Chapter 33 – One day at a time

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Repeat.

Even though it had been a fortnight since – that horrible day – it still felt as though I was reliving it each day. I felt numb. I didn't want to eat. I barely slept because when I closed my eyes the nightmares came. I didn't want to leave my apartment. I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted Chase. I wanted to turn back time and stop him from walking out the door. I wished it had been me - or both of us.

At first, Lennox and Epps took it in turns to call by and see me each day, as did a few of the other N.E.S.T team I had been friendly with. After the first few days the visits dwindled for a number of reasons; Decepticon activity was at an all-time high and N.E.S.T was operating constantly and people didn't know what to say to me. What do you say to someone in this situation that has not already been said? It was awkward and I didn't help by sitting and staring or crying. Eventually, most people stopped calling by and Lennox and Epps only called by every other day making sure I had food and encouraged me to eat or shower. Most of the time I did it to shut them up and make them leave.

The Autobots had taken it in turns to call by my place and sit outside in vehicle mode – watching, waiting, offering silent support. Bumblebee, Sam and Mikaela had flown back for the funeral. It had been surreal. To think only a few weeks before I had been introducing Chase to them and now – they were helping me bury him. The thought brought fresh tears to my eyes which surprised me in a way as I did not think I had anymore left.

The evening shadows began to crawl along the wall. I stayed where I was on the couch. The bedroom held too many memories. My world had come down to this one room. Cocooned in light blankets on the couch I watched as the last rays of day were consumed by darkness. I sat there. Alone. Until I heard a familiar rumbling engine and the sound of a truck's compression brakes kicking in.

/Prime/.

Every evening without fail he would arrive outside my apartment and sit below my window in the street. He would not move until the following morning when another Autobot presented themselves and took over duty. He was the one constant in my life – apart from the pain. I lay there listening as his engine rumbled for a few moments before it was cut. I almost expected him to transform but there was nothing – silence. He did not push me to speak, he did not offer empty platitudes, he did not expect anything from me, just offered silent and constant support.

Since that day, I had shut everything and everyone out of my life – shutting down to cope with the magnitude of pain I was going through. I even shut Prime out for the first few days until one evening I heard the lyrics to a familiar song playing on the radio outside, drifting up to my window.

I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
It's hard to find relief and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and
You feel like you can't take anymore

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone

I had gotten up off the lounge and walked in a trance like state to the balcony and simply lent on the railing and cried. I slumped there, crying softly. Cathartic tears of pain and thanks fell from hollow, sunken eyes down my pale cheeks and I clung to the lyrical lifeline Prime was throwing to me as though my life depended on it – maybe it did.

After what felt like an age, I stood up and wiped my eyes. The large red and blue truck shone in the moonlight. I took a deep breath and waved, whispering the words, ''Thank you''. The lights on the truck flashed once in recognition and the song played again. I had walked back inside and lay back on the lounge. The song drifting up into my room and cocooning me in warmth and comfort. For the first time in days I had fallen asleep in relative peace, my heart feeling a little lighter.

Now, once again, he had come to keep me company, a silent sentry guarding a broken heart. I closed my eyes and sighed. Gathering my blankets, and my strength, I stood and walked towards the balcony. Opening the door, I stepped outside into the cool night air and up to the railing to take in the outline of my dear friend waiting below.

For a long moment neither of us spoke. I looked to the heavens, seeing my stars for the first time in a fortnight and I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily. Prime remained silent – ever patiently waiting for me.

''You know Prime,'' my voice sounded foreign even to me. ''Bumblebee might be annoyed if he found out that you're muscling in on his territory by using the radio to communicate," my voice, although weak held a slightly playful tone to it.

At the sound of my voice and the tone within it, there was a hissing of gears and pistons as the truck transformed into an impressive robot that knelt below my balcony like a giant, metallic Romeo. One of his servos lay across his bent knee, the other clasped the balcony beside me. His optics shone brightly /How I have missed seeing those ''eyes''/ and a smile played on his dermas. He didn't speak, just let the lyrics, ''I get knocked down, but I get up again, you are never gonna keep me down,'' by Chumbawamba play through his radio.

I laughed out loud at the combined hilarity of Optimus ''playing Bumblebee'' and the fact the stoic Prime referenced a drinking song. The sound of my laughter elicited a bigger smile from the Prime and for a moment it was as though nothing had happened. As my laughter subsided, I shook my head slowly, tilting it to the side as I considered my dear metallic friend, ''No. Doesn't suit you. Your voice is meant to be heard,'' and I sent a weak smile towards him.

Prime's deep baritone voice rumbled softly, ''Then I shall gladly talk with you all night if that will help you in some small measure OC.''

I tentatively reached out my right hand from under the blankets and slid it along the rail towards Prime's servo, though I stilled it before it touched the digit nearest me. If I reached out and touched him it would mean reconnection – it would mean I was choosing to step out of the darkness and back into the light. I hesitated – did I want this?

Without saying a word, and in a cautious manner, Prime gently slid his servo along the rail the remaining distance until we were touching. He had made the decision for me – and I was grateful. The warmth of his metal servo began to banish the cold that had taken hold of me. A mixture of grateful and regretful tears welled in my eyes and I sniffed them back. ''Prime, it… it hurts so much. I feel… empty - numb,'' I turned misty eyes up to his optics. ''Will it ever stop?'' I asked beseechingly. While I was no stranger to loss and pain, being an orphan, this was a different kind of hurt.

Prime's gaze softened and he spoke softly to me. ''In time OC. The pain will fade. You will be able to breathe again; you will feel again, and you will function again. You will never forget, but you will be able to move forward.'' He kept his servo beside my hand and kept his gaze fixed on me. Blinking once.

I looked back at his servo against my hand, that simple connection. I took a deep breath and looked back into his optics. ''Is… is that what happened for you with Elita? How, how did you cope?'' I asked hesitantly, unsure I should be asking and unsure I wanted the answer.

Prime turned his optics to the heavens briefly, as if drawing solace from them, before looking back at me. His optics carried within them shadows of the pain that coursed through me. ''When I lost contact with Elita and our bond was severed, I felt as though my spark had been ripped in two, as though a gaping hole was torn in my chest threatening to consume me. I felt anger, overwhelming sadness, loss and disbelief.''

I nodded my head as I recognised those same feelings at war within myself. Prime closed his optics as though remembering. Without knowing, I moved my hand to rest on top of his digit in silent support and comfort. He opened his optics again, casting them down towards my hand before speaking again. ''I did not have the opportunity to grieve Elita. I was fighting a war of survival. I was Prime and my first duty was to my Autobots – not my spark. I had to bury my pain deep inside, switch it off and focus on what had to be done, not what I needed to do.'' I closed my eyes in silent sympathy for what he had had to endure – alone.

He paused, raising his optics to focus on me again, ''Talking to you, and at times to Rachet and Ironhide, is the only opportunity I have had to process my emotions and thoughts. When it first happened I would take it moment by moment, then hour by hour eventually becoming day by day until one day, you can get through the whole day or the whole week without the memories threatening to overwhelm and consume you.''

I removed my hand from his servo and gave a self-depreciating snort, ''And here I am, having known Chase for a second compared to the time you and Elita had together in your relationship and I have done nothing but wallow in self-pity and sorrow,'' fresh tears stung my eyes and the recriminating tone in my voice made Prime raise his servo and gently touch his digit under my chin, bidding me look at him.

''OC,'' Prime admonished gently, ''You do whatever you need to do to get through this. If you have the need, or the opportunity to grieve, take it! It is not a sign of weakness OC, to allow yourself to fall apart. Do not perceive yourself as anything but strong, for you are indeed strong, in so many ways. Though it may feel otherwise now, this will not destroy you. You will build yourself back up again – and I wish you would let me help you do that,'' Prime's optics looked imploringly into mine, searching for acquiescence.

I moved both of my hands to grab hold of his digit and bringing it to my face, I closed my eyes, as I pressed my cheek against it. After a moment of comfort, I opened my eyes once again, a new and determined fire burning in them. ''On one condition Prime,'' I challenged.

Prime tilted his helm, ''And that would be OC?'' he asked tentatively.

I smiled at him, releasing his digit and gesturing for him to move his helm closer to me, which he did obligingly. As he was mere centimetres from me, I reached out, placed both my hands on the crest between his optics and placed my forehead against his. ''You take your own advice and allow yourself to grieve. Let me help you heal too,'' and I gently caressed his helm as our foreheads rested against each other.

I felt Prime's body relax slightly, as though the tension he had been holding within him for millennia, was released, and I heard him ex-vent deeply as though expelling his own demons, ''OC, you have already helped me in so many ways, but, I will gladly accept your offer if that is what you wish,'' his voice rumbled deeply.

I caressed his helm one last time and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, stepping back. Prime moved his helm away to look at me again, his optics shining brightly with some unnamed emotion. I smiled up at him, ''Yes, it is what I wish.'' I sighed. Optimus returned my smile.

My heart felt lighter, as though a burden had been lifted, the pain, although still there, was not as raw and all consuming. /Perhaps it has already begun?/ I thought to myself. The journey towards healing had started. Though I knew it was going to be a long path, one that might not end for many months or years yet, the point was I would survive and come out the other end, perhaps stronger and more resilient for it.

The proof that it was possible, was kneeling before me.