I only own Marianne/Mariposa PRIME!


AN!

To all of those who insist "Prime" must be earned: Yes, I know they say that in TFP, but Google "Dynasty of Primes Transformers movies". In ROTF, there was a scene—one cut out of the movie—where Megatron tells Optimus the Fallen told him he'd make him a Prime. Optimus responds with "Primes are born, not made." He was sparked a Prime (In TFP, reincarnated from the Thirteenth, descended from the First, as Orion Pax without knowing his lineage. Alpha Trion knew, though. Elita, though not a Prime, would be descended from Solus because she's a femme.). This connection to Solus and Prima descends to Mariposa. She is born a Prime.

Research proving my point and quoted from the page: "...Most revered were Optimus and Megatron. They were twin brothers of the Prime dynasty." (The Quest For the ALLSPARK) "In time, The Fallen encountered Megatron, and directed him to form the Decepticons, promising him the powers of a Prime in exchange for his loyalty." (Revenge of the Fallen) "In the battle that followed, Optimus proclaimed that the Fallen had forfeited his right to be a Prime when he slaughtered his brothers, and told Megatron that Primes were born, not made. Realizing he had been betrayed, Megatron and Starscream abandoned the Fallen and used the space bridge he had created to escape. Optimus then impaled the Fallen through the head with his own spear. With the death of The Fallen, Optimus Prime became sole inheritor of the Matrix and the last of the Dynasty of Primes." (Dynasty of Primes Wiki & Revenge of the Fallen)


WARNING!

This is going to be a tearjerker. Have tissues handy. I almost cried writing it.


Sick

We get home around seven—which is almost my bedtime. Carrier fixes me a nice, warm bubble bath and lets me play while she puts my new stuff away in my closet—including my new stuff that's going to wait for my first ever pageant. She returns a few minutes later and washes my hair before helping me scrub.

Once I'm dry and snuggled up in my pink and red butterfly pajamas, my wet hair up in two braids for the night so it won't get tangled—I usually prefer to be in my pretender form when we're on Earth, after all—she sits on the side of the bed with a book and reads me a story. Tonight, it's Sleeping Beauty. I cuddle down in my bed with my fleece blankie and Rosie, my teddy bear.

"And they all lived happily ever after." Carrier tucks me in before slipping a pacifier in my mouth. "Good night, Sweetspark. I love you."

"Wuv wu too." She kisses my forehead before giving me a worried look. "You feel a little warm…" She turns toward their door when we hear a metallic clank. Sire had gone to put Bumbee to berth. He's twelve, like Raf, and they're best friends. "Orion!"

"What happened?"

"Mari feels warm…"

Sire shifts down to holoform and runs the back of a hand over my cheek. "She is all right." Sire brushes my wet hair back and smiles down at me. "Right, Sweetspark?" I nod up at him. My tummy hurts, and I just feel yucky, but I don't want him to worry about me. "I will have Ratchet look her over in the morning."

"All right." Carrier tugs him toward their berth room. "I'll hold you to that."

I roll over onto my side and pull Rosie to my chest before closing my eyes.


Tuesday, 11-29, 2 AM

I sit up straight before hugging my tummy. It really hurts now, and I feel like I'm gonna puke. "DADDY!" I slap my hand over my mouth and run to my bathroom before hitting my knees in front of the toilet right before I throw up a mix of energon and my turkey dinner. I puke two more times before I hear the metal door open.

"Mari? Sweetspark?"

I groan and lay my head on the toilet seat. "In here…"

"Mari…" Sire runs over, shifting to holoform fluidly before kneeling beside me. "Sweetspark…" He sighs and runs a hand over my forehead. "You're burning up…" He reaches up to his comm immediately. "Ratchet!"

"Someone better be purging, or so help me…"

"It's Mari!"

Ratchet's instantly off his usual tirade. "I'll meet you in the medical bay—downstairs."

"I will be there shortly." He turns to me right as I puke again—this time on me and the floor as well as the toilet—then start to cry as I end up pooping on myself as well.

"Daddy! Make i' 'top!"

"Oh, Sweetspark… I wish I could…" He sighs heavily before looking around, his eyes landing on the door to my closet. "Hang on a minute. I will be right back." He ducks inside and grabs one of the pull-ups they keep on hand just in case. I hadn't needed them in weeks, but I guess I do now.

He reappears with the butterfly pull-up, my Strawberry Shortcake nightgown, and my strawberry robe and slippers, as well as a strawberry fleece blanket that I had folded up on a shelf in the closet—I have a lot of them, because they're stimmies for me.

He lays them all on the counter—along with my pink metal bucket from my cleaning locker—before pulling out a plain red washcloth and getting it wet. "All right, Sweetspark. We have to get you cleaned up before we can go downstairs." He carefully takes off my pajamas before cleaning the puke and poop off me as gently as he can with the warm cloth. "Now…" He helps me into the pull-up and my nightgown, then slips my robe on me and ties the belt gently. I stick my feet out so he can put my slippers on, then watch as he turns back to the counter. He turns back with my Strawberry Shortcake rag doll and blankie, as well as a fleece blanket. He hands me the doll and blankie before wrapping me up in the blanket. He clips a pacifier clip to my robe before slipping a pink Strawberry pacifier into my mouth, then sets the pink bucket on my lap before scooping me up as gently as he can. "Just hang in there, Sweetspark."

"M'kay…"

As soon as we're off the tile, he shifts back up to his normal form before carrying me against his spark, down the hall to the equipment elevator.


Sire steps into the medical bay. We'd had to stop once so I could puke again, so the bucket's in his free hand instead of my lap. "Ratchet."

Ratchet leans over from the berth in the main room. "Bring her over here, Optimus." Sire sets me on the cold metal berth. Ratchet runs gentle hands over me. "Symptoms?"

Sire runs a hand over my head. "Purging, diarrhea, fever… possible headache…" He sighs worriedly. "I made her clean her plate last night… Do you think—"

Ratchet slips the ducky thermometer they keep on hand for me under my tongue, then pulls it out when it beeps. "103.5… Primus, Little One…" He sighs heavily before looking down at me as he pushes on my tummy. "Does this hurt, Sweetspark?" I shake my head. "I doubt her illness was caused by a little paternal anxiety on your part, Optimus. We're all worried about her low weight, but we can't do much unless we find some energon. She's too used to it now—she doesn't want human food unless it's sweet." He turns to the medicine cabinet where they keep the human medicines for my pretender form. "It's probably just a virus—possibly cyber-flu, more likely a simple case of gastroenteritis caused by running around with the human population during flu season with her immune system so screwed up." Sire raises an eyebrow ridge. "Stomach flu. I'll keep her in here with me for the day just to be sure." He turns back to me with a small tray. I shy away. I know what it means—yucky medicine. He sets it in front of me. There's a little cup of reddish purple liquid, a little cup of purple liquid, and a literal baby bottle—a big pink metal one—of something. "Take the purple one first. It'll help your tummy." I swallow it and make a face, then quickly down the other one before grabbing the baby bottle quickly.

"What is in the bottle?"

"Children's electrolyte solution. I had Agent Fowler stock us up last time he brought supplies."

"I's stwawbewwy!"

Ratchet nods before picking me up. "I'll get her settled in her med-bay room, Optimus. You need to get back to berth. At least one of us needs to be fully charged in case the Decepticons attack."

"Has First Aid returned yet?"

Ratchet nods, causing me to perk up. "Aidie?"

"Drink, Sweetspark. You need the electrolytes."


As soon as I finish the bottle, Ratchet carries me back into my little pink and red strawberry themed room and tucks me in before tapping the little pink string on the wall. "You remember what this is for?"

"I pull, you come."

"Yep." He gives me a mock glare. "Don't pull it just because you're bored, though. I'll be doing paperwork in my office until First Aid comes down at six. Try to get some rest, Little One."

I whimper. "No feels goo'. Wan' cuddles…" I reach up to him. "Wock me!"

Ratchet sighs heavily. "Mari, I'm already two weeks behind from the last stint you did in the medical bay!"

I whimper even though he has a point. I'd just gotten out the day before Carrier got hurt in the field—only five days ago. That time I was in here because I had a cold, which quickly became RSV, which then became Croup. Carrier spent the days with me while Sire recharged, and Sire stayed with me at night so Carrier could recharge, and Ratchet stayed in the med-bay for two weeks, barely recharging, because his assistant—and one of my favorite non-family mechs—was out helping Defensor, who was helping in tsunami relief in the Middle East for the last three weeks. The world knows about them, just not us—not really. Besides the code system, we have no contact with the outside world unless we're in holoforms or vehicle mode. My breathing had gotten so bad Ratchet said I'd almost died at the start of the second week.

He sighs heavily. "I can't rock you right now, Mari." With that, he leaves the room.


Hot Spot's POV

The sound of a comm alert pulls me out of recharge. "Yeah?"

"Hot Spot, could you come to medical?"

"Ratchet? Aid already—"

"It's not for a medical exam." Ratchet sighs on the other end of the comm. "Mari's in the med-bay again. Tank virus. Came out of recharge and started purging."

"Poor thing…"

"And I'm still trying to catch up on paperwork from her last stay in medical."

"Do you need me to send First Aid?"

"I would have commed him if I needed him." Ratchet sighs heavily. "I sent Optimus to recharge. They've spent too much time already at her bedside…"

I know the tone in his voice too well—my brothers and I have just spent the last three weeks helping people in a third-world country recover from a tsunami—and they didn't have enough food to feed everyone either. Aid was a complete mess over the fact that there was so little we could do for the emaciated, starving children—said every single one of them reminded him of Mari. "She's a strong femmeling, Ratchet. She'll survive this." I shake my head sadly. It's never easy for a carrier to watch a sparkling fade away. 'She has to…for Aid's sake…for all our sake…' I slip out of the pile of my siblings without waking them—not an easy task when they pile on top of me—and start for the door. "I'm on my way."

"Thank you, Hot Spot… I-I don't know what I'm going to do… She's fading… We don't have enough energon… She doesn't have a Cybertronium deficiency—I made sure of that when we brought her home—but all her mineral levels are way too low. She's severely malnourished—the only reason she's not showing more serious signs in her pretender form is just that—it's a pretender. Normally I'd—" I step in the door and find Ratchet sitting on the exam berth in the main room—one he or Aid will use to recharge when patients need them close by—leaning on his knees and staring intently at the floor. I step over and lay a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up to me, revealing the coolant streaked on his faceplates. "Normally I'd be able to do something—report the parents for neglect, or give the little one something to help them take in nutrients better, but here… Primus, Hot Spot! I can't—I can't watch a sparkling fade because we don't have enough fuel! At least Bumblebee's been eating when we offer human food! Mari won't even eat half the food we offer, and we don't have enough energon, and no minerals—I've gone so far as to put a dose of Cybertronium in her pedialyte to try and give her immune system a boost, but… We're grasping at straws now. If she doesn't start eating soon…we're going to lose her. There's not much else Aid and I can do for her… I can't tell Orion he's going to lose his baby girl…I-I c-can't—" He sobs harshly for a minute before managing to pull himself together. "The kids even know she's fading—after that last virus almost took her from us, I had to tell them… Miko's got it in her head that she's got to make her last days the best days she's ever had—Primus, Spot! We're preparing to celebrate human holidays just because she didn't have very memorable ones in the other dimension—just because Miko wants her to have—t-to h-have—o-one…l-last…C-Christmas…"

I can't believe this much has happened in the three weeks we've been gone—Mari's…dying. "Don't humans have a drink to prevent malnourishment?"

Ratchet tries and fails to disguise a sob as a scoff. "We tried it. She can't drink it."

"Ratchet…"

"We got her some in her favorite flavor—made her drink one last Wednesday. She told us it was too sweet for her after a sip—compared it to some protein drink her human family gave her when she was ten—told a whole story of how a medication for hyperactivity caused her to purge for a week—those afthelms didn't care enough to take her off it, they just lowered the dosage—and made her drink something called Boost." Ratchet sighs sadly. "She tried, so hard, Hot Spot, to keep it down, even though the sweetness made her feel like purging—femmeling chugged at least three glasses of water trying to keep it down for us…"

"But she purged it anyway…"

"All over the couch in the main room. That was a pit of a job to clean up." He laughs—a bitter, emotionless laugh. "I didn't even have the spark to try again—not when she purges her milk half the time!" He shakes his head. "Optimus feels guilty because he made her clean her plate at the restaurant they went to last night, and now she's purging."

I sigh heavily and lay a hand on his knee. "I'll sit with her for a while. You need to take a break."

"I can't… That paperwork's about getting the silver and copper to flavor her energon so she'll actually drink it, and trying to get the government to at least give us some iron to try and supplement her—vitamins for human children don't have enough, and I don't want to risk her fragile state by giving her more than the stated dose!"


Normal POV

I look up from my blankie and doll when I hear footsteps, and smile when I see the light blue legs under the curtain. The curtain is quickly pulled aside to reveal Hot Spot. "Pots!"

He steps over to the rocking chair Ratchet keeps in here for Carrier or Sire. "I heard you were sick again."

I nod. "Puk'd awl ober me." I look down at my doll before reaching up to him with my blankie in my arms. "Wock me?"

Hot Spot steps over and pulls me into his arms before settling into the rocking chair. "Ratch told me you were getting ready to celebrate Christmas?"

"Uh-huh!" I smile. "We buyed wots of decowations, an' I getta has my own twee—I nevew gotta has my own twee befowe!"

"Wow! That's so cool, Mari."

"I gotted Chickmunks ownaments for my twee, an' I gotted fwu'erby icy lights fo' my doo'ways, an' I gotted a twain for twee! I neber, eber haved twain for twee 'fore! Siwe gon' ge' giwnowmus twee fo' main woom, an' we gotted you guys wainbow w'eath fo' you doo'!"


Hot Spot's POV

I shake my head, doing my best not to laugh and cry at the same time. She's dying, and she still has as much energy as I usually do. I've got to calm her down somehow. "What's Christmas about?"

She slips the strawberry pacifier out and cuddles into my armor. "Christmas is a holiday that celebrates Jesus' birth. Most people don' care 'bout Jesus. It's also when Santa brings good boys and girls presents, an' people gives each other gifts too." She nuzzles in closer and yawns. "An' i' so peoples can see famiwy dey no'…getta see much." With that, she drifts off in my arms. I run a finger over the tiny, human-like cheek. "We might not have been around much lately, Little One, but we really do love you…like you were a part of us… Please… You have to fight through this… Little Sister…please…" I use my free hand to wipe away the tears threatening to spill over.


6:30 AM, Normal POV

I shift before opening my eyes. My tummy's starting to feel better, and I'm starting to get hungry. I know I'll have to have something liquid—and human—but I don't really care.

I look up and smile. Hot Spot's sound asleep sitting up, still holding me like he was when I went to sleep.

I turn slightly when I hear the curtain move. "How are you feeling, Mari?"

"Hi Aidie." I point up. "Shhhh. No wakey Spot. He tiwed."

"I won't." He slips the ducky thermometer under my tongue and waits for it to beep. "98.5. Ratchet's going to be happy to hear that your fever broke." He glances to the door before turning back to me. "Think you could drink something for me?" I give him an uncertain look. I don't want anything yucky. "Just a little juice, Mari."

"Like last night?"

"Yep!"

I nod. "'Kay." I blink up at him. "I haves chicky bwoth too?"

Aid and I jump, and Spot jolts awake, at the sound of metal clattering and glass breaking in the doorway, and turn to find Ratchet standing there, the remains of a thankfully empty energon cube, a purple metal baby bottle, and the metal tray he uses to bring me medicine and food when I'm in the med-bay at his feet. "You okay, Ratch?"

Ratchet blinks before bending down to pick up the bottle. "I brought Mari's "juice"." He hands the bottle to Aid before moving to clean up the glass. "Aid, can I see you when you're done here?"

"Of course." He hands me the bottle before following his mentor out.

I lie back in Spot's hand and start drinking my juice, resting my head on his wrist.

"What just happened?"

I pull the bottle out to look up at him. "Ratch droppded a 'gon cube an' his tray on'a floor. Maked a big CWASH!" I smile. "How you sleep?"

"All right. How are you feeling?"

"Better dan I did wast night."

"That's good." He stands and lays me on my personal medical berth before stretching. "I'm going to go check on my brothers and get some energon, okay? I'll come back later today, if you're still in here."

"M'kays."


Hot Spot's POV

I step out and make a beeline for Ratchet and Aid. "What happened back there?"

"Good morning, Spot."

I nod to Aid, too focused on Ratchet—who flat refuses to let Aid see him like I did last night—to respond out loud. ~Morning, Aid. Sorry I snuck off last night.~

~It's fine, Spot. You were here with Mari.~ Aid nods. "I'll go upstairs and get that broth started."

"Broth?"

Ratchet watches Aid leave, waiting until he's out of earshot before turning back to me. "Mari asked for some chicken broth. She hasn't physically asked for something to eat or drink in months, Hot Spot. Months. She just gets her own water, and everything else, we've had to almost force on her. Elita's at the point where she gives Mari anything—even candy—just to get her to eat something."

"Maybe she's homesick, Ratch. Bumblebee was bad when we first got to this planet. Maybe she misses her organic niece and nephew."

"It's not that. She was too desperate to come with us. I doubt she's depressed, because she's been too cheerful, and her PTSD hasn't caused problems that mimic it since before the humans came around." Ratchet sighs. "I'm worried she knows more than we want her to about our situation here. She's as hyper-aware as Streetwise, Spot. It's almost impossible to keep things from her."

"You mean…" I shake my head. "Mari wouldn't starve herself for us…would she? I mean, she was too willing to give her food to others back in the other dimension, but she still ate well enough herself."

Ratchet sighs. "She's too young to have the mental discipline it would take to go completely off something. This isn't planned. Something's making her not want to eat." He glances at something behind me and sighs. "You need to get some energon. You haven't fueled fully in three weeks."

"But—"

"Go. Don't come back until you've had a full cube."


Normal POV

I blink before slipping back into my bed and picking up my rag doll. "They's worried 'cause I jus' no' hungry lots, 'Berry. I hadda force myself to eat sometimes on Old Earth, but I did 'cause I was the only one looking out for me. Now that my tummy's smaller, an' I puke when I ea' too much or forcey myself, I gotta no eats human food. I can' helps dat Unca Megsy takey all da 'gon, an' dat's all I cans ea'." I sigh. "I no wan' 'em worries, bu' dere nofin' I cans do makes dem stop."

"Who are you talking to, Sweetspark?"

I look up to find Ratchet standing in the doorway, and wave my doll. "Talky 'Berry." I watch Ratchet sit beside me. "Wha' you needs?"

He sighs heavily. "How much did you hear?"

"You worry 'bou' me, cause I no eats much."

He nods. "Mari…" He sighs heavily. "I'm only talking to you like this because you were a medic with Aid and I during the war in the other dimension." I nod. "Sweetspark, if you don't start eating more…you won't even live to your sixth vorn."

I blink up at him, a tear rolling down my cheek. "I no wanna weaves Dada…I wan'ned Mama, Dada, Bumbee, Old Earth…" I throw myself into his leg as I start to cry harshly. Ratchet lays a hand on my back. "I no wan' go bye-byes! I no wan' go Well! I wan' stay Dada!"

"I know, Sweetspark… We don't want to lose you either…" The hand on my back moves for a moment, and comes back damp.

"No cwies, Watch!" I stand up and hug him as well as I can in my pretender form. "No cwy fo' me! I's twying! I is! I twying weally hards, bu' my tummy smaller, an' I jus' no' hungy wots… Human foods weiwd now dat I usted to 'gon, an…gwitch no wets me ea'."

"Aid went through something like that, after he was hurt. Scared the crap out of his brothers." He gives me a sad smile. "How 'bout this? You keep trying for us, and I'll do whatever I can to help you out."

"You no gives me you 'gon eider, Watch. You needs dat—we needs you."

"You told her?" The two of us look up to Aid, who's standing in the door with a silver bottle—if you're wondering about the bottles, Ratchet makes me use baby bottles in the med-bay, because sippys leak and I spills normal cups even with lids.

Ratchet sighs. "I had to, Aid. You know how competent she is—sparkling or not…" He looks down. "I had to know…if she was doing it on purpose…" I start reaching for the bottle. I want my broth!

Aid, not noticing my grabby hands, holds it just out of reach. "Is she?" Ratchet shakes his head. "It's her Autism. She's had energon for so long, human food's just too weird for her body to accept completely now."

"Sensory gets her coming and going, doesn't it?" He glances down at me. "Oh!" He hands me the bottle. "Sorry, Sweetspark."

I start drinking it, leaning back against Ratchet's leg. "If she can keep that down, I'll let her go back to her room."

"Good thing we got her bathroom cleaned up last night."

I sit up at the sound of Sire's voice. "Daddy!" I shift to bot form and ditch the bottle to reach up to him. "Up! Up! Uppy!"

He picks me up before sitting in the rocker. Ratchet hands me the ditched bottle. "You have to drink this, Sweetspark."

I take it, but look up at Sire. "I no wanna weaves you, Dada… Wuvs you."

Sire looks down at me. "I don't want to lose my little princess either." He looks up to Ratchet. "She knows…"

Ratchet nods. "If she's competent enough to be a field medic, she's competent enough to know what's going on." He sighs. "I'll let her go with you, so long as she rests today. No decorating."

"Aww. But Ratch!"

"No. Tomorrow, you can decorate. Today, I want you to rest. Orion…" Sire gives Ratchet a confused look. "I'm going to have Agent Fowler give us the months' grocery budget when he comes by this afternoon for the paperwork about Mari. Day after tomorrow, I'm taking her out, and we're going to try to find things she'll be able to eat—even if it's only one thing, it's better than her practically starving because of our energon shortage."

"She did all right with the turkey at the restaurant yesterday."


Third POV

Optimus sighs heavily as he adjusts the now-recharging, sickly princess in his arms. "Have you found out why she refuses human food, even in her pretender mode?"

"I'll keep that in mind." Ratchet nods. "It's her "glitch", as she calls it now."

Optimus buries his face in his free hand. "Ratchet, I can't… If this is my fault…"

"Come on, Orion." Ratchet sighs. "Just because you have a milder form of Prowl's…problem…it doesn't mean it's your fault. Mari's systems are so used to energon, they're refusing all but small amounts of human food, which wouldn't be a problem in ideal circumstances, but—"

"My brother is trying to kill my daughter."

"Which I am attempting to prevent." Ratchet sighs heavily. "We're at the beginning of yet another war, Optimus, but this one is worth far more than our home, and will be far harder than taking on your brother will ever be."

"The fight for survival usually is." Optimus stands with the femmeling cradled in his arms, wrapped in the strawberry print fleece blanket from the night before. "Could you get the bucket from last night, and her blanket and doll?"

"Of course."