Silverstorm didn't know what to do about Ratchet. It had been a week since the medbay explosion, and things were not well. Optimus was trying desperately to mediate, but neither Silverstorm nor Ratchet would bend. The fact that Optimus wouldn't back Silverstorm up was not lost on the younger Prime nor was it lost on the younglings. Still, things were civil. At least they were until Air Raid decided to show off.
Silverstorm was pinged by Silverbolt, and he answered. "Yes?"
"Raid is in bad shape," he said hoarsely. "Please meet us at the medbay. I can't handle this alone."
"On my way," Silverstorm said.
He got to the medbay in record time, and he found it locked. He hesitated then typed in the override. After stepping through, the door shut behind him, and he saw Silverbolt standing anxiously by as Pipes and First Aid did that frantic, controlled scramble that medics did in emergencies. Ratchet was nowhere in sight. Silverstorm hurried over to Silverbolt, reaching out to trace a soothing pattern on the plane of his wing as he reached him. Silverbolt turned and whined a little.
"He's hurt so bad, Prime," Silverbolt whispered brokenly.
"What happened?" Silverstorm asked. "Decepticon attack?"
Silverbolt scoffed. "I wish it was a good excuse like that. No, Air Raid decided to showoff an advanced maneuver he's come up with that he hasn't practiced enough, and he crashed."
"Who was he showing off for?" Silverstorm asked in exasperation.
"That Ironhide mech and a few others. He was the first that reached us and helped us stabilize him," Silverbolt said. His optics went white as his knees gave way, and Silverstorm caught him.
"You need to sit. Come over here," Silverstorm said, trying to guide him to a berth.
"No! I need to be able to see him!" Silverbolt exclaimed.
Silverstorm held up a hand. "Okay. Then let me get you a chair. I don't need you passing out and injuring a wing. One Aerialbot in the medbay is enough. Besides, if you're injured, you're going to be in that berth whether you like it or not."
Silverbolt gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, Prime. That's true."
After retrieving a chair, Silverstorm eased Silverbolt into it then stood beside him and resumed soothing him with wing language. Silverbolt leaned into him, keeping his optics locked on Air Raid's unconscious form. First Aid and Pipes, to their credit, managed to work around Silverbolt's need to have an unbroken view of his Aerialbot quite well, only needing to step in for a few brief seconds before darting aside so that Silverbolt could see him again.
The door suddenly opened and Ratchet came hurrying in with Optimus right behind him.
"What's going on?" Ratchet asked.
"Crash," Pipes said. "Could you come and help? We're frantic here!"
Ratchet hurried over and paused beside Silverstorm before he offlined his optics. "I would like to apologize, Prime. I shouldn't have thrown anything at you. It's a bad habit."
Silverstorm smiled and nodded. "Apology accepted, old friend."
Ratchet nodded then looked around. His optics landed on Silverbolt, and he frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
"He's upset," Silverstorm said. "He can't stand seeing his 'bots like this."
Ratchet softened. "I know what you mean. I see a lot like this. But he's in capable hands. Aid's one of the best medics in the Autobot ranks. I've rarely seen skill to match his. And Pipes? Well, he's not got experience, but he sure is eager to learn. He's a good junior medic."
"Who has performed intensive spark surgery multiple times," Silverstorm said, his optics glittering.
Ratchet snorted, hiding a grin. "There's that, too."
"Ratchet!" Pipes shouted.
Ratchet glanced over but didn't move. "You'll be fine, if you'll calm down. You've already got the ruptured lines under control. Now what is the next step? Stop and think, don't just run around."
Pipes stopped and stared for a moment before intaking a deep breath. Once he was calmer, he turned to look at Air Raid. "The lines need replaced first," he said. "Then we'll deal with the wiring."
"Agreed," First Aid said. "Ratchet?"
"If Pipes doesn't mind," he said.
"Why would I mind?" Pipes asked. "You apologized to Prime, so you're welcome in here as far as I'm concerned. Now six hands are better than two."
"I'll document," First Aid said.
"Then let's get started," Ratchet said.
For the next few hours, the three medics steadily repaired the damaged flier while Optimus and Silverstorm chatted and kept Silverbolt calm. Silverstorm even taught him several symbols in wing language to soothe fliers. By the time the medics were done, it was well into the recharge period.
First Aid stretched after wiping down the tools. "Well, I'm about ready to recharge."
"You go on," Ratchet said. "We'll finish up here."
Pipes waved First Aid off, and Ratchet went over to mark down vitals as Pipes typed at the database to add to Air Raid's file.
Optimus and Silverstorm coaxed Silverbolt into the second berth to recharge. "He's all settled," Silverstorm said, guiding Silverbolt past Ratchet. "And you'll know the instant he's awake or uncomfortable, right?"
Silverbolt nodded and huffed static in a yawn. "Could you check his temperature, docbot?" he asked blearily as he climbed into the berth and sank down. "It's awful hot, and I don't think it's me that's hot."
Ratchet turned to peer sharply at Silverbolt. "Beg pardon?"
"Check Raid's temperature. He's a bit warm," Silverstorm said, smoothing his palm over Silverbolt's wing plane.
Ratchet scowled then did so. He stiffened and turned around to meet Optimus's gaze. He made a face then gestured between the two fliers. Optimus shrugged and waved his hand dismissively. Ratchet's optics flashed as he turned to write down the data before administering a flush of coolant into Air Raid's system. As he pressed the button, he kept his optics locked on Silverbolt, who shivered as if he were cold before he settled back with a contented sigh.
"That's better. All cool and nice…"
"Recharge, Bolt," Silverstorm said as Ratchet turned and walked into a back room of the medbay. "I'll come check on you in awhile."
"Thanks, Prime. Could you wait for the others outside? I'm so sleepy…"
"Sure. I'll inform them and let them in to see him,"
Silverstorm made sure Silverbolt and Air Raid were resting peacefully before he walked out and waited by the medbay. After ten minutes, the other Aerialbots came over. Even Fireflight was alert.
"Well?" Slingshot demanded.
"He's stabilized and resting. Silverbolt has been stressed for so long that I think his body gave out."
"Naturally," Skydive sighed.
"Can we see them?" Fireflight asked.
"Naturally," Silverstorm said, and he turned and typed in the code. The first thing that caught his optics was a flash of white terror in Ratchet's optics as he saw who was coming in. "Don't you move!" Silverstorm boomed as Ratchet's hands flew forward to try and get rid of whatever he was looking at. Silverbolt jolted awake and peered around.
"Prime?" Silverbolt slurred. "What's wrong?"
"If I come over there, what will I see on the screen?" Silverstorm asked in a dangerous tone.
Ratchet didn't answer, but when Silverbolt turned to look at the screen, his face twisted into a hellish rage. "That's our medical files!"
Silverbolt was halfway out of the berth when Silverstorm reached Ratchet. He didn't hesitate, grabbing his wrist and hauling him around. Silverbolt sank back down, his rage replaced by shock to see that Silverstorm was just as angry as he'd been moments before. Silverstorm dragged Ratchet out of the medbay and down the street, ignoring the medic as he fought to break his grip or stop him. There was one thing to say about Primes: they were built different, and Silverstorm and Ratchet both knew it as Ratchet's efforts didn't do anything but irritate the Prime.
The building the mechs had turned into a recreational room came into view, and Silverstorm pushed past any mech and youngling who tried to ask what was wrong. Everybody followed them into the lounge area where Optimus and Ironhide were talking. Optimus looked up and stood abruptly, and the room fell silent as Silverstorm whipped Ratchet forward and slung him to the floor. Ratchet rubbed his wrist where Silverstorm had dented his armor inward, wincing as the pinches of pain.
"What's going on?" Optimus asked.
"Ratchet just got into the Aerialbots' medical files," Silverstorm said, his voice cold.
"I have every right to know what's going on with those fliers!" Ratchet snapped. "Something's not adding up!"
"What is going on with them is none of your slagging business, Ratchet," Silverstorm replied, and sparks of energy crackled at his fingertips. "It is their information, and they don't have to share it with a stranger who has done nothing but push them for details they don't want to divulge." He looked up and crossed his arms. "What are we going to do about this, Optimus?"
Optimus peered at Ratchet. "Don't do it again," he said tiredly.
"Yes, Prime," Ratchet said quickly. He stood up and tried to scuttle away, but he was shocked back by a shield. Ratchet cowered behind Optimus as Silverstorm glared at him.
"Oh, I know that's not it," Silverstorm said, placing a hand on his hip.
"What do you want me to do?" Optimus asked. "He's just a concerned medic."
"Who broke the law by hacking into a medical database that wasn't his to begin with," Silverstorm said.
Optimus froze then squirmed and glanced around. "I'll talk to him."
"No, he needs to be punished for insubordination."
"He isn't acting insubordinate," Optimus said.
"Optimus!" Kup exclaimed as Silverstorm went very still.
"He disobeyed me," Silverstorm said, his voice soft. "That is insubordination, isn't it, Optimus? I'm a Prime, just like you. And he disobeyed me. So he will be punished."
After another sweeping glance around, Optimus straightened and glared at Silverstorm. "You don't have enough experience in dealing with these matters, Silverstorm."
Silverstorm stared at Optimus then began to laugh. "I knew it was too good to be true!"
"What?" Optimus asked, his hand coming up to scratch at his chest. He was suddenly very uneasy.
"Oh, you aren't fooling me anymore," Silverstorm sneered.
"Fooling you?" Optimus asked.
"You never thought I was any good on Earth in my other form, so why should this one be any different?"
"What are you talking about?" Optimus demanded
The room was silent as electricity crackled between Silverstorm's fingers. "Admit it, Optimus! You don't think I'm a good Prime!"
Optimus snorted before he could help it. "When you're throwing a fit like this?" he asked. "It's kind of obvious."
Then, realizing who he'd just said that to, Optimus braced himself to be attacked. But the electricity stopped flowing and the room became completely silent. Optimus watched as Silverstorm seemed to shut down completely.
"Guess you're right," he said softly. "I tried to tell Primus that before. Maybe he'll believe me now. Better go tell him."
Without another word, Silverstorm turned and left, his wings strangely relaxed despite the look on his face. Optimus didn't understand, and he watched him go. Then he registered that Silverstorm was going to tell Primus something."
"Tell Primus what?" he asked, his spark clenching. "Wait! What's he going to tell Primus?"
"What do you think?" Mirage asked, his voice tight. "That he's not fit to be a Prime, of course. That Primus made a mistake picking him."
"Primus doesn't make mistakes when it comes to appointing Primes," Optimus said.
"Really?" Sunstreaker sneered. "Because you just implied otherwise."
"I said nothing of the sort," Optimus argued.
"Don't bother, bro," Sideswipe said, tossing back his energon. "That glitchhead's too dense to know that not everybody is perfect like the great Optimus Prime." The title was spat out like it disgusted him. "Better go make sure Silverstorm's okay."
"Wait!" Optimus ordered. "You can't leave."
"Watch me, fragger," Sunstreaker said, getting right in Optimus's face. He shoved him roughly aside, and he scanned the room as his brother sashayed out. "Anybody else?"
Every single youngling left with them, not sparing a single glance for any of them. The mechs stood there in shock for several moments before Kup shoved Optimus.
"You idiot!" he roared. "I told you not to do it! I told you to be careful! But you didn't listen! And you've certainly done it now!"
"Done what, Kup?" Optimus demanded.
"You've caused a Prime Schism, that's what you've done!"
"What does that mean?" Ratchet asked as Optimus's optics flashed white.
Kup glared at him. "That means that whoever claims to follow Silverstorm is going to suddenly decide that Optimus no longer has authority because he's not their Prime. Congratulations. We've now got another thing to worry about. And it's your fragging fault, Optimus."
"How?" Optimus asked.
"Because you know that he was right. Ratchet should be arrested and tried for his crimes against the Aerialbots' privacy. He wasn't even asking for that. All he wanted was for you and everybody else on your team, including your out-of-bounds medic, to acknowledge that he is a Prime and that Primus didn't make a mistake."
Optimus stood there for a moment, staring at Kup, then he sank to the floor and groaned. There was a scramble around him as his spark went wild in its casing. Something was wrong…
'Schism… A Prime Schism…' he thought, and his spark continued to throb and hurt. 'Sorry… Sorry…' But there was suddenly nothing there, and Optimus became aware of being alone for the first time since he'd landed on Cybertron. He screamed and writhed until something pricked his soft neck cables and darkness swallowed his vision, drawing him into a fitful recharge.