Chapter 4
"OPTIMUS!" I yelled, unable to take the pain.
"I'm here." He told me reassuringly, holding me tightly, "SIDESWIPE!"
His yell brought the other Autobots running. I was only vaguely aware of them swarming around us as I clung tightly to Optimus, the pain from my leg flooding my processors.
"We need to get her downstairs." I heard Sideswipe saying.
"Bumblebee, get that thing down to the engine room and let it burn." Optimus ordered, his tone angry, nodding to the head on the floor as he picked me up.
"Jeez." Sideswipe said when I was on his slab and he was able to look at my leg properly. "What happened?"
"I don't know." I snapped from where I was clutching tightly to Optimus. "I think it bit me."
"Looks more like your leg's been injected with acid." Sideswipe commented. "Right. I'm gonna need Ratchet for this. Can someone go and get him please?"
Ironhide left, and the other Autobots crowded round.
"All right, everyone back off." Sideswipe ordered, swatting at them. "Give us some space."
I rested my forehead against Optimus' neck, hoping he wouldn't go, but he made no move to leave me.
The other Autobots backed off as Ironhide came back in, followed by Ratchet and, to my annoyance, Sentinel.
Ironhide and Sentinel hung back while Ratchet went to join Sideswipe.
"Right." He said slowly, "Sideswipe, you try and stop that from spreading while I make an antidote for it."
It was about half an hour later that the pain finally started fading. I don't know what the two medics were doing for all that time, since my face was buried in Optimus' chest the whole time, but it hurt. A lot.
I was glad I couldn't see what was left of my leg. The squeamish looks on everybody else's faces were enough to tell me how bad it was.
When they'd finally finished with the antidote, my leg had stopped ripping itself apart, and the pain was finally fading, Ratchet and Sideswipe decided I hadn't been through enough pain yet, and jabbed an injection right into the open wound.
Since the injection's whole purpose was to grow back all the metal that had been eaten away by the acid, it didn't stop the pain there either. Regrowing things hurts even more than growing them in the first place.
After another half an hour Ratchet decided my leg was healed enough that I wouldn't cause any more damage to it if I were allowed to go to bed, and finally RECHARGE. Still, he got Optimus to take me.
Optimus picked me up carefully and carried me to my room, Digger following happily at his heels. The door to my room still hadn't been repaired. The room was dark, but the curtains hadn't been drawn. The moonlight was filtered through the window, landing on my bed. Optimus laid me onto my bed gently and sat down next to me. The blankets were cold beneath me.
"Are you all right?" He asked me quietly, stroking my cheek.
"Better." I replied.
He bent down and kissed my forehead.
"Sentinel wants to talk to me." He whispered, "I'll be back."
He crouched down and muttered something I didn't hear to the dog, and then he was gone.
As soon as he'd disappeared Digger jumped up onto my bed and snuggled up to me. I stroked him absently as I listened to the other Autobots wandering around, talking. The sound was soothing. I'd always liked to hear people talking whenever I went to bed early. It helped me to remember that I wasn't alone. There were people I could go to if something happened. If I needed them. If I got lonely. It was comforting. I hated the silence.
Under any other circumstances, just knowing that they were around would have helped me drift off to sleep, but tonight was different. It was the pain in my leg that was keeping me awake, as it continued to repair itself.
After about five minutes I gave up, and just lay there listening to what was going on outside my room.
I sat up as I heard Optimus leading Sentinel and Ratchet upstairs to the teleport, and got out of bed, creeping to the door. My leg was almost completely healed now, but still aching badly, so I walked with a slight limp.
I watched the three disappear upstairs. The rest of the corridor was deserted. I limped over to his door. It was open, so I just went in.
He'd cleaned up all the mess he'd made after I'd stabbed myself. The bookshelves were back up, tall and proud. The curtains were drawn, the only light coming from a lamp on the table next to Optimus' bed.
Optimus' bed smelled like him. I lay down on it and hugged his pillow to my chest, comforted by his scent, my optics shut tightly against the light from his lamp.