1) I totally asked that question wrong at the end of the page. "Old programming offlining difficulties" translates into "old habits die hard." Looking back, though, I phrased my question very ill.

2) This is primarily a follow-up to last chapter because I felt that Tex's cheer injury would be too severe to be swept away.

3) Sorry for the lateness. I've been working on an Ironhide ficlet with a sparkling Optimus. You guys are gonna love it. So much fluff. X3 Wait in anticipation.

8. All That I Have

2,297 words

I first became aware of the weak pounding in my brain the following morning. It throbbed just behind my right eye at an even pace with my heart, and I knew without a doubt what had caused it. Suddenly, my morning became even grimmer than usual. I groaned lowly as I opened my eyes, wondering idly why Optimus wasn't ordering me to wake up. Where was my living alarm clock?

I pushed myself up on my arms, concern flowing through me at the thought of what might have happened to my Personal, but a glance around my room proved him to be perfectly fine. At the moment, he was seated on my floor, reading another one of my spiral-bound stories. Then why didn't he wake me up? I grimaced as I reached for my phone on my night stand. Something wasn't right here. I knew for a fact it wasn't Saturday, so mom or Optimus should have woken me up. Maybe I just woke up early? I pressed the power button on my phone and felt my heart stop.

It was 9:17 am. I was currently an hour and seventeen minutes late to school.

"Good morning, Private," Optimus called from his spot, finally looking up to optic-smile at me. I stared at him in slack-jawed horror.

"You didn't wake me up!" I cried as I rolled from my bed, tossing my covers off me as I stumbled to my feet. The world spun, and I threw my arms out as the dim light coming through my curtains seemed to fade in and out. I was vaguely aware of Optimus hurrying to my side and jolted a little when I felt little hands on my left calf.

"Private, your physician has suggested you take a day off just in case you received a concussion, and based on my observations of your condition over the past few moments, I am led to believe that you did receive one," Optimus informed me. I blinked rapidly as I fought off the coming blackness while processing Optimus' words. I frowned.

"When did my mother talk to my doctor?" I questioned. This gained a frown from Optimus.

"This morning. You woke up feeling ill. You're mother checked your injury and contacted your physician. You have an appointment for noon sharp," Optimus informed me. I looked down at him, my brain slowly decoding his words, then I nodded in understanding.

"Okay," I stated. Sweet. I got the day off. I looked over at my computer with a grin, thinking about how much progress I could get done on my stories with a whole day to myself. I might be able to get two chapters done in one day! The very thought made me extremely happy, and my mind was already slowly going over the plot twists I wanted to implement. Then I tried to move in that direction. Once again, the world blurred around me, and I groaned as I slid to the ground. Okay, so moving apparently wasn't an option.

"Private? Private, what is your status?" Optimus questioned as he hurried over to where I was hunched over. I only groaned again, trying to will my dizziness and the pounding headache away. I was sitting on my knees, my bottom on the ground between my feet, and my hands supported my weight, arms locked. Optimus stood just in front of me, crouched down so that he could peer up at my face. "Tex, perhaps it would be wise for you to stay in your bed."

I nodded my head miserably and crawled slowly back to my bed. I crawled under the covers and covered my head with the blankets, hating Anna for hitting me and coach for putting a front-base in my hands. I felt an extra weight shift onto the bed. I pulled the covers down just enough that I could see Optimus carefully navigating my bed, a huge spiral being dragged behind him. He walked up the bed until he stood beside my right arm, and I shifted back and onto my right side to face him as he dropped the spiral down. I curled my arm under the pillow and kept my eyes on Optimus as he sat down beside me.

"I have barely started on this spiral, and I can tell that it will be another story about a sparkling. You write a lot of those," he noted as he opened the spiral that was almost as tall as he was. I took in his question then nodded.

"I deal with kids a lot," I responded.

"You will not be attending work today. Rest, and I will wake you when it is time for you to get dressed," Optimus informed me. I gave a short exhale, then closed my eyes.

Optimus watched his human closely as she slowly drifted offline. Yesterday had been long; no, even that was an understatement. He hadn't been joking when he had informed Tex that he would worry for her safety in his absence, and apparently, that worry was for good reason. Not only had she come home scraped and bleeding, but she had a bruise and a knot the size of a golf ball on her eye. His spark had nearly stopped at the sight of her.

There was no denying that Optimus was overprotective. He had been that way with his soldiers, trying to keep them safe as much as physically possible. He had been that way with his friends and his Elita. Now, he was that way with his human, Private Tex. She was a bit of a mystery to him, a femme who changed her personality around specific people easily, as if she had been doing so for a long time. Ironically enough, she actually reminded him rather acutely of his first lieutenant, Jazz, in that sense.

When Jazz first joined the Autobots, he had been a stony-faced mech, his visor hiding cold optics and his mouth set in a perpetual scowl. His home had been destroyed, and the only reason he was with the Autobots was for revenge; he didn't feel the need to make friends. However, as the war waged with no end in sight, Jazz began to feel lonely. Unfortunately, he had pushed others away for so long, he forgot how he was supposed to act around people; he forgot how to make friends. So, as a special ops mech, he did what came naturally to him: he started acting. He observed what made other mechs comfortable, and he started pretending once he was transferred to another unit — Optimus' unit, to be specific. It was why he got along so well with everyone. He could talk guns with Ironhide, pretend to be irritated with the twins when speaking to Ratchet, and talk appearances and wax jobs with Tracks. He got along with the minibots and the dinobots, once they were created. He got along with every human, even the annoying ones, and he was able to make the Decepticons believe he was one of them when he went undercover.

With every new bot came a new personality, and it had amazed Optimus when he first experienced Jazz suddenly changing personalities. Optimus could still remember the cycle, too. He had gone to the rec room for some fresh energon after a long cycle. The cube he had still on his desk had gone brown long ago, and he had forgotten that he should refuel before his next appointment with Ratchet over his recently reattached leg. Jazz had been in the rec room, gazing darkly at the energon in his hand, his expression almost broody. Optimus hadn't ever seen such an expression on Jazz's face and had immediately moved in his subordinate's direction, concerned for the mech he had grown to see as a friend. Optimus had only taken two steps in the mech's direction when Jazz's head snapped up, and his blue optics locked on Optimus. The Autobot commander stared in fascination as Jazz changed before his very optics. That broody glare became a friendly beam, the deep scowl became an easy smile, and his tense body loosened to a laid-back slouch.

"Ey, Prime. Wha'cha doin' out 'ere with us common folk?" Jazz asked brightly.

From that moment on, Optimus had taken great care to watch his third-in-command to see if this behavior persisted, and he found that whenever Jazz thought himself to be alone, he drew back into that broody persona that Optimus had never thought he'd see. He looked angry, hurt, and… lonely. Of course, he only saw this Jazz a few times. It didn't take long for the special ops mech to catch on. He was the best at what he did, and he could easily sense Optimus with or without the Matrix covering his spark signature. He only needed to turn his audio receptors up a little bit to pick up Optimus' nearly-silent footsteps.

Tex reminded him of Jazz in the same way. It was something he first noticed when he went to school with her, then continued to observe afterwards. She was overly peppy at school around the females on her "cheer squad" and the males on the "football team." She was sharp and witty to her personal friends, giving short one-liners instead of the grinning teases she gave her cheer friends. At home, however, she was subdued. She didn't really speak much with her mother or brother, giving words mostly in passing. Her father could bring out an honest, cheerful Tex, but he worked second shift, which meant that he was asleep when Tex went to school and at work by the time she got home.

He easily gathered that this was why she bought him: she was lonely. Her friends lived on the other side of town, a fifteen minute drive that could easily stretch into an hour walk, and she had no car. At home, she stayed in her room, typing on her stories and avoiding a family that she believed didn't care for her, the single exception being her father. Her brother stayed in his own room next door to her, playing video games and chatting with his fiancée over the phone, and her mother remained downstairs, reading the romance books that filled the many bookcases. She had a chemical imbalance of some kind, but Optimus felt that it was not his place to inform her. She was his owner's carrier. He had no right to comment on her habits or bodily imbalances.

Optimus huffed a little as he went back to his reading, only partially paying attention to the pages in front of him. His optics dimmed a little as he glanced at his sleeping charge. Despite the sad memories he kept with him of times passed, he found that he didn't truly mind his situation. It was painful—truly excruciating—to know that he would never see his love again, but he could have been dealt much worse. He could have woken up on Cybertron to Elita's dead body, or he could have been bought by a cruel owner. Instead, he had imprinted on this sad creature who needed him so desperately, and he found… he rather liked the idea of her needing him so much.

Even on Cybertron, he had felt that he was more of a figurehead than anything else. Yes, his army needed him to okay large-scale attacks and to fight against Megatron, but… it always seemed like he, himself, was superfluous. Prowl did all of the strategizing. Jazz did all the behind-the-scenes stuff and kept up morale. Ironhide kept weapons up-to-date. Red Alert kept security up-to-date, and the frontliner twins could probably take down Megatron if Optimus would get out of the way. Really, all Optimus did was paperwork. He dealt with dignitaries, but Ratchet could technically do that. He couldn't explain it… this feeling that if he suddenly died, nothing would truly change. Yes, his troops would mourn him, but… someone else would be accepted by the Matrix of Leadership, and he would become a legend simply because he was charismatic. He wondered if his officers, the ones who truly did all the work, would get such accolades once they passed to the Well.

With Tex, though, it was different. She had all these friends, yet she still felt she needed him. When she came home injured, it wasn't Ratchet she was asking for; it was him that she came to. When she felt the need to speak about her friend that had betrayed her, it hadn't been Jazz that listened; it had been him. When she needed assistance with her math homework, it hadn't been Prowl she sought out; it had been Optimus. And even though none of these other bots existed in a way that she could contact them… he still felt special, and for some reason, he knew that he would still be her favorite when these other Autobots came out, something that made him feel special. He hadn't felt this way since Alpha Trion had awarded him the Matrix of Leadership after Megatron's attacks on the docks. Tex's trust in him made him feel important.

And he would make sure that trust was not abused. He would make sure his ward never felt alone when he was around. He would defend her against those that meant to cause her pain, and he would protect her from her own insecurities. He wasn't sure yet how exactly he would do these things, but he would find a way. Tex was all that he had now, and he refused to let her hurt anymore. She was his ward, and he would protect her as long as he could. He was Optimus Prime, and primes protected their own.

Miko873: Thanks! Glad to entertain!

Autobot Phoenix: I think a lot of people have become that way. Gotta protect yourself first, right? Can't do that if you bring a traitor back into your midst.

Sora Metasuki: XD I have so much fun measuring how big something would be to little Optimus. I carry around a fabric tape measure just to make sure everything is accurate. Confuses my mom and amuses my dad. XD

Leonixon: I can't do that. Playing with emotions is what I do best. :\ Maybe next time?

Killia the Cosmic: Eh heh, enough to be embarrassed if Optimus did read some of my Jazz fics.

Esperanza Hyde the Vamp Queen: Yeah. Catty girls are never fun to deal with, but she has an Optimus and her own thinking skills to help her with the backstabber. Once again, though, revenge doesn't help anything. It's best to just cut ties with whomever lied about you rather than destroy their reputation like I used to. What Megan did was unforgiveable, but what Elizabeth did in retaliation was no less unforgivable.

A Wiccan: 0.0 Well, we can safely say this G&G isn't like that one. You know, I was talking to one of my FF friends, and I was telling her that I wish I knew html, cuz I would create a FF website that's invite only to keep away n00bs and Sue writers. Too many little kids on this site now, and all the really, really good writers are either leaving or getting ready to leave. It's kinda sad. :(

Cheerleading was my sport, too. We were pretty intense, too. Got kicked, kneed, scratched, punched… still had to get back up. Takes a lickin', keeps on tickin'. No bruises or sprains kept us from our sport. XD We were pretty intense. And I totally agree. A good cry is soothing sometimes. I just can't cry in front of anyone else. I wait until the house is empty. Stupid pride.

Chistarpax: I didn't phrase that question well enough. I mean, I was half-asleep at the time, but still XD I agree. I would have difficulty letting Prime read my stuff, and you'll see Tex's embarrassment in a few chapters when Optimus gets ahold of a twins/OC story she wrote. Wow, I make him sound like an unruly dog. XD

SunnySides: Nope, you're review didn't get lost. I dunno why some people couldn't read it… You're review was actually why I didn't know that my story wouldn't load for some. It took some one PMing me for me to know, but it apparently still came up in the "most recent" page.

So, private school for you or homeschool? I got quite a few friends that homeschool. Seems like it would be harder than actual school, but more relaxed, no?

I used to like Bayverse. Then he put out this last movie, made it way darker than the rest, and decided to kill my favorite Autobot. Now, only Optimus lives on as my favorite in Bayverse (seeing as he butchered Drift's personality). I am not happy with Bay.

Bluefeather4299: Thank you! I'm certainly having an interesting time comparing items to Optimus' new height. Poor guy's in over his little head. XD

Little Optimus Prime's overprotectiveness is adorable. For some reason, I could totally see Optimus being all gloomy as the war went on, and I could picture him getting all overprotective like this. After all, it's Megatron's goal to destroy everything Optimus holds dear, so he has to protect his people. It kinda makes me wish I could introduce a Megatron Personal. Could so see little Optimus flipping out. X3 Sorry that the chapter was so short. I started another chapter, then, as I said, I decided the injury needed a bit of closure. After this, the story will start skipping around. I've got a lot of ground to cover in the next ninety chapters. *nod nod* I hope y'all liked it.