I send my humblest apologies to all my readers in regards to the last chapter and leaving you all dangling over the edge. I know I can be cruel when it comes to cliffhangers, but I'm about to show my true colours where I can be EXTREMELY cruel to characters. It will leave you begging for me to not have read it. It will play a VERY important role in regards to Hot Rod's future. In order to find out, please read the chapter. *cackles evilly*

Oh, and a bit of warning to you people: this chapter also has some fluff in it. I bet you didn't see that coming, huh?

No one breathed nor said a word as Ratchet glanced around the room. His optics lay upon Hot Rod for a brief moment before he strode on over to Ironhide, who was waiting with his arms folded across his chest and with a calm stare. Hot Rod was about to ask Ratchet how Optimus was doing when Ratchet walked over to Ironhide and whispered something into his audio receptor. Ironhide tilted his head to one side as he listened to what the lime green mech had to say. When Ratchet pulled away, Ironhide nodded his head briefly and then glanced over at Hot Rod with optics that made the youngling feel nervous.

"Come with us, Rodimus," Ironhide said as he stood beside Hot Rod and gently took his uninjured arm and led him into the private room where Optimus was recovering from his surgery.

As he was led away, he glanced over his shoulder to see his friends looking concerned. He sent them a private com-link to them, letting them know that everything will be alright. They didn't seem convinced, but they nodded that they'll be waiting for him when he came out.

With the door closed behind them and locked, Hot Rod found himself gasping at what he saw. Optimus was lying on a medical berth with a lot of cables and wires attached to every ounce of his body, including his chest, neck, arms, and legs. There was even a machine on the left side of the berth that was beeping steadily, thus reminding Hot Rod of the heart monitors that humans often used to keep a careful eye on human hearts.

"Why did you bring me in here instead of breaking the news to the others?" Hot Rod asked as he turned to the older mechs.

They said nothing in response to his question, thus it made him more worried than he had thought, especially considering how Optimus was beginning to make twitching motions with his digits that made him even more concerned.

Ironhide gently motioned to Hot Rod to sit down on the chair as Ratchet went on over to Optimus' recharging form, he then injected him with some sort of pale blue liquid, making him grow still once more. Ratchet then took a few steps back and he glanced on over at Hot Rod with an expression that made him feel grief for what happened to Optimus.

"Is he going to be alright?" the youngling asked the older mech quietly. "W-will he die?"

"Optimus is going to be fine, Rodimus," Ratchet finally answered, his tone emotionless. "However, I fear that the damage Harbinger had inflicted upon his back is a lot more severe than we thought. There were times when I thought Optimus wasn't going to pull through the surgery and his spark nearly failed twice if it had not been for First Aid's quick hand."

"What do you mean?" Hot Rod asked, frowning. "Are you saying that...?"

"What he's trying to say, youngling," Ironhide insisted, "is that we won't know for certain on the damage until Optimus wakes up from his forced recharge and we get him back on his pedes."

Hot Rod nodded briefly, his optics resting upon Optimus' form. His insides felt twisted and upset, not just because of the damage that Brawn had inflicted upon him, but all due to his growing concerns for Optimus. He hoped with all his spark that Optimus would be able to walk again. He was not only frightened over the fact that Optimus might not be able to walk again, but he may be forced to live a life of internal pain and suffer the consequences all because of his foolishness.

He jumped when he heard Ironhide growl and he whirled towards him in time to feel a slight whack across the back of his cranium. "How many times do I have to tell you, Rodimus?" he huffed. "I keep telling you it isn't your fault that Optimus is like this. If he manages to walk again, then there is nothing to forgive. If he cannot... then we will have to do the invertible and put him out of his suffering."

"Go easy on the youngling, Ironhide," Ratchet sighed as he gently pushed Ironhide backwards away from Hot Rod. "He's been through enough as it is and he still needs to recover from his fight with Harbinger. Considering what has happened, I would say that he just needs to take some time off for a little while."

Hot Rod opened his mouth to say his thanks to Ratchet, but no words came out. He bowed his head and he looked over at Optimus. He stood up on wobbly legs and stood beside the massive Autobot's side. He used his good hand to gently pet Optimus' shoulder, guilt and shame leaking into his processor and he was well aware of Ironhide and Ratchet watching him closely. Whether it was because they were protective of Optimus or due to the instability in his processor, he would never know.

All he knew was that he felt responsible for what had happened to Optimus, and seeing him like this just made him feel worse than he already did. He rested his forehead on Optimus' own and he whispered into his audio receptors, "Father, I am truly sorry for what has happened to you. I pray to Primus with all my spark that you'll be able to get up and walk again without any problems. T-to be perfectly honest, I was actually scared that you would not be able to pull through."

He sighed deeply.

"I know that you're hurting as much as I am about the fight we had between us," he went on. "You obviously knew that your time as Prime was drawing to a close. You desperately needed me to have all the knowledge there is in order to become the Prime I was destined to be. Yet, like the idiot I was, I refused to listen to what you had to tell me. You probably foresaw me leaving and didn't even try to stop me because you knew that I would come back. Was this what was meant to happen to you too? Did you foresee your own lingering doom before even I did?"

He closed his optics and wept pitifully. He was a pathetic mech for having not listened to Optimus in the first place. If only he had let go of his stupid pride and that he stayed when he should have. He could have prevented Optimus from getting injured. He could have stayed instead of running off. But if he had stayed, he would not have mastered his sword's transformation and killed Doubledealer and Harbinger.

He somehow lost track of time and he wondered how long he had been by Optimus' side, weeping like a sparkling, until he had blacked out. He had woken up in the chair beside the berth with a red blanket covering him up in an attempt to keep him warm throughout the night. His gaze rested upon Optimus and he found – much to his dismay – that he hadn't woken up.

Ratchet was adjusting something on the spark monitor and was just returning to his office when he saw that Hot Rod was wide awake. He kneeled beside him and carefully checked his sling to make sure it was properly fitted. When he was done, he nodded with satisfaction and he looked down at Hot Rod worriedly.

"How long was I out?" Hot Rod asked, frowning.

"You recharged through the whole night," Ratchet answered as he looked over at Optimus and then back at Hot Rod. "There's been no change in Optimus since you had passed out... in case you're wondering."

Hot Rod nodded, listening.

"Ironhide and I agreed to leave you where you were," Ratchet went on. "Sideswipe and Bumblebee came to check on you, but I forced them to leave you alone as you were not feeling very well and that you needed your space. Arcee came by two micro-cycles ago and gave you the blanket to keep you warm during the night, since it was pretty cool. She put one on Optimus as well."

Hot Rod looked at Optimus again and he noticed there was a dark blue blanket covering his chassis. He sighed and smiled, mentally thanking Arcee for her kindness. She always seemed to come through when you needed something the most.

"Arcee mentioned to me that you still have a promise to keep," Ratchet chuckled. "Do you mind telling me what promise she was talking about?"

Hot Rod tried to look stoic, but he couldn't help but let a smile cross his lips. "Alright, as long as you promise not to tell Prowl, because he will have my cranium for doing what we do every week."

Ratchet lifted an optic ridge, but then he crossed his chest plates with a digit. "My spark is crossed and my lips are sealed. Now tell me."

"I promised Arcee, Sideswipe, and Bumblebee that we would go racing as soon as we knew the condition of Optimus Prime," Hot Rod answered. "Every week at night, we go racing on the Bonneville's Salt Flat. Before I left, we took Arcee with us for the first time to have a race, and I ended up beating her. She thinks it was a fluke and so we decided to have another race as soon as we got back to base."

For a moment, Ratchet didn't say anything when Hot Rod spoke of the racing he had been doing alongside his friends. Finally, Ratchet let off a chuckle and he gently petted in between his doorwings, earning a surprised look from him. "At least you've managed to find something to do that doesn't get you into trouble, youngling," he smiled.

"Thanks, Ratch," Hot Rod sighed with relief.

Ratchet waved his hand dismissively. "Your arm should be fully healed by the end of tonight. After that, you can go and do whatever you want. I'll let you know when Optimus starts to wake up from his recharge. He needs a good rest before he fully wakes up, especially considering how severe the injuries were."

Hot Rod looked worriedly at Ratchet.

"Don't worry," Ratchet said when he sensed his concern, "he'll be fine. As I said, I'll let you know if he wakes up."

The youngling sighed and carefully stood up, the blanket sliding off of him. He bent down to pick up and he carefully wrapped it up in a bundle. He attempted to hand it back to Ratchet, but the old mech merely laughed and told him to keep it. Hot Rod shrugged and headed towards the door, but not before a backward glance over his shoulder to see if Optimus really would wake up, but when no sign came, he left.

He had left the med bay far behind him and Hot Rod was still trying to avoid being asked questions on whether or not he was to blame for the fact of what happened to Optimus and when he would wake up from his deep recharge. He really wasn't in the mood to talk with anybody, and he was glad that he managed to get back to his quarters without any trouble. Either someone had been acting as his guardian angel and had been keeping the crowding Autobots occupied while he made his escape, or it was just pure luck.

Once he had reached the safety of his quarters, he immediately locked the door and sat down on the couch that he had missed so much. He had been on his feet for quite a long time during the battle with Harbinger, and even though Ratchet had said he had recharged throughout the entire night, he still felt exhausted and that he didn't think he was going to get enough rest.

As much as he wanted to talk to Arcee, Sideswipe, and Bumblebee, he felt that it was best to avoid them for a little while until he was completely certain that Optimus was going to wake up and know that he was going to continue leading the Autobots. But, somehow, he got a sense of feeling that something was going to end up blowing up in his face like Wheeljack's inventions did.

He sighed and lay down on the couch, pulling the blanket over him. But the sling he wore made it a little bit difficult to get comfortable, so he was forced to face the back of the couch without him putting most of his weight on it. At least he was able to probably get a decent recharge without having to constantly worry about the others and Optimus' wellbeing anymore.

Closing his optics, he switched on his recharge systems and drifted off into a deep slumber. He wasn't sure how long he lay there, but all he could see was darkness. The darkness was warm and comfortable, making him feel safe and secure. Although he felt safe, he still wished a part of him didn't feel the strain of being overly emotional. He knew that he had been through a lot, but who was to say that he had been through worse?

The death of his beloved human – Tracy Bloomwood – had become nothing more than a faraway memory, but the severely injured Optimus Prime had now become a new wound that he desperately wanted to heal. It was enough to drive him to the point on wanting to tap the side of the couch with his fingers...

...wait. There was something tapping? He switched his optics online and looked towards the door of his quarters. The tapping noise happened once, then twice, then thrice before it stopped. He listened for it again, and he was surprised to hear it again. Was someone knocking on his door?

"Who is it?" he asked loud enough for the person to hear him. "If you're here to bother me, go away. I don't want to answer any questions."

"Hot Rod, it's me... Arcee," a familiar feminie voice called.

Surprised, Hot Rod immediately got to his pedes – slightly bumping his twisted arm – and rushed to the door. As he reached it, he wondered as to why Arcee wanted to see him so soon after he had specifically told everyone to leave him alone. Arcee must have had a reason to want to see him. He guessed he would have to live with that. He typed in the code to unlock the door and it opened to reveal Arcee standing right before him, her cyan optics were soft and gentle as she looked him dead in the optic.

"Arcee, what can I do for you?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

"I just wanted to check to see how you were doing," the byzantine femme replied. "I went to go see you down in the med bay, but Ratchet told me you had left for somewhere. I was worried you might have left the base again, so I decided to come down to your quarters to check to make sure."

Hot Rod shifted his weight nervously, unable to make optic contact with his friend. "As you can see, Arcee, I'm fine," he answered. "It's just..." He looked down at the floor sullenly. "I've just got a lot on my processor, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Arcee questioned. "It is usually polite to let a guest enter their quarters, is it not?"

Hot Rod sighed and looked uncertainly over his shoulder, his thoughts quarrelling with his spark. Should he consider letting Arcee in and have a talk with him about his worries in regards to Optimus and the passing of the title of Prime? He probably should at least grant Arcee this request. He recalled how aggressive Springer was acting towards him, and the way how Skyfire had sent him the femme's regards to him when they had reached the shuttle to escort them home. What was going on with everyone? Did they know something he didn't? Pah, it was probably just some joke they were playing on him. Besides, he and Arcee were just friends. There was nothing more, or nothing less.

Finally, he smiled and stepped aside to grant Arcee entrance to his quarters. She smiled back and she entered, her optics never leaving his until he had closed the door and had returned to the couch, his blanket still sitting where he had left it. "Do you want some energon?" he asked.

Arcee just nodded as she took a seat at the couch and Hot Rod headed over to the cabinet where he had kept his energon cubes stored. He was surprised they were still there where he had left them. Had someone left them there in case he had decided to come back? He merely shrugged his shoulders and picked out two cubes before he closed the cabinet and headed back over to Arcee. He handed one to her and he sat down beside her, taking a sip of his.

However, Arcee didn't drink hers yet as she had placed it down on the arm of the couch and looked Hot Rod dead in the optic. "Tell me what is bothering you," she said softly.

"It's... it's complicated, Arcee," Hot Rod answered honestly as he placed the cube on the floor. "I'm worried for Optimus, I'm scared over the fact that I'll soon be the next Prime if Optimus doesn't end up recovering properly from his surgery, and..." He stopped and leaned forward, burrowing his head in his good hand. "I just don't know what to do if something happens to him."

"Nothing will happen to Optimus, Roddy," Arcee smiled as she gently petted him on the back in between his doorwings, earning a sigh of content from him. "He managed to survive the surgery. All Ratchet said, before they know for certain on his condition, is that he's going to be fine. He just needs a good recharge."

"I know," Hot Rod sighed. "It's just... I've got a bad feeling about what's going to happen next when he wakes up and moves around. My processor is telling me that..." He shook his head stubbornly as a single tear leaked from his left optic. "I just don't know what's going to happen, Arcee. All I know is that something will happen and that I'll soon become the next Prime. It's all my fault that this happened to Optimus, Arcee. It's all my fault that he's like this. If I had come back sooner, then none of this would have happened."

"Hot Rod, listen to yourself," Arcee snapped, shocking the young mech completely. "You're not thinking clearly! You're acting like a sparkling by repeating in your processor over and over again about that it's all your fault, when, in fact, it isn't."

"But it is, Arcee!" put in Hot Rod angrily as he stood up to his full height and stormed towards the wall, his back facing his friend. "If I hadn't left, then Optimus wouldn't be in this condition! I could've come back sooner and prevented it. But no, I had to get caught up with Doubledealer who threatened my life!"

"You didn't even know about the mission to Alaska until Doubledealer told you," Arcee answered calmly. "The point is that when you fought Doubledealer, you realised that you were wrong and that leaving the Autobots hadn't exactly been the best thing in the universe. However, if it weren't for Doubledealer, you would not have mastered your sword and saved your own life. You wouldn't even be here right now, Optimus would have died on the battlefield, and Harbinger would have wiped all life off this planet that you call home. Is that all you really need to know, Hot Rod? Because, honestly, I need you to wake up, suck it in, and be a mech for once in your life cycle!"

For once in his six-year life, Hot Rod was completely stupefied by Arcee's words. It not only shocked him, but it also caused him to realise that the femme was indeed right. How many times must he go through the thought that it was his fault when in fact, it even wasn't. They had happened for a reason, and it was time that he accepted it was as it was meant to be. Primus or God must have something in store for him if he was supposed to become the next Prime soon if Optimus didn't exactly recover properly.

"You're right, Arcee," he sighed quietly, "Optimus would have died on the battlefield if I had not saved him from Harbinger's wrath in time. I just hope that he'll be ok and that we won't have to worry about anything anymore."

"Hot Rod," Arcee smiled as she leaned her head against his shoulder, much to his surprise, "you finally see that it isn't your fault. Whatever happens, happens, and you can bet that all three of us will be by your side if you end up becoming the next Prime in line." She looked up at him with her cyan optics unblinking in the cool darkness. "That we promise you."

"Thanks, Arcee," Hot Rod smiled. "This is the second time I owe you one."

The byzantine giggled and she gently kissed him on the top of his helmet, making him even more puzzled by her sudden change towards him. Her lips on his cranium felt warm and it made him feel better to know that she would always be by his side no matter what decision he made in the future.

He shrugged off the thought as Arcee looked into his optics. "I better go and get some rest," she smiled. "We still have a race to do tomorrow."

As she turned to leave, a though clicked into his processor and he gently took her arm in his good hand, stopping her dead in her tracks and forcing her to look down at him with confusion in her optics. "Wait," he said, although he was shocked by sudden the plea in his tone, "would you... like to stay here for the night? It's a long way back to your quarters and you're tired. That is... if you don't mind at all..."

She lifted an optic ridge in puzzlement at his request, and she seemed to think about it for a moment, as she didn't say anything for a good long while. Then a smile appeared on her lips as she nodded her response. "Of course I'd like to stay, Hot Rod," she replied. "I don't mind at all."

A blush appeared on the young mech's cheeks and he felt warmer than ever. He quickly sipped the rest of his energon in order to get rid of the confusion inside his spark. Primus, he must be crazy to be letting a femme stay with him in his quarters. He just hoped that no one got the wrong idea, including Springer. It was bad enough as it was that the dark green mech was showing signs of aggression towards him for an unexplained reason. He merely shook it off, pushing it into the deepest part of his processor as he banished the thought completely.

"So where will I recharge?" Arcee asked as she glanced around the room.

Uh oh, Hot Rod didn't know anything about how to settle a guest in his quarters. He really was a complete idiot for asking Arcee to stay with him for the night. He felt like as if his spark was going to burst right out of his chest cavity!

"Um," he tried to say, but his vocal processor locked up automatically until he forced it to work again. "Uh, um, how about my berth... I mean the couch! Yes, the couch!" He covered his face with his good hand in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

Arcee laughed with amusement and she shook her head. "The couch is fine, Roddy," she chuckled. "Do you have a spare blanket and pillow?"

Hot Rod nodded frantically and he immediately bolted to the cabinet where he kept the energon. He got down on his knees and fished out an amber coloured blanket and a pillow for her to rest her head on. He then returned to her side, picked up his blanket, placed the spare pillow on the right side of the couch and unfolded the amber-coloured blanket neatly enough for Arcee to keep warm under.

"Uh, I hope you like it," Hot Rod said, his gaze averting her own.

"Its fine, thank you," Arcee laughed as she stepped forward and hugged him. He was amused by her hug and he hugged her right back.

For some strange reason, the two seemed perfectly well matched for each other's bodies. The way how they stood at almost the exact same height and the way how Arcee was a head shorter than him. It made him wonder as to why they were even exactly the same.

She had a pair of doorwings just like him that twitched and reacted to her every emotion, her byzantine armour even matched the way his looked. It covered her chest, shoulders, forearms, lower legs and calves, her helmet, and even the outer cheeks. Her face was beautifully formed, feminie and lithe. If it were not for the fact that she had parts that shifted and moved whenever she emoted, she would have looked almost exactly like a human woman.

Great, and here he was thinking that Arcee could win all the sparks of mechs and make them overload on the spot. Thinking about that made him feel suddenly... jealous and overprotective. His optics widened in surprise. Why would he be jealous? Arcee was allowed to choose whoever she wanted. Besides, he was an earthborn mech who stood no chance of winning any femme's spark. It was better to just live a life of solitude and never think about it again. He might have the appearance of a mech, but his youngling processor would never catch up with his full-grown body.

"Hot Rod, are you ok?" Arcee's voice asked, startling him completely.

He jumped backwards in surprise and he once again felt himself warm internally. He cleared his vocal processor and stood up straight. "Yeah, never better in fact," he laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Just thinking about how amazing you look. I can bet my doorwings that you have all the mechs quaking in their knees at the sight of you."

Arcee lifted an optic ridge, bemused. Now it was her turn to blush at Hot Rod's words. "T-thank you, Hot Rod, for your kind words."

He mentally slapped himself in the face. Maybe it was best that he just dropped the subject and head off to his berth. He sighed and wished Arcee a goodnight before he turned and headed for his quarters. All this talking had made him tired again, but he suppose that was normal after his first big battle. He knew there was more to come due to him making an enemy in Megatron, and it was going to cost him dearly in the distant future. Arcee's words of goodnight reached his audio receptors just as he reached his room, and he found himself smiling at the fact that she was indeed a good friend to have, and he hoped that whatever mech she found would look after her well and treat her with the respect she deserves.

He curled up in his berth and pulled the blanket over him to keep the cold away. Sighing with relief, he found himself drifting into a deep, dreamless recharge.

"Ratchet to Hot Rod! Come in, Hot Rod!"

Hot Rod leapt with a start and he fell off his recharge berth. He landed roughly on his side, although he was grateful for the fact that his twisted arm had healed according to Ratchet's predictions. He rubbed his aft painfully and pressed the intercom. "Hot Rod here," he groaned.

"Oh thank Primus you're awake," Ratchet's voice sighed with relief. "I just thought I should let you know that Optimus is beginning to stir. Come immediately, youngling, or you'll miss it!"

When he heard Ratchet's news, Hot Rod was up on his pedes and heading straight towards the door of his room. He spotted Arcee recharging peacefully until he started shaking her awake, much to her annoyance. Before she could give him a verbal beating, he pulled her from off the couch, shouting Optimus' name a few times before he ran as fast he could to the door without a backward glance over his shoulder.

He wasn't sure if she was following or not, but he didn't care. The fact that Optimus was waking up right now made him overly excited to know that his adoptive father was going to be alright and make it through after all.

Hot Rod reached the med bay so quickly that he ended up bumping into Sideswipe and Bumblebee, who were sitting in the waiting room. He stood dead in his tracks, his doorwings flaring excitedly as he smiled a greeting to his two guardians. Bumblebee approached him and shook his hand happily.

"It's great news isn't it, Hot Rod?" Bumblebee warbled excitedly. "Optimus is going to be back on his pedes any time soon."

Sideswipe nodded in agreement just as Arcee came in from behind Hot Rod, her breath was heavy but Hot Rod couldn't worry about that now. His spark was thundering furiously inside his chamber and he was starting to feel way too excited to even let Arcee draw his attention away from the door that they were both standing in front of.

It was during Hot Rod's overly excited ramblings that Ratchet finally stepped out of the private room with Ironhide carefully leading Optimus with his left arm draped over his shoulder. Optimus wasn't leaning most of his weight on the black mech's body, but he seemed to be walking perfectly fine thanks to Ironhide's assistance.

"The big guy didn't want to stay on the berth and rest?" Arcee asked with amusement.

"No," Ratchet sighed, shaking his head. "I had to give him a quick injection of painkillers, because he stubbornly insisted that he wanted to get up and see you all with his own optics. Ugh, young mechs. I'll never understand how you all think."

"Hey!" Hot Rod growled.

Ratchet seemed to ignore him as Ironhide carefully led Optimus over a chair. However, Optimus merely pushed the old mech away and placed his hand upon the wall to support his massive form until he managed to let go of it and stand up to his full height steadily with Ratchet and Ironhide standing closely behind him.

"How are you feeling, Optimus?" the young mech asked as he looked over at the Autobot commander with worry in his optics.

Optimus flexed one of his arms and wiggled his digits, smiling fondly as he tested its strength out. "I am well, Hot Rod," he answered. "Ratchet thinks that I need to rest a bit more, but I reassured him that I am fine and that I do not need to anymore."

"Yet," grumbled Ratchet, "you still haven't fully recovered are not going back to active duty until I am certain you have fully regained mobility in your limbs."

Optimus merely rolled his optics and he looked at Hot Rod with a gaze that lingered with a proud smile. "Ratchet told me earlier about your bravery and what you did to save my life from Harbinger," he said. "He would have surely killed me if it had not been for your perfect timing. Everyone started calling you by your true name and you accepted it as though it truly was your name."

He bowed his head solemnly. "I'm sorry, Rodimus, for putting so much pressure on you. I should have listened to you in the first place and granted you more freedom like you would have always wanted."

"Optimus," Hot Rod spoke up. He then realised he was acting out of place and he bowed his head slightly. "Um, permission to speak freely, Sir?"

The Autobot commander raised a hand and shook his head. "You do not need my permission to speak your processor, Hot Rod," he chuckled, his deep baritone voice rumbling with his laughter. "As Ratchet said, I am not on duty until I have fully recovered from the battle with Harbinger."

Hot Rod nodded and he took a deep breath as he spoke. "Arcee and I had a talk about what happened with you out there on the battlefield. I kept on blaming myself for your injuries, thinking that I could have come back sooner in order to help you out and fight alongside you to take down Harbinger like I was meant to."

Optimus glanced from Ratchet to Ironhide, and then back at Hot Rod again. "Rodimus," he said kindly, "I knew that I was due to eventually fight Harbinger thanks to the Matrix of Leadership, yet I never knew the outcome of the fight because it never told me what was going to happen. It obviously knew that you were going to come back and take down Harbinger once and for all. If it had not been for Doubledealer attempting to kill you, you would not have mastered you sword's transformation."

He tilted his head downwards as his wise optics continued to stare into Hot Rod's youthful ones.

"And for your bravery in saving my life," he went on, "I have decided to train you in order to help you prepare for when you are to become the next Prime. The Matrix did not exactly say when you are due to become Prime, but I can promise you, I will prepare you to the best of my abilities until I know for certain that you no longer need me."

Without thinking, Hot Rod took a few shaky steps forward and embraced Optimus carefully so as to not cause him any pain. He thought he heard Optimus give a surprised gasp at his sudden move until he felt a pair of large arms wrap around his frame in response, hugging him back and squeezing him with a small amount of force.

"Thank you, Optimus," Hot Rod whispered. "I will make you proud. I promise."

"You do not need to make a promise to make me proud, Rodimus," Optimus whispered into his audio receptors. "You already have made me the proudest mech on the face of this planet. I cannot thank you enough for saving my life."

"I guess we all owe Rodimus our lives," Ironhide chuckled. "He not only saved our Prime, but he also ensured that we lived to fight another day."

"But," Hot Rod sighed when he let go of Optimus, "eleven of us will never get to see that flame of hope."

"First lesson of becoming a Prime, Rodimus," Optimus smiled as he gently rubbed Hot Rod's helmet, "is learning to accept that death will always happen in a war. You can never prevent someone from dying in a battle, no matter how much you want to. Though it will be hard to accept, you will know that their sacrifices will not be in vain. Remember that, youngling, and you will never stray from your path."

Hot Rod felt a little bit better as Optimus gave him his first lesson. He nodded and wiped away a tear that threatened to fall from his optic. "I will remember, Father," he answered as he stood tall with pride, puffing out his chest in acknowledgement.

Throughout the rest of the day, Optimus was forced to not move around too much until Ratchet knew for certain about the exterior damage to his spinal column. Although Optimus knew he was being stubborn, Ratchet more than once threatened to strap him down on his berth in his quarters until he had fully recovered from his battle with Harbinger. Much to Optimus' chagrin, Prowl decided it was best if he took command of the Autobot forces until the Autobot commander no longer had any problems with his mobility.

Until he could get back into active duty, Optimus did exactly as he had promised with Hot Rod.

Once every few days, the youngling met in his quarters and sat down with Optimus to have a game of poker while they were doing their lessons. The reason for Optimus wanting to play poker with him was to teach him how to read someone's body language and identify it without any problems. It was also to help the youngling cope with keeping a straight face on the battlefield because he had no mask to hide his emotions nor protect it from harm. If his face so as even faltered, Hot Rod was going to be taken advantage of and would end up meeting his end at the hands of Megatron.

At first Hot Rod wasn't good, but he was a quick learner, and he even absorbed every act of information Optimus fed him. He took it all in and focused it to the point it would probably make his processor ache.

Whenever Optimus wasn't busy teaching Hot Rod what he knew, he spent most of his time resting in his quarters reading data pads he had already read in the past. Ironhide and Ratchet would pay him a visit whenever he was not occupied with Hot Rod, and they would talk about what has been going on outside the room. Optimus learned that Hot Rod's lessons with the other officers had resumed and he was progressing extremely well. There seemed to be a new fire in the youngling's optics now, which burned even brighter whenever they had a lesson of their own.

Optimus wondered where this Hot Rod had come from and where the inexperienced and stubborn youngling had gone. That is until Ironhide told him about how Hot Rod had fought Doubledealer and had defended himself with his sword. It had caused Hot Rod to suddenly wake up and realise that he was destined for something truly great soon, and that he was to rise up and conquer it head on in due time.

It was two weeks after he had woken up from his coma that Ratchet decided to let him know that in order to truly find out if he had recovered from his ordeal was to see how he fared in a fight. In order to do that, they would need the training room, and according to Ironhide, Hot Rod was having his lesson with Sideswipe and the other students.

As much as Optimus didn't want to interrupt the young mech's lesson, he knew that Ratchet would get impatient. Optimus wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible before he was to return to active duty and continue on his lonely life as the Autobot commander and the Last of the Primes.

But he was no longer alone now that Hot Rod had come into his life. It was a miracle to think that not too long ago he was the only descendent of the Dynasty of Primes, only to be proven wrong with the discovery of Hot Rod – who was now beginning to go by his true name, yet not fully accepting it – and the rise of a new Prime when his time eventually came to lead the Autobots into battle. The thought of Hot Rod standing in front of a mighty battalion of Autobots caused Optimus to smile proudly.

A slap across the back of his head snapped him from out of his daze.

"Optimus, stop daydreaming and let's get this over with," Ratchet huffed with annoyance. "I don't need your thoughts wandering from what has to be done. Do I make myself clear?"

Optimus had to nod dejectedly and not answer his old friend's impatience.

He understood that Ratchet was acting a little bit uptight today all because they were about to reach the final stage in his physical recovery. Although Optimus insisted that he was perfectly fine and that he needed no test, Ratchet merely growled at him and told him that something could have gone wrong in the surgery or that he may not have fully recovered. Ratchet wanted only to be sure just to be on the safe side in case there was anything wrong.

As they headed towards the training room, Optimus was aware that many of the Autobots were ogling over his shimmering armour that he had worked so hard to polish in order to make his appearance more glamorous. The fact that he had been seen in over two weeks had caused a rumour to spread that he was actually dead, or so Hot Rod had told him when he had last seen him.

Optimus had to laugh at the way how Hot Rod said those words. The young mech – according to his annoyed tone – had obviously been caught by Prowl for speeding through the corridors in his vehicle mode when he wasn't supposed to and had been sent to the brig for it.

Although, somehow, Prowl had lessened the punishment time someone had to be in the brig for by only an Earth hour, and Hot Rod was in there for only at least five hours instead of the usual six. The worse the wrongdoing, the more the hours in the brig increased. Optimus wondered what had caused the sudden change in spark in Prowl, but he decided it was best he didn't ask. No doubt Prowl decided to show his gratitude by letting Hot Rod spend less time in the brig than he originally should.

"Optimus," Ratchet growled and Optimus realised he had zoned out again. "We're here now. You're standing there gaping like a fish out of water. Pay attention to what's in front of you, not what's in your processor!"

Optimus blinked and he realised his mouth had been open the entire time, and he quickly closed it. It had taken him another second to realise that they had arrived at the training room, and that Sideswipe's students were looking at him with puzzlement. Hot Rod, however, seemed to be covering his face with his right hand, as though he was embarrassed about something.

"Alright, my students," Sideswipe called from afar, clapping his hands, "it's time to clear the area. Ratchet has brought in Optimus to see how his recovery has been. If you want to stick around to watch, then get permission from Ratchet. If he says no, then please leave immediately."

"They can watch, Sideswipe," Ratchet said, "as long as they do not cause any trouble. This test is merely to see how Optimus' recovery is coming along. If anything happens, I want you all to stay out of the way and keep your distance."

"Understood, Ratchet," Sideswipe responded, and he turned to his students. "If you want to stick around to watch, go ahead. If not, you may leave the room. The class has been dismissed for the day."

The students looked at one another, but Optimus instantly knew what Hot Rod's answer was going to be. Metalhawk and Star Saber immediately departed without a backward glance over their shoulder, leaving Sideswipe and Hot Rod the only spectators in the room.

Satisfied, Ratchet stood beside them and watched Optimus carefully as the blue and red mech strolled into the middle of the room. It had been a while since he had trained in the room due to him being out of commission for a while. He wondered if he was a little bit rusty in his skills, but he knew that his training would kick in automatically. The fact that he was trained by the best Autobots he had ever known made him feel a little bit overconfident. He quickly banished all thoughts into the back of his processor and took a fighting stance.

"Whenever you're ready, Optimus," Ratchet called from the sidelines. "I'll be here in case anything goes wrong."

Optimus nodded as he closed his optics for a moment, going deep inside his processor to recall what he had been trained to do. In an instant, a memory clicked in as he balled his fists together and threw several punches, followed by a roundhouse kick with his left leg, then a sudden twist of his body and he extended his right leg in a straight kick.

Nothing happened.

"Very good," Ratchet praised, earning a clap from both Sideswipe and Hot Rod. "Try something a little harder. Use your swords."

"Understood, Ratchet," Optimus replied. He then pulled his hands inside his forearms as both his blades activated. They glowed a bright orange colour, the blades radiating with fierce heat that didn't bother Optimus at all.

As he started to swing his swords in a cutting motion, he suddenly felt his body lock up and he ended up pausing right in the middle of a swing. Before he could even calculate what had happened, an overwhelming sense of pain exploded from his back, earning a bloodcurdling scream that rattled the walls of the entire base. The pain was so sudden and so quick that he was on his knees and pressing his forehead into the floor. He then found himself lying on his side as he heard Ratchet's cry of alarm. His vision was swimming as he struggled to maintain his sense of panic and confusion.

When the pain showed no signs of stopping, Optimus wished for nothing more than it to end. Colours danced around in his field of sight, and eventually dark patches of black followed in suite. He could have sworn that he heard Ratchet calling out his name, but he was deaf to all sounds.

But his sense of feeling was not.

Despite the burning, white hot pain going through his entire body, he became aware that there were comforting arms wrapped around his chassis. He thought he heard a voice, but it sounded so far away and almost beyond hearing range. Optimus tried to focus on the voice, but he couldn't.

It was all too much! He wanted it to end right here and now!

A lime green movement came into his sight and he felt someone take a hold of one his bunched up arms. He felt a slight sting that made him scream, and it overrode the sense of pain that was still burning throughout his entire body structure.

Then the pain dropped to a numbing sensation, and then darkness overcame him. After that... he know no more.

Oh my dear, readers. What have you just read? That is right. THAT was my cruellest cliffhanger ever. *laughs evilly and poofs before her readers can throw sticks and stones at her* If you thought Mistress Megatron was the Queen of Cliffhangers, then I believe I might be rivalling her.

See you in the next chapter, people! 8D