Atonement
Chapter 4—Don't Stay
The ride back with Springer in Optimus' trailer was a silent one. Less pleasant was depositing Springer back in the med bay, but only Optimus' presence kept Ratchet from becoming completely unhinged. And of course, the medic had thrown them out, telling him he'd call later. No getting around Ratchet's wrath, and he'd added the sparkling's survival was anyone's guess before he'd removed them from his domain.
Now, Hot Rod was in his quarters, thinking, while Optimus paced. Throttling Springer wouldn't solve a damn thing. Maybe make him feel better, but it would deprive Prowl of the chance to do it himself. Springer endangered himself and his sparkling. Hot Rod was beyond angry. Didn't Springer trust him? His friend was distraught, and Optimus, well, the older Prime, the less said, the better. Hot Rod's rant in front of the other Prime, while nothing compared to Optimus' fury, summed up both of their feelings on the matter. The first sparkling born post-war, and not under the best of circumstances.
Optimus furious—a sight to behold, and not something Hot Rod wanted to witness again soon. A sign of trust, or Optimus didn't care who saw him that angry. Hot Rod hoped it was trust. Optimus Prime didn't let down his barriers, ever, no matter how Hot Rod tried to breach them. He was wise enough to recognize a lost cause when he saw it. Having the other Prime around was a constant remind he'd never have what he truly wanted. Optimus' presence in Autobot City was one thing, but having him in his quarters. . .Primus.
"Shouldn't you be heading back to Cybertron?" Hot Rod asked.
Optimus stopped pacing, coming to a stop in front of Hot Rod. "I think, considering the circumstances, it's best if I stick around, don't you?"
"Jazz and I can handle things here," Hot Rod said.
"I thought. . ."
"What?" Hot Rod said, getting annoyed.
"Never mind," Optimus said. "I've decided I'm staying for a few days."
"Won't they need you on Cybertron?"
"Magnus has things well in hand, and Galvatron and he can take care of things in my stead. That was the point in making Galvatron Lord High Protector," Optimus said.
"A stupid decision if you ask me," Hot Rod said.
Optimus' optics narrowed, and Hot Rod glared back.
"It's nice to know much my opinion counts," Hot Rod said. "I'm a Prime, supposedly your co-Prime."
Optimus moved closer to the other mech, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Your opinion counts, but that was a decision mine alone to make. I know your feelings about Galvatron, and believe me, if he steps out of line, he will be dealt with swiftly."
"Whatever," Hot Rod muttered, twisting out of Optimus' grip.
"What's gotten into you?" Optimus asked.
"Gee, I don't know—my best friend didn't trust me enough to tell me he was seeing someone, and it was fairly serious from the looks of it," Hot Rod said. "My CMO is on the warpath, and I get to deal with it all by myself."
"Why do you think I'm staying?" Optimus said, crossing his arms. "Prowl is emotionally compromised, and he's in no condition to be running things around here, at least until he and Springer get something sorted out. Remind me to relieve him of duty first thing in the morning."
Hot Rod sighed, balling his fist, counting backward from 10. He was not going to belt Optimus.
"You should learn better control over your energy field," Optimus said. "I'm certain everyone down the corridor can feel your distress."
"Leave," Hot Rod said.
Optimus frowned, but he did as he was asked. Further agitating Hot Rod in his current mood was a bad idea. Once out in the corridor, Optimus leaned his head against the wall, venting air in a sigh. What in the Pit had he done to earn Hot Rod's anger this time? Sometimes, they shared an easy camaraderie. Rare moments he treasured, but they just couldn't find any even ground. He was co-Prime, mentor, friend, but there was awkwardness to their relationship neither would acknowledge.
He was lonely, and sometimes he wondered if Hot Rod was seeing anyone. A talk with Jazz earlier that day revealed the young Prime wasn't seeing anyone, and more often than not, worked himself to the brink of exhaustion. Jazz called it "Prowl lite." That was so unlike the Hot Rod Optimus remembered, but sometimes, the younger mech did show some of the bravado he once had. The aftermath of the Hate Plague had been a traumatic time for the young Prime, and Optimus was glad the depression and sadness were long gone. (Or so he thought.) Hot Rod had questioned his self-worth upon his return, and wondered if there was still a place for him among the Autobots. It had taken time, but Optimus, Kup, Springer and others had finally gotten through to Hot Rod. And at one time, during those dark days, Optimus would have gladly showed him how much he meant to him. His fire and fighting spirit Optimus admired, and they'd renewed his hope.
Except now, he wanted to throttle the other mech. Or shove him against a wall and show him how he felt. Not appropriate at all, and it would get him shot. Optimus didn't want to have to explain that to Ratchet. Primus. What was wrong with him? Prowl, one of his closest friends, was hurting, and he was having an internal dialogue about his lack of love life. Prowl was something he could sort out, a concrete problem he could deal with, at least in the line of duty. Personally, it was going to be a mess, and he would do what he could in both capacities. On that thought, he made for his quarters. He'd sleep on it.
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Ratchet watched Springer as he fed his daughter. A few clumsy attempts at getting his energon lines to do what he wanted, and getting the little femme to do what she needed took effort and patience on both their parts. Her vitals were more stable, and that reassured the medic that maybe she'd make it after all. Watching it all was Prowl, who offered encouragement to Springer and the sparkling. That reminded the medic he needed to online Prowl's feeding protocols. The sparkling needed one caregiver she could rely on, and it was probably going to be Prowl, given the circumstances. Maybe he was wrong, but he wouldn't bet good credits on it. He watched, satisfied as Springer retracted his energon line back into his wrist without spewing fuel everywhere, and smiled when the triple changer jumped when the sparkling emitted a weak but satisfied chirp.
"That's a good sign," Ratchet said. "Her vitals are stronger, and that's the first time she's vocalized since emergence. You did a good job, Springer."
He clapped the green mech on the shoulder. Positive reinforcement and encouragement were needed. He was not going to offline Springer with a wrench to the head. Best to change the subject to something manageable.
"Have you two come up with a name yet?" the medic asked.
"Prowl picked it out. He can tell you," Springer said.
Prowl stood, coming over, taking his daughter out of Springer's arms. "Her name is Echo," he said.
"Short and sweet," Ratchet said. "It should suit her."
"Ratchet, you're talking like you believe she's going to be fine," Prowl said.
"Don't you?" Ratchet asked. "She needs you two, your love and support more than anything I can give her. Hold her, talk to her, feed her, and she should pull through. Echo isn't the first premature sparkling I've dealt with. I wasn't always just a battlefield medic, you know. You two need to move past the idea that she might not survive and on to the reality of the fact you're now parents. You've created a life together. I don't care if you two can't stand each other, and aren't together anymore, but for now, for her sake, you are. She needs you both. Deal with it, or I will."
Ratchet left them alone, walking into his office. He didn't see the glance that passed between Springer and Prowl.
"How serious do you think he is?" Prowl asked.
"Were you even listening?" Springer said. "Your glitch acting up, or are you deaf?"
"I asked a serious question," Prowl said.
"I gave you a serious answer, aft-head," Springer said. "That was not a threat. How's that for serious?"
"Is everything a joke to you?" Prowl asked.
"No," Springer said. "I'll stick this out long enough to make sure she's OK, then I'm done."
"I can deal with the fact you don't want me," Prowl said. "But you don't want your own child?"
Springer's face hardened. "Now is not the time to have this discussion," he said.
"When is then?" Prowl said.
"Fine. Bottom line is, Prowl, we messed up, and now this sparkling is going to pay for it. Maybe we never should have ended it, and we wouldn't be in this situation," Springer said.
"Meaning we would not have produced a sparkling," Prowl said.
"No, that's not what I meant," Springer said. "Look, I'm exhausted, and we're both on the verge of saying things I hope we'll both regret. Echo needs to rest, and so do we. This is not going to be an easy road. Primus Prowl, let things be for now. Please."
"I'm sorry," Prowl said, reaching over, placing a hand on Springer's shoulder. "You're right. I should've listened to you all those months ago. . ."
"Apology for tonight accepted," Springer said. "Forgiving you is going to take more time than that."
Prowl let the last slide, setting Echo back down into her berth. He pulled up a chair, taking seat between the sparkling and Springer's own berth.
"I know now we were both wrong," Prowl said softly, looking over at Springer, hoping the other mech heard, but he was already in recharge.