not ready to meet death head on."

"How did you get the rust?" the young mech questioned.

Ironhide's optics furrowed into a frown and his tone turned as hard as stone. "A traitor," he responded.

Hot Rod blinked, but said nothing more. He turned his back on Ironhide and curled up on his berth, no longer in the mood to discuss anything. To prove a point that he wasn't listening, he turned the volume up a little bit and mouthed the lyrics. A part of him wanted nothing more than to see Tracy again, but he was on his own now and he knew that he had to keep on moving for her. If he died, then she would never let him live it down.

With tears prickling at the corner of his optics, he drifted off into recharge again and blocked all sound from reaching him. He didn't even hear Ironhide make a comment about how strange he was and that he had a lot to learn on how to become a proper Transformer.

And then... a decision reached his processor. He knew what he must do.

Day 4

"Oi, kid."

Hot Rod felt his optics switch online when he heard Sideswipe's voice pierce through the darkness. He was surprised to find the silver mech looking at him, Bumblebee with his back to him, and no signs of Mirage or Ironhide. He sat up slowly and shook his head tiredly, trying to clear the exhaustion from his eyes. He hadn't slept well during the night, and he really wasn't in the mood for discussing anything with his two guards.

"What?" he huffed as he stifled a yawn.

"Just letting you know that Optimus is coming down to see you as soon as he is available," Sideswipe replied.

"Why would he do that?"

"I think it may have something to do with the officers reaching a decision," Bumblebee answered.

"I don't understand how it went faster than I originally thought."

"You'd be amazed at how we function," the silver mech replied.

Hot Rod shrugged and looked away once more. He really didn't want to discuss anything, especially with Optimus about what was to become of him. While he was terrified and excited at the same time, he was also nervous. His heart... er... his spark seemed to have doubled its pulse. He shook his head and sat up slightly, too tired and aching in the knees to voice his problems. He just wished his sensors were working so that he can make a proper scan of the outside.

Once, he had tried to hack into the internet to get an update on what was going on, but he got a warning from Ironhide that if he tried again, he would be doing more than just sitting on his aft. Hot Rod hadn't tried hacking into the system again, not willing to test Ironhide's annoyance any further.

Suddenly, Sideswipe and Bumblebee stiffened and stood up straight as tall as they possibly could and Hot Rod guessed what had caused them to act like this. The loud footsteps of the humongous Cybertronian gave everything away. Hot Rod stood up to his full height and approached the force field to get a better look at what was to become of him.

Optimus Prime's gleaming red and blue armoured body seemed to tremble slightly when his eyes lay upon the two guards. He said something in Cybertronian to them and they responded back. Hot Rod guessed that they must be discussing of something very important that should not be heard by his English understanding ears. Sideswipe nodded and then shifted his gaze to Hot Rod, a small smile crossing his mouth, but it was gone before Hot Rod could process it.

Optimus then looked over at Hot Rod and said, "Well, youngling..."

"Hot Rod," Hot Rod responded instantly, interrupting the commander. "My name is Hot Rod."

"Very well, Hot Rod, it would seem that we have reached the end of our discussion about what we are to do with you."

"And what is it that you are going to do with me?" Hot Rod frowned.

"You are to be released," Optimus answered.