1) Well, I am back from vacation, and it was fantastic. I went to carthage, Missouri to see the Precious Moments Chapel. If you don't know what Precious Moments figures are, you won't understand if i try to explain, so just be happy for me. :) Then, i got back and got my braces on, and it's everything y'all promised: didn't hurt too bad going on, but it friggin hurts now. Pretty sure these things are slowly yanking out my teeth. So yeah.

2) Kinda short today, but that's because I've been uber busy. All you praying folk... pray for my grams. They think she's got early onset dementia. This is not a good thing. If this is true, it might be the first time someone close to me has died. I've lost one grandparent, but they lived in Colorado and were visited once every two or three years, so it wasn't the same. this one's a little too close to home.


9. Fortitude

1,773 words


"The Tigers scored a touchdown, and we're feelin' mighty fine, so hike that ball, and mosey down the line!"

Pom-poms swished with cheerleader hips, and girls clad in blue, gold, and white uniforms made of thick polyester went through their sideline chant, high ponytails bouncing as they moved. Pleated skirts hugged hips, and tight shells clung to fit torsos, each threatening to cut of circulation. Light Nike shoes completed the ensemble, creating that typical cheerleader appearance. The crowd, ever the football fans, cheered loudly along with the girls. Well, everyone cheered except for one person… Well, one person and a robot.

I sulked from my spot in the stands, pointedly refusing to shout along to my favorite cheer. "Mosey down the line," as we had taken to calling it, had actually been introduced this season by a cheerleader from a rival school. It was the only cheer we had that had actual movement in it other than high-V's, step-claps, and the like. Hence why it was my favorite. Optimus stood on my lap, leaning back against me as he watched the game, sharp optics following every movement.

It wasn't fair that I was stuck here just because of my black eye and concussion. It hadn't been severe – my concussion, that is – but it hadn't been minor, either. I had some problems with balance, it took me a few moments to process words, and I had a headache that had faded over the last two days. Those were the only signs of concussion I had shown really, aside from the nausea and the huge knot on my head, of course. The nausea had been gone by the time I visited the doctor, but that hardly mattered. She gave me the basic neurological tests, cognitive tests, and an MRI. It was incredibly boring, especially since Optimus had to stay outside with mom because he was made of metal. Apparently, the signals in his body could disrupt the machines in my room. Optimus protested very firmly; after all, every time I left his sight, I apparently got injured. His protests were in vain, as mother lifted him into her arms and kept him nestled firmly in her lap for the duration of my doctor visit.

Mom was called back to the room once everything was said and done and I was dressed again. Optimus immediately jumped from her arms, landing gracefully on the paper-covered bed I was seated on. He strode to my side and looked me over, ensuring the "unknown medic" hadn't injured me further. When he was convinced I was not about to pass out, he climbed into my lap and sat down, locking his hands in my "Every Girl Needs a Ninja Turtle" t-shirt as he sent a discreet glare in my mother's direction, much to my surprise. Well, it appeared my mom's distaste for Optimus was now mutual. Now that was something I wasn't expecting.

To make a long story short, Dr. Otega informed me rather bluntly that I was not to step foot on our gym floor or even think about doing a cheer routine for at least two weeks. I was not allowed to take any tests until next Wednesday because of my delayed responses. If the symptoms – my headaches, the dizziness, and slowed thinking – persisted, I was to come back today, on Friday. Luckily, the rest of those symptoms had ceased yesterday, giving me the ability to go to school today.

Which means I get to sit through this football game and watch my team lose.

It was rather pitiful to watch, to be honest. Our team would intercept a pass, then get tackled. The next play, the ball would be fumbled by the other team, and the opponents would score a touchdown. Our first touchdown had been about fifteen seconds ago, and the team was preparing to kick a field goal. I doubted they'd make it.

"I had assumed with all the pride your school put into your football team that this game would go far different," Optimus commented dryly from where he stood on my lap. I snorted in amusement, ignoring the dark look a nearby football mom sent us.

"We're a school known mostly for academics. Our debate team is legendary," I informed him. Optimus glanced up at me with an intrigued expression.

"I suppose this is not something that interests you?" he guessed. I laughed out loud at that. I was a terrible speaker. Seriously. Speech was one of the many classes I was currently BS'ing my way through, stuttering pathetically as I stared down at my outline in hopes that the words would magically appear in my head. They never did. Of course, my speech inabilities never kept Miss Smallwood, the debate director, from asking me to join. After all, Billy was elected to the EGP chair in the state debate competition. I had no idea what an EGP chair was or what they did, but it sounded official.

"Let's just say my brother already has a handle on that department," I said lightly. Optimus gave me a strange look.

"You are jealous of him," he breathed, his voice low enough that I had to strain to hear him. At that moment, the team scored the field goal, and the crowd surged to their feet with a loud cheer. My attention stayed locked on Optimus, though. He was staring at me with that weird look in his optics, and I wondered if he was comparing me to his brother in his mind. I, myself, often did the same thing. I had a similar temper as Megatron, and I also showed the same amount of patience as he did. Optimus was probably connecting my revenge on Megan with some sort of retaliation of Megatron's. He was probably noticing how I was just as manipulative as the silver warlord, capable of making others think what I wanted them to think, a perfect example being my manipulation of Megan's friends to make them shy away from her.

I must admit that in those brief moments, as the joyful people around me cheered in complete juxtaposition to my blank silence, I was afraid. Thoughtful silences from Optimus, I was slowly discovering, were a bad thing. I knew he had imprinted on me, and it was now impossible for him to leave my side, but still. Nothing kept him from hating me. Nothing kept him from deciding that I was not worth his time and emotion. He could very easily start acting more robotic, start behaving as if he didn't care. Would he do that to me? Could I stand him doing that to me?

"You need not be," Optimus finally noted lowly, so lowly that I almost couldn't hear him. "You two are equal in intelligence and talent; he simply shows his talent in different ways than you do." The Personal placed his hands on either side of my face, cupping my cheeks as he gazed into my eyes. The people around us seemed to disappear, despite their calls and shouts, and my sole focus was Optimus. "If anything, you are stronger than your brother. You feel so alone, like the world is against you, yet you press on. If anything, it is that that makes you better; your fortitude makes you stronger."

Even as he said these words, I was uncertain if they were meant for me or for the brother that he wished he had spoken to a "millennia" ago. Yet another wrong that Optimus felt he would never be able to right. No matter, his words made it to my heart.

"Billy can survive a struggle," I pointed out. "I have yet to see him give up on those he holds dear." Optimus smiled gently at me, understanding my statement for what it was, and I secretly felt grateful that he had discovered how to retract his facemask.

"Nevertheless, he has not had to for quite a while, and how is he to know if those traits have outstood the test of time? How is he to know if he could possibly protect those most important to him now?"

"That's the question, isn't it? I believe fortitude is not my strength alone. I believe it is a strength that everyone has, even people who haven't felt the need for it for a while. That is because one doesn't realize they have such a strength until they are forced to show it."

Optimus' optics brightened into a smile, one that matched the smile on his faceplates. I smiled back at him, feeling accomplished that I had brought such an expression forward.

"I was lucky to be bought by you," Optimus stated sincerely, and I felt my cheeks go red.

'I believe the feeling is mutual," I responded lightly. The Personal patted my cheeks before turning his attention back to the field. Just like that, all the noise penetrated my ears, and I grinned as I watched Dylan sprint down the field with the ball tucked into the crook of his arm. He spun away from one guy and leapt over another before dancing into the end zone. The crowd rose to their feet again, and I rose with them this time, Optimus hugged in my arms as I screamed Dylan's name with a fervor that any best friend would have. Once he was finished with his obnoxious dance, he looked at the crowd and gave a thumbs-up. I knew he probably couldn't see me, but I responded with a thumbs-up of my own before I sat back down and joined in the cheer of "Touch-down, Ti-gers, touch-down!"

Though I didn't see it, Optimus smiled up at me, his spark a little lighter at my words. I would never know what my reassurances meant to him, a mech who felt worthless to an army that would survive without him. Megatron had always been jealous of him. In his optcs, Optimus had everything: intelligence, a mate, an army that was loyal without a constant threat of death, and the loyalty and favor of the people around him, even though Megatron was technically the one truly fighting for the rights of the lower caste. Despite this, Optimus had always felt that Megatron was better than him. That was a secret he kept close. He would always love his brother, no matter how often he betrayed him, because that was what brothers did: loved each other no matter how grievous the injury. Megatron would see sense eventually.

Until then, Optimus had his human, and he would make sure she never felt the envy – the pain and loneliness – that Megatron felt. Of that he could be certain.


JackFroyo: Thank you! I was actually debating doing a Jazz origin story that worked kinda like that. The guy is such a people person, overly cheerful and such, and everyone I know who's like that is hiding something darker beneath the surface. I just don't know if I'll have the time to write it.

Bliss123: Thank you very much! You make me blush!

Sora Matasuki: I know, right?! There is something about a small Optimus that makes you wanna cuddle him, period, isn't there? And yeah… Concussions suck. I mean, it rocks because you can't take tests or do any "serious thinking" for a while, but it sucks because it hurts and you're benched until the doc lets you free -_-

PandaGirlPlaysTheTuba: I've always wanted to play an instrument, the violin or fiddle to be specific, but I never had time. And another curiosity… I suppose you read mostly fics that have been completed or abandoned? I know my generation of writers is slowly fading away (having babies, getting careers, and college and such.), and there's a lot of copycat writers nowadays. So, any particular reason why you haven't followed many current fics? Lol, I can't wait to wear heels to my wedding so that I can take the off at the reception.

Crescentrax: XD I'm glad you liked it. I'm beginning to really have fun with Optimus and his thoughts and relationship with Tex. As the story continues, you should have more fluffy moments like that. I am, after, a fluff writer. Mostly.

JustaSchmuck: I knew I had missed my calling as a foreteller. Shoot. Love your username, buy the way. XD

I Am The Silver Lining: That bugged me in the movie. I mean, he's been leader since the very beginning of the war, but after he dies (after EVERY commanding officer dies), everyone's like, "Well, Ultra Magnus is fantastic. Bury Optimus, and let's move on with life." I mean, seriously? When JFK was killed, the whole nation mourned, and while Optimus is not real, I think he's the Transformers version of JFK (or any other amazing president we've had). I read that people walked out of the theater when Prime died in a '84 movie. I don't think Tex will let him watch the G1 movie, though, because it'll just confirm all his insecurities.

Nikikt: Oh, you make me blush! X3 I'm just like y'all, just with a bit more practice and an annoying Megatron muse on my shoulder. I am very glad to keep you entertained, though. It's what I do. n.n

Miko873: Thank you! Glad you liked it. :)

Esperanza Hyde the Vamp Queen: It's what makes mini-Optimus so desirable. The mech's a best friend, a mentor, a father, and that intelligent voice in the back of your mind rolled into one.

Lydia the tygeropean: My cousins homeschooled and were always singing its praises. Personally, I was happy with my private school. It was a lot of work, and some of the people there were glitches, but overall, I liked the experience. The drama prepared me for work, that's for sure.

Leonixon: Want me to threaten your heartstrings even more? I need practice writing angst and depressing stuff… And no. Optimus isn't the real prime, remember? No reason for scientists to take him, and stealing him is pointless as he would just leave to find his owner once the thieves turned their heads. Prime is safe for the moment. There will be moments, though…

SunnySides: Sounds like a dream. I don't think I'd be motivated enough for homeschooling, though. And not exactly. He knows that he as created in North Carolina in a factory. He knows that Cybertron is not real and has never been real. However, because of how vivid they programmed his memories to be, he has trouble not crossing them into reality. SO he knows his memories are fake, but if you discovered your whole past was nothing but a dream, would you not find it difficult to separate the new reality where none of your past exists and the old past that you already experienced?

And I would believe that if he didn't screw up movies in the past. Different screenwriters and producers, yet the movies still sucked. The only common factor is Bay, and even if the screenwriters wrote the movie, Bay is still in charge. He's the one who said how he wanted the movie to go. He's the one that decided to throw in the crude humor and ridiculous plotlines. Yes, the writers write the script, but Bay decides what's in that script. Catch my drift? :\

A Wiccan: I think a lot of people are. Weakness is frowned upon, despite how much we say that we need to defend those weaker than use. Kinda pathetic how cruel people are nowadays. Meh. I'm an old soul.

WeLonelyOldSouls: No, no, it makes sense. I totally agree. In cheer, I hated being captain for quite a while because I felt that everyone only wanted me for my strength and loud voice. It wasn't until last year when I went to a football game and realized that the team didn't have many new cheers and completely lacked discipline, which I had somehow ended up being in charge of. I understand. :)

Honestly? Practice. I've been writing since I was very little. When I was five, I wrote my first series of books. Given, it was a children's book series called "Baby Bunny," and it read like this: "It was Christmas. Baby Bunny was not ready. She had no gifts for mommy Bunny or daddy Bunny." But still. Since then, my favorite class was English/Lit, and my favorite assignment was the yearly research report. I kept close relationships with my teachers and researched online any grammar questions I had. In early 2010, when I was sixteen, I started publishing some pokemon fanfics on Quizilla, hoping for feedback. When I received none, I started looking for new sites and stumbled on this one. I joined in September 2010 and uploaded as Transformers/Winx crossover that I ultimately deleted. I wrote. People gave me feedback. I reread what I wrote and picked out the different writing styles I found in my writing and expounded on them, adding different styles that I liked to form my own diction, or my own style of writing. Now, I'm twenty, and I can say that I have fifteen years of experience behind me. Practice and the insight of others, mainly reviewers on this site, have gotten me to where I am. Shrug. Story of my life, I guess.

Guest: I'm glad! Means I'm doing my job. n.n

Violet-bo: Thank you very much! And to answer your question, no, he can't transform. While Persobots Inc. is looking into the technology that would allow such a transformation, they currently don't know how to transform a bipedal robot into a car without disconnecting important wiring and cables. So not yet. Maybe in a few more years when they come out with Personal: Transformers – Bumblebee.


I keep typing Optimus' name as Optimisu, and he sounds like a Japanese gourmet dish! D: Anywho, anybody else been that other sibling, the one that is envied by the other sibling because they seem to do everything right? I remember there being a time when Ben, my brother, hated me because I was the perfect child, when in reality, I just watched what he did and made sure not to repeat anything that got him in trouble.