(***)

Yep, we got our answer eventually.

I spent the night in the part of Iacon. Wasn't like the Central Committee was expecting me back right away. I didn't do a whole lot of sleeping, though; neither did Nautica. Too many questions and too few means of slowing your thoughts down when you're in the middle of a war. Eventually, Nautica and I decided that sticking around what passed for a "residence," with no intention of actually using the recharge slab, was irresponsible. Someone else could take it—and someone else did (Swerve, if you were wondering). We passed the time by driving to the outskirts of the city—the other side of the great plateau that Optimus had been staring at—and, once we were clear of any potential interlopers, we just…started walking. Walking and talking and being mindful that Optimus could be back in his spot, back and willing to talk to us, at any moment.

Or, at least, we hoped it'd be at any moment.

"Are we okay with what just happened?" Nautica said to me as we walked. She kicked at a rock and it tore a thin strip out of the ground for about a mile.

"Do we have a choice?" I said. "Feels an awful lot like we don't have a choice."

"That's what a lot of this revolves around, doesn't it? Choices—and whether any meaningful ones exist."

"Yeah…well, speaking of meaning, I meant most of what I said. Which I guess that means I have to be okay with it."

"It's not exactly a transitive relation," Nautica said. "But…I think I know what you're saying." Nautica kicked another rock.

"I also guess this assumes Pri—sorry, Optimus, I guess this assumes he'll actually, y'know, take a break. Or something."

"He didn't immediately shoot it down," he said. "Or, he stopped shooting it down—eventually."

"Good enough for hope," I said. "Y'know, in theory." I saw Nautica's face fall just a bit. "Hey, I meant what I said before we left the plateau, too. I meant that hope's what Autobots are all about."

"It's just got me thinking…it's got me thinking if we're at the point we're at because…well, because maybe High Command…it sounds corny, the way I'm about to word it."

"Right, like sounding corny's the end-all be-all," I said. I flinched a bit. "Sorry, that came out, uh, harsh. I just mean we're in uncharted territory in the middle of a pan-galactic war. I'm surprised language is even still working right now, given what we've seen and done to each other."

Nautica tapped her chin. "You make a fair point. About what the war's done to our ability to communicate. Which is…well I think that might be a better way of getting at what I was about to say."

"You think High Command's tongue-tied?"

"I think they might have silently given up hope that any normal means of helping Optimus were off the table. And they probably thought that because they couldn't articulate what they wanted or why they were bothered, not outside the context of the war."

I was tapping my chin at that point, too. "Explains why they'd loop Prowl into this. If anyone's got a handle on speaking war, it's him."

"He's also more than happy to vocalize what the rest of High Command is ashamed to be thinking. Though I…that must be an awfully vicious feedback loop they've created for themselves."

"As in, 'oh god did I just repeat something Prowl said'?"

"Exactly."

Things fell dramatically into place; a clearer picture, rich and full of connections, was now living in my brain. I probably should have told Nautica that right there; it took me too long to get around to actually making that clear to her. Instead, I flashed back to my conversation/interrogation session with Ratchet, and Ratchet effectively ate up all the processing power that my brain wasn't using to move my legs.

"Mmm, guess we get to play a fun game of 'how much self-loathing is Ratchet feeling at this moment.'" I palmed my forehead. "Agh, I'm gonna have to deal with him at some point."

"I could help," Nautica said. "I've been drafted already. I might as well see this though."

"And a big part of me's saying I'll take you up on that offer," I said. "But…let's see what Prime says. Optimus. Let's see what Optimus says." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Agggggh that's gonna grate on the ol' brain module."

We circled back and drove to the plateau, half expecting Optimus to be there, waiting for us. So we were half right, because he was. Nautica and I stopped at the top of the hill overlooking Optimus's spot, as was tradition.

"Does he look…does he look better?" Nautica said, still in vehicle mode. "As in, less tense?"

"Might be my eyes playing tricks on me," I said, also still in vehicle mode. "Except you're seeing it to, so what're the chances we're both hallucinating."

"We should go to him. We shouldn't stare at him like last time."

"Yeah, you're probably right. At least he's got his back tur—wait no now he's looking at us quick start driving so he thinks—"

"Please don't make me call you down here," Optimus said.

"Scrap," I said.

We transformed and walked down the hill, and soon we were back in front of Optimus Prime again. But just Optimus—this time, it was just Optimus.

And up close? Yeah, he did look a little less tense. Only a little, but, enough to be noticeable.

"High Command hasn't been informed yet," Optimus said, "but I…agree with your assessment. I should take a break."

I looked at Nautica; Nautica looked at me. "Optimus," she said, "we didn't—"

Optimus sighed. "Yes, yes I know I…apologies, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I agree that I want to take a break. I'm…having difficulty breaking the news to myself. I'm afraid that's an omen of things to come."

I looked at Nautica and motioned for her to say something. Because she'd said it best already, out in the wasteland. She'd made an excellent point about High Command and I thought, if Optimus heard that, he'd maybe get an understanding of what this seemingly small act on his part could do—what it could help create.

And then I remembered we don't have telepathy—or Nautica and I don't, at least—and so all it looked like I was violently twitching.

"Skids?" Optimus said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I said, "just trying to…uh, Nautica, you made a point while we were clearing our heads. About High Command and language?"

"I…oh. Oh, yes—yes I, yes, Skids, you're right." Thank Primus Nautica's so quick on the uptake. She turned to Optimus. "Skids and I, we think that High Command is…is sort of locked in their own heads. They're seeing everything through the lens of the war and they're ashamed by it. So when you say omens, I—is this what you're talking about, Skids?"

"Yeah, yeah exactly," I said. I also turned back to Optimus. "I think you'll send a pretty powerful message. Something like, war or no war, we still try and think of ourselves as people."

"I think High Command will appreciate the reminder."

"And if Prowl's got a problem with it I'll personally tell him where to shove it," I said.

Optimus stared at us. And, then—after a few seconds of silence—his posture relaxed a bit more. I mean, it relaxed. You wouldn't have noticed how tense Optimus looked until you saw what his shoulders did; then you'd realize what kind of posture he'd been holding for who-knows how long…and what kind of mental state you'd have to be in to be stuck like that.

"Prowl is free to voice his objections," Optimus said. "But…I hope you two are right about the others."

"Hope's what we Autobots are all about," I said. I gave Nautica a wink; she smiled back.

And Optimus grabbed our attention right back.

"Skids," he said, "Nautica—I have a question for you. You don't have to answer it, but I…am still curious."

I nodded; Nautica did too. "Shoot," I said.

"Why did you agree to do this?" he said.

I paused. Actually, that undersells it: I felt a gear seize up. Introspection: my long-lost ex who'd, once upon a time, left me naked on the corner with a massive gash on my eye. I strongly believe that forming theories about yourself contravenes the Autobot Code's provisions against cruel punishment, but that's a thing for a different day.

The fact is, I hadn't thought about the "why" all that much. And, evidently, Nautica hadn't either, because she wasn't any quicker to respond than I was.

She did respond first, though, eventually.

"I agreed to help Skids because…well, actually, he hadn't really asked me to help. I sort of…inserted myself into the conversation when I saw Skids and Ratchet arrive." She looked up at Optimus. "But, when Skids did explicitly ask me to help, I hesitated but…I helped because I thought you needed it. That's the main reason, anyways."

My turn to say something. I couldn't help but think that a nice case of undiagnosed energon poisoning would've been real appreciated at that moment.

No such luck.

"I…frankly, Optimus? I was following orders," I said. "High Command told me to figure this out, so I did what High Command asked. And once Take One, co-staring Ratchet of Vaporex, I stuck around because I was curious, more than anything else." I flinched. "Just…being totally honest. And I'm flinching at myself, FYI not at—not at you or anything."

I looked down at the ground for a moment, then looked back at Optimus.

"The thing is, though—and Nautica kinda mentioned it too, when she said 'main reason'—but the thing is, curiosity's great for a little push (Nightbeat can attest to that) and all, but beyond that it's…it needs an equal partner, if that makes sense. Curiosity needed something with lasting power, even if it was just lurking beneath the surface. I like to think that equal partner, for me, was the same as Nautica's: someone needed help, and something's gone catastrophically wrong if an Autobot sees that and doesn't act."

I tapped my chin (thanks for the habit, Nautica) and looked off into space, briefly. Just taking in the vastness of everything and how small this moment—this conversation—was to the universe as a whole.

"Hope's what being an Autobot's all about," I said, "but I guess…that hope's gotta come from somewhere. And that somewhere is the same place that made sure curiosity kept me in Iacon when I could've run screaming off into the wastes. Y'know, I hope that's the case."

I looked at Optimus and shrugged. "I'm never gonna claim I'm perfect. Luckily, I don't have to. I just have to try and be better." I elbowed Nautica. "With the help of some friends, here and there."

Was that a good answer? No, I'm legitimately curious. I've got no idea if what I said there made sense or if I didn't anything to answer Optimus, because he didn't say anything for a good long while. I have theories—of course I do—based on what happened next, but do I know? Do I know if my answer had a significant part to play in any of that? No, no I do not.

But I hope it did.

"Why do you ask, Optimus?" Nautica said, once the silence had gone on long enough for her to get antsy. It looked like her question had snapped Optimus back from the wading around in his own mind.

"Curiosity," he said. "Personal curiosity."

I like to think that echo was deliberate.

That left an outstanding question on my end, though. Because hope is all well and good, yes, but Optimus sure didn't seem willing to give a break a try—not at the very beginning. And we sure weren't expecting an answer so soon, I'll tell you that much.

I raised my hand. It seemed like the right thing to do.

"Skids?" Optimus said.

"Question for you, if that's okay," I said.

Optimus, after a moment's hesitation, nodded.

"We uh…we weren't expecting an answer so quickly," I said. "What um…and—this is honestly just personal curiosity on my end, too—but…why'd, or, how did you decide to quickly that you were…yeah." I looked at Nautica. "If you've got a better way of wording that, be my guest."

"I don't think I do," Nautica said. "Sorry, Skids."

Then our eyes turned back to Optimus. There was another long pause.

Then, eventually, he said this:

"A long time ago, before I had even received the Matrix, someone told me something very important. Something that I had used as my guiding light and, I had hoped, continued to use even after the Matrix was placed in my chest. They said to me…they said to me, Orion, if you're going to be a leader…be strong enough to be gentle." He looked at the ground. "If a break can get me back to that point…then I'm willing to take one."

Be strong enough to be gentle…Nautica and I looked at each other. Words like that…it's hard not to be blown off your feet, when you hear them.

Nautica placed her hand on Optimus's shoulder. "So long as you remember to be gentle to yourself, as well."

Optimus nodded.

Be strong enough to be gentle…I still think about that, and the tone of his voice when he said it.

The three of us stared out into the wastes again. Cybertron's sun was slowly rising, and the purple ruins and jagged mountains were now turning bright orange. We just stood there and looked and let the light hit our optic sensors. Sometimes, I like to pretend I'm powered by solar energy instead of energon. It helps give the sunrise just a little more oomph. I didn't really need that extra oomph that day; it was energizing enough just seeing light, right after hearing Optimus's words.

Optimus was the first to start speaking again.

"I have another request," he said, turning to both Nautica and I. "What happened on Earth cannot be forgotten; nor can High Command ignore it. If you are able—if it is possible—I would…appreciate someone to accompany me. I want to emphasize that I'm not immune to inquiry, and I would like someone from this conversation to ensure the process is honest."

Nautica and I exchanged looks.

"Are you uh, are you planning on going straight to High Command?"

Optimus nodded. "But I want the whole of High Command present—not just the, as you call it, 'Central Committee'."

"Heard that bit, huh?" I said. I looked at Nautica. "I mean, technically I'm supposed to report to them. I can go. Or, hell, we could both go."

Nautica started nodding but stopped herself, halfway through a head-bob. "What about Ratchet?"

I palmed my forehead. "Gah, right—him. He's not a part of the High Command conversation anymore, is he?"

"He requested to be removed from High Command when we returned from Earth," Optimus said. "I…respect his decision."

I looked at Nautica. "I'm not sticking you with him. I'd have to turn in my badge."

"He can't be that bad," Nautica said.

"Skids may be closer to the truth than I wish to admit," Optimus said. "However, I do not want to impose. If I must go alone, I will."

Nautica shook her head. "You asked for our help—we'll give you our help."

And she was right: it was part of what being an Autobot is all about.

"You go," I said. "Go with Optimus. Ratchet's probably got unfinished business with me, anyways."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Nautica said.

"Then maybe this will: you'll probably have to deal with Prowl. So, really, we're even."

It took a few seconds, but eventually Nautica nodded.

We said our goodbyes, Nautica and I—and extra long hug and a promise to keep in touch, since who knew when life was going to let us see each other again. And I said goodbye to Optimus, too, all the while still thinking about what he'd said. Be strong enough to be gentle, be strong enough to be gentle…

I took off for the other side of Iacon, to Ratchet's clinic, with those words still repeating inside my head.

(***)

Ratchet was, in fact, back at his clinic. Part of me wondered if he'd be, y'know, elsewhere—but he'd just gone right back to work. Gone intensely back to work, it needed to be said. I was standing in a corner of his clinic for longer than felt comfortable and, being frank with you, I'd probably still be standing there if I didn't knock on the wall.

Ratchet's head shot up and I was greeted with a kind, benevolent, loving, welcoming: "Mmph."

Right back down to his workstation went Ratchet's head.

"Yeah, well, I guess it is kinda funny when you think of it that way," I said.

Up went Ratchet's head again. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just figured I'd pretend you did something besides make a noise."

Ratchet pushed away from his desk, still sitting in his chair. "You expecting me to jump for joy? That it? Yeah, Skids—I'm thrilled you're back. Just thrilled as hell."

"Really?" I said. "Huh, guess you're just grumpy by default, then."

"Yeah, nice talking to ya, Skids. Maybe let me get back to my work, huh?"

I held up my hands. "All right, just…full disclosure, that was some residual anger I had to work off. So I'm good now. You good?"

Ratchet stood. "In what fragging universe should I be good, kid? You being back here, that ain't exactly a good omen for this movement. You catch my meaning, Skids? You read what I'm saying through that 'give-no-damns' attitude of yours?"

"What? Where the hell're you getting—" I stopped myself. I wanted to engage; hooooooo boy did I want to engage. But, well, you gotta listen, right? That was what the whole experience with Optimus showed—you had to listen. Sometimes, that meant hearing the subtext—like if someone was worried sick about a long-time friend and figured they'd blown their last shot at helping them.

I kept my hands up. "Ratchet, look: believe it or not, I come bearing good news. I think…I think we broke through. I think we managed to get Optimus to seek some help."

Ratchet started scowling, which wasn't exactly what I was expecting. "Lying's not a great thing to do, where you're standing. Because I was there, Skids, and I know for a fact we didn't do anything of the sort."

We. Right, whoops. "I…sorry, Ratchet, when I said 'we'—what I meant there was Nautica and me. I sought out—I got some help from her and we, uh, we managed to crack the nut, I guess. I don't…that's probably not how I'd choose to word it, nine times outta ten."

I watched Ratchet: watched his body posture and his expression. His expression didn't soften so much as dissolve. His body posture more or less did the same, except going from standing ramrod straight to looking like your knee joints had melted spoke its own kind of language, if you get what I'm saying.

"What changed?" Ratchet said eventually.

"Err, um, that uh, that question could be interpreted a couple of ways." I rubbed at the back of my neck. "Like, are you asking how Optimus changed? Or how the plan ended up changing?"

Ratchet looked a tad guilty, so I think I know which one he meant. But he said, "Both—might as well tell me both."

I nodded. "Sure uh, yeah. Sure. So…as far as the plan went, we uh, we probably bumbled our way into it a bit. I mean, Nautica made some key observations and it was discussed how probably not a whole lot of…" I eyed Ratchet because, yeah, I really didn't know how this was gonna play out, what I was about to say.

"…okay, just being frank with you? It was suggested that not a whole lot of listening was actually being done and we needed to hear Optimus out from, y'know, from a place without any preconceptions. War preconceptions, I mean. Funny that, huh?" I cut in before Ratchet, looking angry, could say anything. "I say that but, hear me out: just because we knew we had to do it that way doesn't mean we did a good job of it. We bumbled, like I said. But…yeah, that was the strategy. We uh…we sorta realized you all—Optimus's closest friends, I mean—we sort of realized you might've slapped some stasis cuffs on yourself. Through no fault of your own, I swear! Um…is me being this defensive helping at all?"

I said that because Ratchet was still looking pissed…but, after I gave him a few seconds, his face went back to…well, back to looking tired, quite frankly. Quite a lot of that going around, seemed like.

He sighed. "If it worked, it worked. What about the second part?"

"Optimus…just needed a break. Badly. Some of the things he needed to process he couldn't do while being Autobot leader. Nautica said something about being subjected to repeated blows without a chance to stand up. I think—I might've just made that analogy up. But the core content's the same and that's Nautica's doing."

I paused, let Ratchet get a word in, and—when he didn't go for it—I continued.

"He's briefing High Command about his decision but, yeah—that's…that's more or less it."

Ratchet didn't look angry, but he didn't look pleased, either. "You…am I clear in understanding, Skids, that you just convinced the leader of the Autobots to step down?"

"What? God no! No no we—we asked him if he wanted a break! And then he went away, thought about it, said something about someone giving him a piece of advice a long time ago and…yeah. I'm pretty sure it's just a break, with the point being that the Autobots are strong enough to carry on while he repairs himself."

Ratchet was quiet again. And it was a long silence—just a lot of him staring at the floor. When his head slowly rose up, that was when his expression looked like it'd softened.

"Advice, huh? Lemme guess: something about what an appropriate leadership style is, right? About being gentle?"

"Uh…yeah. Yeah that was it." I rubbed the back of my neck again. "He uh, he didn't say who said it but…apparently that was his Matrix for many, many years. Or…jeez, I dunno, my brain's about to melt, but it meant a lot to him."

"Yeah, kid—it did." Ratchet shook his head. "I know what you're talking about. Haven't thought about that quote in a while—or the person who said it—but…but it makes sense."

"Who said it?"

"Long story. And if your brain module's melting then you'd better lay off on the stories for a little while."

"God, yeah, not gonna argue against that."

Ratchet stayed standing for a while longer. When he sat back down, he sat back with a grunt and a sigh. Lotta people showing their age, lately—lotta people reminding me that we've been at war for four million years, and some of us were around long before the fighting officially started.

"Guess that's that," he said. "High Command's being trying and trying and trying…but I guess that's that."

I walked a bit closer. "Like I said, it's really through no fault of your own. It's the war, man. The war's done messed everybody up."

"Say that again, please. Say it properly."

"The uh, the war sucks? That better?"

Ratchet nodded. "First way was fine, too. I just wanted to hear it again. Always nice, being reminded that things aren't supposed to be this way."

"Y'know," I said. "Optimus isn't the only one that could use a break, probably. I can think of a mighty long list, in fact."

"If there's a mass exodus towards taking personal vacations, pretty soon every Autobot's gonna do it."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Ratchet looked up at me. "Maybe not as much as I'm assuming, no." He looked back at his workstation. "I've got some stuff to do, talks of vacation notwithstanding. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like some peace and quiet."

"Uh, yeah—sure. Of course." I started towards the door but stopped halfway and turned back around. "Y'know, I'm sure Optimus would love to hear from you."

"And I'd love to lay into him about why this took so long." Ratchet shook his head. "Yeah, I'll talk to him. You say he's briefing High Command? The guards'll still let me in, so…I'll make sure I'm in the audience. But I'm gonna need some time."

"Gotcha. But…don't beat yourself up, all right? Like I said: even Nautica and I mostly bumbled into a solution."

"I hear ya, and I'll be sure to remember that while I'm pretending I'm not upset about someone else helping Optimus more than me."

"Aw Ratchet, c'mon—"

He held up his hand and turned to his work at the same time. "Don't worry about it, kid. You've done enough good work for the day—let me try sorting myself out before I call in the Heavy Brigade."

What can you say to that? I sure didn't know, so I turned to leave. I got about the same distance as last time when Ratchet's voice stopped me.

"Skids?" he said. He still had his head down, looking at the mess on his workstation, but his voice was softer. "I meant that, you know. You did good work. It's…appreciated."

I paused and tried to think of something clever to say. Nothing made an appearance, so I went with a standard answer.

"Thanks," I said, smiling slightly. "I appreciate it."

And, finally, out through the doors I went.

(***)

Guess I should try wrapping this up, huh? Yeah…yeah I probably should.

Well I wont' lie to you: it didn't really feel all that good to hear Ratchet say that. I mean it did a little, for sure—and for a brief amount of time, of course. I can't even really point to anything in particular that took that euphoric high and gave it a short half life—thinking about Optimus or the war or what might've happened on Earth didn't do that. It is the war, man. It just…sucks the life outta everything, I think.

But, hey, mission accomplished, at least. Even if my brain module wasn't getting a big electrified boost from my spark, I couldn't deny that something at least happened.

I didn't hear from Prowl after, because of course I didn't. Things didn't go exactly the way he planned, so why make an appearance at the debrief? In all honesty, I didn't get much of a debrief from High Command period. They were, as you might expect, a bit busy—though luckily Nautica was around to help out.

A little while after, Ultra Magnus found me and pulled me aside. He was as stern and no-nonsense as always which, as I've learned, was easy enough to see through if you could imagine just what kind of stress the big guy was under. And I mean really imagine—the kind of imagining that, more often than not, you have to go to a tough place yourself to get to.

"High Command just wants to say," Ultra Magnus said, "that you performed exceptionally. We appreciate what you managed to do, and we won't forget it."

"I'd uh, I'd check my notes on that," I said. "I helped, sure, but this was mostly Nautica."

"She's said the same thing, except in the other direction. I'd recommend you both accept the credit you're about to get. There's enough paperwork to worry about as is, right now."

"Gotcha. So long as the Central Committee reads the reports and, y'know, takes a lot of what we said to heart."

Magnus paused, looked off at the distance, and then turned his optics back on me. "The… 'Central Committee' has been given plenty of food for thought, trust me. Believe me when I say…we appreciate it. We honestly do."

Happy to help, Magnus. Happy to help.

Well, despite what I just said—and despite the impression I might've left at the beginning—I don't have a moral for this story. I mean, yeah: listen to people, give other people a chance to have a break, give yourself a break, the perils of leadership, etc etc etc. If you can find something coherent in all that, then you probably read more books in a week than I do in a lifetime. And good on ya, I says.

All I can say for certain right now is that the Autobot cause still seems to be going strong, even with Optimus healing himself. And that's good, because I like the sound of "Be strong enough to be gentle" too much for it to all go to hell now.

I don't have a moral, but maybe in a cold, heartless, hostile, and deeply disturbed universe, that right there—that message—might be good enough.

-Skids of Nova Cronum


Aaaaaand that's all she wrote.

Hope you enjoyed the story! Being honest, I don't know about this one - this was supposed to be closer to a pisstake, originally, than anything else. And it didn't end up being that way, that's for sure. Regardless, hope you enjoyed the read and don't want to burn my house down. That'd be appreciated: all my stuff's in there.

The quote about "being strong enough to be gentle" - which, along with Optimus having a face-fetish in the Bayverse movies - was what inspired this fic. For those not in the know, Peter Cullen's brother - Larry Cullen, a marine - told him that after being informed that Peter was going to play a leader-like truck in a new cartoon. Peter's said he keeps that mantra close to his heart (to the point where the voice he uses for Optimus is heavily based off Larry Cullen) and, well, it is a great sentiment - one that too few people take to heart, I think.

I don't know which character from Optimus's past said it - I couldn't think of one and the story wanted to move on - so you can substitute whoever you want into that slot.

And...yeah, that's all from me. Thanks for reading, and hope life's treating people as well as possible (ideally even better than that).