Chapter 26
Optimus never understood why he got such a…warm felt welcome when he returned from missions of travels. He only knew that the Twins wouldn't let go of his legs for at least two solar cycles, some of the others would last another solar cycle longer, and Bee would remain an extra three days. Either way, the lot playfully holding onto his legs giggled with each awkward step he took.
If there was ever a time the kids let go early, it was only because Prowl needed him for a specific reason. Luckily, this was one of those lucky times. Prowl came forward, his arm and side still bandaged, with a usual frown upon his face. He spent almost an entire cycle of ranting before everyone by Bee had let go. Bumblebee looked up at Optimus with big blue optics.
"What's going on Prowl?" smiled Bumblebee, looking over at the latter.
"I need some help lifting things in the back," explained Prowl, prying Bee loose.
"What kind of stuff?" asked Optimus, quietly.
"Mostly junk from the old tenants," nodded Prowl, motioning for him to follow.
Prowl wasn't lying about the piles of junk, not that he'd want to anymore. Old parts, fallen walls, replaced ceilings and broken lights scattered the entire back room. Optimus, Prowl, and Bumblebee stood in the doorway, looking over the junk. Bumblebee and Optimus looked over to Prowl, curious.
"Where am I moving this?" questioned Optimus.
"Not really moving, just rearranging," sighed Prowl. "I'm going to get Jazz and Ironhide too. It's easier to get them after you're already here."
Optimus grumbled as Prowl left. Bumblebee tried to help but many of the things were too big for him to lift. Optimus organized simply by tossing what needs to be thrown out into the hall. Soon enough a grumbling Jazz and Ironhide arrived, just as Optimus dropped an old plaque. It hit the ground, revealing a perfectly painted red symbol. Optimus titled his head, intrigued. It was purely red with white boarding the shapes, forming an almost face like portray. Optimus offered a simply nod.
"Hey, Prowl," Optimus called, motioning for the others to come and see.
"Yes?" Prowl hummed, arriving beside Optimus.
"It looks like he's crying!" called Bumblebee, feeling the surface of the plaque.
"It does almost," mumbled Jazz, leaning on Optimus's shoulder.
"What is it?" snapped Ironhide, crossing his arms.
"A logo. Probably for the previous tenants again," shrugged Prowl.
"I like it," sighed Optimus, looking over it completely for the fifth time. "Think Ratchet could…make it smaller?"
"Why?" groaned Prowl, looking up at him.
"Maybe put it on my armor. I just like it," shrugged Optimus, rubbing his shoulder. "I think it's interesting and would be a neat reminder of the past."
"Slag, I supposed that's a good reason," growled Prowl, turning away.
"Can I get it too then!" cheered Bumblebee, pulling of Optimus's arm.
"What? No!" gasped Optimus, looking down.
"Why not?" whimpered Bumblebee, leaning back with Optimus's arm holding him from falling.
"Well…uh…because…" stuttered Optimus, looking back at the crying red symbol.
"I won't go with the shoulder, too out of the way I guess," mumbled Jazz, standing up straight. He titled his head and icon. "Maybe on the chest plate…"
"Yeah, chest plate would work," agreed Ironhide, patting the dust off on his chest.
"Oh please," groaned Prowl, rolling his optics.
"Think Ratchet could remake it for all of us?" smirked Jazz, leaning over to view Prowl.
"He'd probably be upset at the idea but for Optimus…" shrugged Prowl, leaving.
"Then you ask for it first!" ordered Jazz and Ironhide, looking to Optimus who was still struggling with the whining Bumblebee.
Pushing rather forcibly, Jazz and Ironhide got Optimus down to Ratchet's lab. Wheeljack was working in the back and Perceptor was assisting either when called upon, which for Wheeljack was often. The three looked up as the three entered, followed by a still begging Bumblebee. Jazz was still talking about the position of the mark while Ironhide argued to him about stupid places. Optimus finally covered his audio receptors.
"Ratchet, can I talk to you?" he called over the voices.
"Right over here," nodded Ratchet, motioning to the small office in the back.
Closing the door behind them, silence soon fell, with the outside only muffles. Optimus sighed, taking in the moments of peace and quiet he gets so little. Ratchet was still rearranging things, messing with the objects on his desk around. He looked up often, waiting for Optimus's request.
"I found this old symbol in the back room and I want to on my shoulder of something," nodded Optimus.
"What's it look like?" questioned Ratchet, looking up once more.
"Like this," offered Optimus, opening a hologram. The crying red symbol shimmered in the light.
"It'll work. Give me some time to set up though," hummed Ratchet, writing something down in a data pad.
"Jazz and Ironhide might want one as well but more on the chest plate than another," shrugged Optimus, messing with things on the shelf.
"Give me some time then," sighed Ratchet.
"There's one other thing, Ratchet," whispered Optimus, eyeing the ground.
Ratchet looked up from the desk again. Optimus was staring off into his own thoughts a moment, a hand touching the long winding scar across his face. Ratchet stood up straight. Something was wrong, and it was barely easy to tell. Optimus sighed again, looking over to Ratchet, with his hand falling to his side again.
"What is it?" questioned Ratchet.
"How hard would it be for you to put on a faceplate?" Optimus asked quietly.
"A faceplate? Those are…complex. Somewhat easy to put on but to remove is near impossible. Believe me, I've watched Wheeljack try," gasped Ratchet, moving around the desk.
"I'm not going to regret it," nodded Optimus, placing his hand back to the scar. "It'll be a good way to forget this."
"If you say so," whispered Ratchet.
Optimus began to leave. Ratchet couldn't find a sturdy argument to convince Optimus against getting a faceplate. Wheeljack had gotten his several stellar cycles ago and it drove him mad in the first few weeks. He grew used to it after personal modification on the communication fins on the side. Optimus though…wasn't Wheeljack. Optimus stopped before leaving, looking back with his hand on the doorhandle.
"One last thing…" mumbled Optimus. "Should I let Bee get an Autobot mark like the others?"
"The crying symbol?" asked Ratchet.
"It's easier to call it an Autobot mark," shrugged Optimus, "but yeah. Should I let him?"
"Maybe, let him do a responsibility task, to show the other kids. Get all of them doing things around the base too," offered Ratchet.
"What'd the twins do this time?" sighed Optimus.
"They glued my tools to the wall!" howled Ratchet, pointing to his left.
"I'll work on the task thing. I'll give you some time to prep," nodded Optimus, leaving.
Ratchet smiled, messing with the contents of his desk again. feeling something around the back of his knees, he spun around to find the twins previously mentioned painting on his legs. He howled, chasing them off.