Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed this fic! Between 14 hours of driving yesterday and a migraine today, I haven't been up to responding to reviews, and I really wanted this post to go up two days ago. Please know that we all read and enjoy your comments our fics. Reviews are love from readers, and chapters are love from writers!

A week after the Autobots went public, I overheard Daemon in the living room talking to Mikaela after school. "Hey Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Does it mean something bad when somebody says 'blood is thicker than water?'"

I heard her let out a long, slow sigh. "Not usually. Why?"

"One of the sixth graders said it to me at recess today, but I didn't know what it meant."

"My own dad said it to me once, too," she confided, sounding wistful. More matter-of-factly, she added, "It's kind of a funny phrase. A long time ago when people first started saying it, it meant that some ties that bind people together, things like sacred vows or promises, were so important that they were even more important than family. But that was hundreds of years ago, and the meaning has changed over time. Now it usually means the exact opposite, that family is more important than anything else. How do you think the sixth-grader meant it?"

"I don't know. He was being mean about Dad, saying he's a traitor, and then he said 'blood is thicker than water.' So that's why I wondered."

I almost spoke up then, but Mikaela beat me to it. "Daemon, I want you to listen and listen well. The way he meant it was that humans should stick with humans and not help the aliens. But that way of thinking has hurt humanity for a very long time, because people also thought it meant that white people should only stick with white people or that people from different religions shouldn't get married or even be friends. You see why that can be bad?"

After a couple of heartbeats, he answered, "Yeah."

Mikaela continued, "You are my son – my own flesh and blood – but my only connection to your dad is the vow we made to each other when we got married. Both are precious to me. Both ways of seeing the world have good and bad in them."

"So…the sixth-grader was trying to be mean and failed?"

She half-laughed. "You could say that. Sometimes doing the right thing is even more important than family. And sometimes, sticking with your family is the more-right thing than anything else. And these aliens, they're not like aliens in the movies. The ones your dad is helping are just people in need who look different from us. Doing the right thing means helping them, even if some stupid sixth-grader was told that shared genetics is more important. Does that make sense?"

"I think so?"

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Good. But feel free to ask if you have any more questions."

…

Tracks asked to speak with me privately. Bumblebee didn't trust me riding with anybody except RaFly (and only then if he was also tagging along), so we ended up going to the roof. His holoform sat on the hood of his alt-form, and I pulled up a patio chair so we could talk. "Okay, go ahead."

"I'm putting in a request in the morning to be reassigned," he said. "I'm not suited to being a guardian. I can do more good on New Archon."

I let out a slow sigh. I remembered being Annabelle's age, and I knew she'd see this as a personal failure. If he wasn't up to being a guardian, though…

"I just thought you should hear it from me first."

I blinked as I thought about that – as I remembered trying to leave 'Bee after high school when I went to college – and met his gaze. "Shouldn't Annabelle be the one to hear it from you first?"

He grimaced and looked down.

"What's going on between you two?" I asked. "What happened that things went south so badly?"

Tracks looked puzzled. "We haven't driven any farther south than Virginia."

I shook my head and tried again, "I mean, why is your guardianship falling apart?" Guardian-and-ward was a really intense relationship, but she'd started as an adult and was a pretty easy person to get along with.

He looked down again and was silent.

"If she was out of line at all – "

"I had a sister," Tracks interrupted.

"A sister?" I repeated, surprised.

"It happens, but it's rare," he softly said. "There were fourteen of us brothers – my parents kept creating offspring until the All Spark granted them a daughter."

"So she was special," I said, feeling the weight of what must be coming.

"Yes." He lifted his gaze. "She was special like Annabelle is special. Her name was Beryl."

He looked down again and didn't say anything more.

I wanted him to keep going and tell me the rest of the story, but after a few seconds, I realized he wasn't going to. His use of the past tense ultimately told me all I needed to know, though.

As gently as I could, I said, "It hurts to be Annabelle's guardian?"

Still he didn't say anything.

"Would you like me to explain to her – "

"No."

And something bone-deep in me whispered to just shut up and listen. So I waited.

So softly that I had to lean a little closer to hear, he said, "We were from one of the lower-level commerce clans, and my parents weren't happy with Megatron. The Decepticons imprisoned us and…made an example of her. She…lingered for the equivalent of a month before her spark gave out."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Again, we sat in silence for a long moment before he quietly went on. "The Autobots staged a prison break a few orns later. My parents sided with them and our clan fought the Decepticons in her name until I was the last one left."

He finally looked up and held my gaze. "She wasn't worth it. My parents swore revenge over her crumpled frame, and she said she wasn't worth it. Beryl wanted us to live."

I sat there, stunned, until he looked down again and said, "So that's what I've tried to do: live. Survive. First and foremost, survive. Live it up when I can for as long as I can and honor her dying wish. But the Decepticons tortured my little sister to death and the clan took an oath of revenge, so killing 'cons every chance I get is another obligation I'm bound to."

I thought of Daemon and Beatrice, and what I might feel or do in the place of Tracks' parents. It made me swallow hard against the lump in my throat and blink back tears. "Couldn't you just walk away from seeking revenge, since that's what Beryl wanted?"

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "It was an oath – a sacred vow."

I remembered the oath affirmation experience, but I couldn't imagine Primus approving an oath of revenge in quite the same way.

Shrugging slightly, he continued, "I thought college life in the big city would be the perfect assignment – living it up away from the War – but seeing Annabelle break down…" He paused again and slowly shook his head. "I'm not strong enough. I'm sorry, Prime."

Heartbroken, I rested a hand on his holoform's shoulder. "Don't apologize."

Again the silence stretched long and he finally said, "I didn't think about telling Annabelle I was giving up."

"She tried to resign, too," I told him. "Back in November, she said she wasn't strong enough for Team Prime."

He looked up again, his expression somehow even more tormented than before. "She said that?"

"Yes."

"But she's still here."

"I told her I didn't need a warrior or a strategist, I needed her." Like the bone-deep intuition to be quiet, another thought resonated through me. Tilting my head, I added, "And I'm beginning to think you might need her, too."

"And if I fail to protect her like my brothers and I failed Beryl? If that failure becomes the catalyst for even more death like it did for my clan?"

I slowly sighed. "This is different. The goal is to protect, not avenge. And besides, every guardianship ends sooner or later. We're squishies."

Blinking, he thoughtfully turned his head to the side.

"No one would blame you," I said, to be clear.

He sighed and looked down again.

"Give it a month," I said. "Ask 'Bee how to be a good guardian for a young-adult human. Try it and see – and don't lock your spark away this time. If you still feel the same way, I'll accept your request for a transfer without question."

Hunching lower, he said, "She can't replace Beryl. Nothing can."

"I know," I answered. "You're right about that. But Beryl wanted you to live, right? And part of living – really living – is loving."

He snorted, and I said, "I know, 'love' is such a squishy word, but that just means it fits in this context no matter how you mean it. Whether you love dancing or Annabelle or the taste of energon, it fits."

Nodding but not lifting his head, he said, "I'll give you both one more month."

…

The Autobots were a little over halfway relocated to New Archon when we got word from Shockwave that the Solar Harvester was done. In my dreams that night, the entire clan was gathered together again.

Maybe for the last time, a traitorous part of my mind whispered as I joined them. I shoved the thought aside.

"I'll be leaving for Washington D.C. in about eighteen hours," Optimus said. "After that, we are in Fate's orbit."

"I'll be ready for you," I somberly promised him.

"Are we grieving again?" Beatus asked. "It feels like we're grieving."

"Sorta," Bumblebee answered. "Even assuming Optimus comes home safe and sound, we'll miss him while he's gone."

"Can we grieve together?" the sparkling asked.

Optimus' affection swelled across our web of bonds. "That is a good idea, young one."

Beatus looked up at me. "I think you're the most scared."

I snorted at his childlike blunt honesty, but if it meant having the clan's help in holding myself together, I wasn't about to object. "Probably."

Again he took my hands, and again the warmth and kindness of six powerful, compassionate beings enveloped me. I closed my eyes and surrendered to them. While I was a focal point of sorts, the comfort wasn't a one-way street this time. It washed over and through and back to each of us, circulating the whole experience.

Our grieving was more bittersweet this time, especially from Ironhide, but there was a reassurance in it still. Bit by bit, we chipped away at each others' layers of worry, fear, and even despair. Overflowing to fill the resulting void was an unspoken promise that we would still be there for each other, no matter what happened next. None of us would be left alone for however long or short Optimus might be gone.

That promise took root and grew, swelling and reverberating across the bonds. It didn't crescendo like that one time the All Spark affirmed Optimus' words, but it left me so grounded that I half expected (in the way of dreams) to find myself physically rooted when the time came to open my eyes.

I kept them tightly closed until my cell phone's alarm woke me up.

…

Optimus was taking the same route here as an ICBM – fly into space, switch to cometary form, and then whiz around the globe to make reentry over the Atlantic. It was as dark as D.C. gets when Optimus was close enough for me to hear his thoughts again. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes.

I'll be waiting on the roof, I assured him.

My expression must have given something away, because Mikaela squeezed my hand reassuringly. We'd been cuddled up on the couch ever since the kids went to bed, but I'd been too unsettled to watch a movie or anything. I just needed the comfort of her touch. For the first time in my life, I was dreading Optimus' arrival.

"You sure about this?" Mikaela asked.

"Really no," I answered.

"What about the Star Saber?" she said, hope in her eyes. "Couldn't he use it to protect himself?"

"He wouldn't, even if he could," I answered, rising to my feet. "But the Matrix is physically part of the Star Saber. He can't replenish the All Spark and assemble the Star Saber at the same time." I half-smiled, "Thanks for watching out for him, though." Then I headed up the stairs.

On the roof, I watched with muted admiration as Optimus glided in, not even needing thrusters to stick the landing. It wasn't exactly 'stealth mode' but it was the closest a thirty-foot tall, red-and-blue alien robot could get. Not that we really needed it anymore, now that we'd gone public.

Without a word, he retrieved the Matrix from his frame and held it out to me.

I slowly blew out a breath, remembering again those disgusting, deathly sensations and dreading what Optimus was about to do.

"No sacrifice, no victory," he gently said. "This is what must be done."

"Just be the knife," I said, mostly to myself. Still, I hesitated. Would I do this? Could I do this? Especially to him?

Wrapping me up in his affection and peace, he said, "The spark of every living Cybertronian depends on it."

They were all depending on me to not make the same choice as Unicron and The Fallen. They were depending on me to fulfill the role of destroyer but in the right way. They were depending on me to trust Primus, to trust Fate. They were depending on me to sacrifice my brother. I shamelessly wept at the thought.

"Sam…" I felt his wordless encouragement, reassurance, and acceptance.

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I closed my eyes and, summoning all the courage I could, I recalled the harmonics I'd learned from Primus himself. The sensations of death washed over me, and I shuddered, but it worked. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel where the Matrix was and passed my hand over it. The harmonics of that spark within responded, shifting to match my own.

I opened my eyes and looked up from the red-glowing Matrix and into the crimson optics of my brother.

A prickle ran over my skull, making my hair stand on end.

"I am the Hunter Prime," he said, his hand closing around the Matrix into a protective fist. "Hunted Brother, give me your permission and blessing."

"Go," I said and then uttered the one blessing I wished for most, "and come back alive to us when you're done. That's all I ask."

With a nod, those eerily-red optics looked to the sky, and his jets fired up, lifting him into the night. I watched until he was swallowed up by the darkness and waited until he was again beyond the reach of my thoughts.

With nothing better to do, I went back downstairs to wait with Mikaela.

…

Falling asleep that night was hard. Usually Optimus met me, but we were all without his steadying presence right now. Beatus, bless his spark, made a point of joining me in my dreams, though. It felt odd to sense only him. I ended up teaching him some of the songs and games my kids enjoyed when they were younger.

"Do you really think Daemon's a Prime?" he asked after we sang the "Baby Shark" song for the fourth time.

Grateful for the change of pace, I said, "We don't know. It's possible, but kind of like you, he's too young to get involved in…in the Autobots, in the War at this point."

"I hope he is," Beatus said, his optimism warming me through. "I bet he doesn't get bored with songs like you do."

I half-smiled. "Can't hide anything from my bond-brother, can I? Daemon doesn't sing songs like 'Baby Shark' anymore. He's into Legos and Star Wars now. But I bet the two of you would still have a lot of fun together."

"I'm sad we won't get to know each other until he's almost all the way grown up. I'll still be little!"

"It makes me a little sad, too," I truthfully answered, "but remember how scared you were after those parts got stolen by the Decepticons? You're too precious of a secret for us to risk that way."

He sighed, and while his faceplates couldn't pout, I sure could feel it over the bond.

"Come on," I said, trying to cheer him up. "'Baby Shark,' one more time!"

…

With the help of my kin, I held it together until Prowl hailed us three days later. On the big screen in the command center, he said, "We have visual confirmation that Optimus has successfully rendezvoused with Shockwave at the space-bridge and that they passed through the 'bridge without incident."

My lips tingled with shock; those words hit me that hard. Bumblebee placed a steadying hand behind my back and said to the screen, "Acknowledged. Thank you, Prowl. Tower out."

Over the bond, he wrapped me up in a hug of the heart, and my spark clung to his. "Are you going into shock?" he softly asked. "Should I call Evac?"

I forced myself to take a deep breath, to get my lungs and heart working again. "What was I thinking, letting Optimus put himself in danger like this?!"

Soothing reassurance washed over our kinbond, and he scooped me up and held me close to the warmth of his frame. Just moments later, Evac stepped off the lift and hurried over to me. By then I'd stopped trembling, but the dread still lay heavy over me like a suffocating blanket.

I could no longer feel my brother. It wasn't like before when he was mining asteroids and too far away to talk to or read emotionally. Even then, I could feel that he was there on the other end, that the bond itself still existed. This time he was just…gone.

…

The bond warmed to life, and I felt like I was coming back to life after ten days without my brother. Optimus was too far away to sense much beyond the shadow of his presence, but still I grinned at Mikaela. "He's back."

She sighed in relief and both our phones chimed with notifications.

I pulled mine out, expecting a triumphant message from Optimus, but instead it was Prowl in a group text. /Standby./

Puzzled, I sent, /What's wrong?/

Prowl's reply was immediate. /Something came through the space-bridge, but it's not responding to hails, and the space-bridge almost immediately opened a second time./

/It's Optimus,/ I assured him.

/He's injured,/ Arcee sent.

Bumblebee added, /We might need Sideswipe's or Tracks' flight capabilities after all./

Prowl repeated, /Standby./

"Slag," Mikaela muttered.

I tried reaching out to Optimus over the bond, but he was just too far away.

/Sideswipe and Tracks are en route,/ Prowl sent. /Standby./

Standby, I mentally grumbled. Wait. Sit and wait while my brother was hurt and apparently adrift in the inner solar system.

A sudden, terrifying thought hit me. /What about Decepticons? Did any of them follow him through the space-bridge?/ He was helpless!

/He appears to have come through alone, but we're watching and waiting,/ Prowl replied. /For now, hold your positions and standby./

"What the frag?" I muttered.

Mikaela huffed a mirthless laugh. "I guess we just standby."

"Or we go down to the basement to talk with Bumblebee." Bumblebee, whose bond with Optimus was probably strong enough for them to actually communicate across the distance.

My best friend was worried – my bond with him through Beatus was solid enough for me to sense that much at least – and I was antsy in the elevator.

He scooped me up and held me close as soon as I stepped out into the Autobot common room. Once I was cradled against his chassis, he picked up Mikaela, too, and cuddled her close.

"That bad, huh?" Mikaela asked him.

He emotionally cringed a little when he answered, "He's blocking the bond."

"WHAT?" I demanded.

"It's bad. He's lost both long- and short-range communications, half his Blackbird armor is too slagged to use, one of his energon swords is snapped, and one leg is smelted below the knee so badly that Ratchet will probably have to rebuild it. The only reason he didn't lose more of that leg is he was using a dead Decepticon as a shield. Optimus admitted to all that. When Ironhide asked him what happened, though, he blocked the bond and still hasn't let any of us through."

"At least he's still alive," Mikaela said. "I mean, parts can usually be repaired, using the Matrix if necessary, even. But if we lost him again…"

"He's been through one Pit of a firefight," Bumblebee answered, his antennas falling in doubt, "but I've seen him badly damaged like this before. A couple of times, it's even been worse. He's never given his entire command staff the silent treatment before, though."

I remembered a bond dream he'd shown me once where he got the Autobot equivalent of a concussion. "Maybe he's trying to spare us the bond-feedback from his injuries. Sparing us the pain."

"Why didn't he take the ten seconds necessary to let us know the Matrix has been replenished, though?" Bumblebee asked, drooping even lower. "Whatever happened with Shockwave, Optimus doesn't want to talk about it."

So we were all going to just stand by and let him stew in whatever excruciating pain and bad mood he was in?

A sudden thought struck me. In a low whisper, I breathed, "Send in Beatus."

None of us in the clan could resist him. And he wouldn't judge. That's probably why Optimus was blocking the bond, because he was embarrassed he got beat up so badly and he didn't want to face the scolding he'd get from Prowl and Ratchet via us. So we should send in the one person who never would judge him.

…

My sense of Beatus had been…dimmed, I guess, all day and I was anxious to hear what he learned from Optimus. I wasn't the only one, either. In my bond dream that night, the entire clan was waiting for him.

"Where's Beatus?" I asked 'Bee.

"He's…learning," he answered. "With Optimus blocking his bonds, it's been difficult for Beatus to reach him."

"I've shown him a few tricks," Arcee added. "Hopefully he'll get through this time."

We whiled away the night for a bit before Beatus returned to us.

"Well?" I demanded, dropping to one knee in front of him.

Planting his hands on his hips, he declared, "The only thing he would say is that you all are cowards for sending a sparkling to do a mech's job."

I snorted in answer. "Tell him I'll kick his aft myself once he's in range if he doesn't stop acting more immature than the actual sparkling."

Beatus tilted his helm curiously. "Really? You want me to tell him that?"

"Yes," Chromia all but growled.

"Okay…" he doubtfully said and disappeared again.

…

With Sideswipe and Tracks playing tugboat, it took Optimus twice as long to get home from the space-bridge. And he was still stubbornly blocking the bond.

On one hand, he was alive, and we were all relieved to have him back. On the other hand, I just couldn't make sense of why he was acting the way he was. So I anxiously stretched myself over that bond sense as he drew closer, hoping to make a connection. He was just under a day out still when I finally managed to break through his block. He was hurting a lot from his extensive damage, but he'd turned off as many pain sensors as he could.

Leave me alone, Sam.

Really? I'm thrilled that you're alive and that's how you greet me?

I'm not in any condition to converse with you right now.

Pushing even deeper in his mind, I snarked, So you'd rather talk with Sideswipe?

My communications arrays are not functioning, so I am unable to talk with either him or Tracks in the vacuum of space.

Don't be obtuse, I snapped.

He tried to push me out of his mind, but I was his brother Prime – his twin for all intents and purposes – and I held my ground. It was a testament to just how beat up he was that I was able to overpower him pretty quickly. I'm not going anywhere as long as you're in this funk, I declared.

Sam… His stubbornness melted into despair, and he let me in deeper – invited me, even – until I could access his memories.

He was approaching the solar harvester with Shockwave at his side, and with a mental start, I recognized the asteroid it had been built on. I'd seen it in vision years ago, and Optimus had often puzzled over why I hadn't recognized the Autobots who were to help us replenish the All Spark. Now he (and I) knew: it was because Decepticons were the mechs who were at his side.

Still, Shockwave uneventfully led Optimus to the keyhole for the Matrix, and Optimus put it in place, activating the solar harvester. This time, the machine glowed red as it gathered the necessary power to shoot a killing beam of light at the blue giant star above. Once it reached firing strength, the beam shot upward, and like in my vision, an expanding ring rippled out from the point of impact as the All Spark devoured the star.

Optimus nodded in satisfaction.

I wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually the light of the star winked out, and only a shriveled, dimly-glowing ember remained. The solar harvester slowly powered down and released the Matrix of Leadership, blue-lit again.

The blow, when it came, was not unexpected, and Optimus moved in time for the Seeker's blade to miss his spark, striking his forearm instead. Then it was a full-on melee, and Optimus was fighting for his life against every Decepticon there. Every Decepticon except Shockwave, that is. He nonchalantly retrieved the Matrix from the machine and flew toward the space-bridge.

/SHOCKWAVE!/ Optimus roared over an open comm as he cut the head off the Seeker in front of him. /It won't work for you! Only a Prime can wield the Matrix!/

Shockwave paused on his path to the space-bridge. Also over an open comm, he answered, /Don't return until the so-called Prime is extinguished./ Then he was gone.

Trapped on that side of the space-bridge, Optimus took one hell of a beating. He impaled through the spark, decapitated, sliced in half, or tore apart the four Decepticons he could get his hands on. The remaining six attacked him with an ongoing barrage of missiles. He was being driven back toward the space-bridge, and to his surprise, he felt the portal respond to his Blackbird armor. In desperation, he activated the offered lines of code and the portal opened. The missile that slagged his leg (and half of the empty Decepticon frame he was using as a shield) was the one that knocked him through the space-bridge. When he realized where he was, he instantly closed the 'bridge and then opened it again but for an end-portal at a different destination – any destination – than the system he'd left behind. Once he'd made sure Shockwave's Seekers wouldn't be following him, only then did guilt and despair wash over him.

He was home and alive – barely – but without the Matrix of Leadership.

I stepped back out of his memories and glomped him in a hug of the heart.

You are too generous, Sam. A brother should not have done this.

You fought with everything you had back there, I assured him.

I did more than make a massive tactical error, he continued as if my words hadn't just echoed in his own spark. I endangered you when I revealed that only a Prime can wield the Matrix. The Decepticons know you are a Prime. I have placed you in danger at a time when I am unable to come to your aid.

We humans are just bugs to them, I pointed out. Even my spark won't be enough to convince them otherwise. So I'm not the one you need to worry about right now. Right now, you need to cooperate with Ratchet and get rested up and repaired as quickly as you can.

I failed you and the entire second Dynasty of the Primes, he said despondently.

Hey, I said, pushing back hard against his despair. I've got your back on this, and I'll break the news to Prowl. Just focus on healing and repairs. I mean it. Things will work out. You just need to get to DG and get better. Trying to cheer him up at least a little, I pointed out, And now we know what Jetfire meant when he promised you'd have a power you've never known with the help of his parts. Here all this time we were thinking it was just wings and firepower, but no, it's also the ability to open a space-bridge. That could come in handy as we figure out a plan for stealing the Matrix back.

His gratitude for that hopeful thought – that we'd be able to right this wrong somehow – washed over me across the miles. Thank you, Sam. More than I can say.

I nudged him over the bond, letting him know I could feel it even if he couldn't put it into words. Love ya, Optimus.

…

As promised, I was the one who broke the news to Prowl. 'Bee connected us via the screen in the command center and then gave us some privacy.

After I told Prowl everything Optimus had shown me – including descriptions of the Decepticons, as best I could – he surprised me by slowly nodding his helm. "This mission was a success. A qualified one, but a success nonetheless."

"Optimus doesn't see it that way," I warned him.

A rare smile flitted across his faceplates. "I often see things he doesn't. There's a reason I'm his second-in-command."

…

It was a huge relief when 'Bee confirmed that Optimus was on the ground and being repaired by both Ratchet and Arcee. Whenever he wasn't out cold for surgery, Optimus still had a lightweight block up on his bonds, but this time I was pretty sure it was just to spare us the bond-feedback from his wounds. He lifted the block willingly enough when I nudged against it before turning in for the night. Agreement flowed in from his end of the bond, though it seemed more…fuzzy than usual.

He met me on the end of the aircraft carrier, like usual, but he was struggling to stay focused. Thank you, Sam.

For what?

In answer, he brought me back to a memory from just a few hours ago. That was apparently easier for him than conversing with me. He'd come around from surgery to a mostly-empty med bay. Prowl was the only one there, keeping watch.

"Well done, old friend," Prowl said.

Irritated, Optimus looked away from him toward the ceiling. "I would have thought mocking me was beneath you."

"It is. You mistake my meaning, Optimus."

"Shockwave betrayed us. The All Spark has fallen into Decepticon hands. I barely escaped with my life." Turning to look at his SIC again, he admitted, "You were right."

"I usually am," Prowl answered, his door-wings spreading up and wider in muted humor. "But I was also wrong, thankfully. You did survive, despite the odds being against you. More importantly – and against all hope – the All Spark has been successfully replenished."

"But Shockwave…"

"...reached out to us once already. This is different from when the Cube was still on Cybertron. Only a Prime can wield the Matrix, and the Decepticons have no Prime. What's more, even among Primes, only you can generate energon. They expect the All Spark to spontaneously generate energon like it did in the Cube. Now it cannot because it is housed in the Matrix and it cannot be used by anyone within the Decepticon ranks."

"Megatron is also a descendent of the Primes," Optimus pointed out.

"Do you believe he can wield the Matrix of Leadership?" Prowl calmly asked.

Optimus remembered then his experiences in the Well of All Sparks, and he knew in his spark that Megatron was now fallen, too. Among other reasons, Megatron was alive again when The Fallen had been loosed, and that wouldn't have happened if Megatron had been a Prime. "No. I am certain he cannot."

Prowl nodded in agreement. "In that case, there's a better than 80% probability that Shockwave will hail us again once he learns that for himself."

Optimus was a little unnerved by how blithe Prowl was being. "He might attempt to spark new life or reignite extinguished Decepticons."

Prowl shook his helm. "Even you needed an energon infusion when you were reignited, and it was supplied by Jetfire along with his parts. Likewise, both younglings and sparklings need a ready supply of energon. That's likely why his initial request was for an ongoing percentage rather than a set amount. Logically, Shockwave would not use the Matrix to attempt to grant life until he first used it to attempt to generate energon. Either way, though, he will fail to activate it and will contact us."

Optimus made a noncommittal sound as he processed that. "You're 80% certain?"

"Approximately."

"Amd the remaining 20%?"

"Split among him trying to destroy the Matrix, making an attack on Earth to coerce you by force into generating more energon and casting it to the stars in revenge. In that order, from most to least likely."

"The Matrix cannot be destroyed."

Prowl shrugged. "Then the probability jumps to more than 90% that he will initiate contact. For now, I recommend we wait and that you focus on recovering your strength."