Things went from bad to worse quickly as the younglings split into a separate faction. They moved out of the shield completely and into the temple before Optimus regained consciousness. As none of the mechs dared to go into the temple, that effectively cut off all communication between them.

Optimus was unable to do much of anything after onlining. Something was desperately wrong, and he knew it was his fault. He'd caused a Prime schism. The last one had been with the Thirteen, and that rift had brought Earth into their war. He didn't know what to do to fix it. He couldn't go to the temple, no matter how many times it was suggested he go talk it out with Silverstorm. If he ran into Primus now, he was sure that he would hear the condemnation that rang in his head out loud, and if he did… Optimus didn't want to think about that.

After a week, Ultra Magnus was utterly fed up with Optimus's stubbornness, and he left to join the younglings, stating that they needed somebody to guide them because Silverstorm wouldn't be able to in his depressed state. Optimus knew that his outburst was the cause of all of this, but he couldn't take it back. He needed to talk to Silverstorm, but he wanted Silverstorm to not be in the temple. It was a stalemate.

Ironhide, trying to stay neutral, understood Optimus's anxieties. For so many years he'd led the Autobots across the galaxy in mission after mission as they tried to first find the Allspark, then to protect humankind. Now they were finally home, and Primus was awake and ready to talk, and yet Optimus couldn't face him. He'd never gotten approval from his own protector and he couldn't see how it would be any different with Primus. But Ironhide wasn't willing to let things slide, so when it was clear that Silverstorm wouldn't come to them, he'd go to the Prime himself.

"You want to do what, exactly?" Bumblebee asked, wiping down the table.

"Go to the temple," Ironhide repeated. "Come on, Bee, I know you're scared, but we can't keep this up. The Decepticons could resume the war any day. The younglings said we're welcome anytime, so I'm going to hold them to that."

"That was before Optimus put his foot in his mouth, as the humans say," Bumblebee said. He scoffed. "Silverstorm wasn't throwing a fit. What happened at the racetrack with me? That was a fit. Silverstorm has every right to demand punishment. Ratchet shouldn't get a free pass just because he's on the command team. What he did was wrong."

"I agree," Ironhide said. "So let's go to the temple and talk to Silverstorm and the younglings."

Bumblebee intook a huge breath then nodded. "Fine. Let's go. But I recommend we bring a gift of some kind or the younglings might just kick us out again."

Ironhide nodded and they quickly got together some of their favorite treats then headed for the temple. They approached with great trepidation. Ironhide had grown up hearing whispered stories about the temple and what happened to the unworthy that stepped inside. Bumblebee was more concerned about Primus. He knew that the younglings weren't lying about him, even if he hadn't seen him personally. He'd heard stories of him, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be welcome considering his unusual creation and life.

They stopped at the door and stared at it for several long moments. Then they both raised a hand and touched it. The door slid open immediately and green fire flickered to life in the brackets. Ironhide couldn't remember if green fire was a good sign or not. Bumblebee stared at the hallway then stepped forward and pulled Ironhide inside. They walked down a long, straight hall, with its perfect design and alternating doors, toward the beautiful door at the end of the hallway. The symbol painted on it was the same one that had been burned into the wall the day Silverstreak had been taken from Earth.

Ironhide touched the door and it opened. The two mechs crept forward, unsure of what lay beyond. Then, as the door slid shut behind them, they realized that Optimus's description had not done the beautiful spark of Primus justice. The swirling prismatic strands seemed to sing with joy, and a warm voice greeted them.

"Welcome, Ironhide. Welcome, Bumblebee. I was beginning to think that nobody would come."

They watched a silver and gold mech form under the spark, and Primus smiled at them and walked over. "I've been waiting for Optimus for a very long time. Yet he still stays away."

"He's afraid of you," Ironhide said weakly.

"I know," Primus said. "But you're not here to discuss that. What are you here for?"

"Don't you know?" Bumblebee asked.

"Perhaps," Primus said with a smile. "But it's always good to clarify."

"Well, we're here for Silverstorm."

"He's currently recharging. But the younglings aren't."

"Then we'll speak with them," Bumblebee said. "We need to."

Primus peered at Bumblebee thoughtfully. "It's alright to be afraid, you know. You've known nothing but war."

Bumblebee's optics flashed pink, and he looked away. "I'm Bumblebee. I can't be afraid."

"Of course you can. Everybody is afraid, and many of them are afraid of the unknown. But that doesn't mean you're a coward."

"I am a coward," Bumblebee snapped. "I don't want to feel this way."

"But you do, and ignoring it won't change anything. Now come. The younglings are this way."

Ironhide stared at Bumblebee for a moment, surprised by Primus's words. Was Bumblebee afraid? Judging from his pink optics, he was. He turned and quickly followed Primus, leaving Ironhide by himself. He stared at the spark for a minute or so, thinking about Bumblebee and his bravery. He'd been nothing but brave in the war, and it was all he'd known. But now he was facing the realization that the war would eventually end and he might still be alive. It was only a small lull in a war that had lasted for centuries (by human standards), but was it really enough of a glimpse into the future for Bumblebee to be afraid?

There was a soft noise, so beautiful and sweet, and Ironhide looked at the spark to see a tendril of purple come out of the prismatic swirling mass. It danced through the air and touched Ironhide's chest. Instantly, Ironhide knew he was being summoned, and he turned and followed the silent directions until he came to the viewing platform for the orchestral hall. Primus turned to smile at him.

"Come listen."

As the door shut behind Ironhide, the most beautiful music filled the room. He walked forward and looked down to see Sideswipe playing a melody on a Cybertronian keyboard. It was much more complex than the ones on Earth, at least when they'd left. Ironhide watched as Sideswipe concentrated on the melody. The others were watching from the edges of the room, standing in a semi-circle. Then Sideswipe nodded, and the younglings began to sing. It was breathtaking and beautiful beyond anything Ironhide and Bumblebee had ever seen.

"It's amazing," Bumblebee whispered. He turned to Primus. "Why can't I do something like that?"

"You can," Primus said matter-of-factly. "You've just never had the opportunity to find out what that something is."

"But what if I can't do anything?"

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because if you can't do anything, you wouldn't be here. There are no mistakes in the grand scheme of things, Bumblebee. You are here because there is something that you bring to the world that nobody else does."

Ironhide and Bumblebee listened to Primus's words as the music swelled, and for a few sweet moments, they were content. Then the music ebbed away, and the younglings began to laugh and talk.

"They're finished. Come now. Let's have this talk."

He turned and opened a door that led down a set of stairs to another door. He tapped twice then the door slid open. The smiling faces that turned to greet him died away once they saw the mechs.

"What are they doing here?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"Listening to your music," Primus said. "And they are welcome any time. Remember, you're in my home, Sunstreaker. Please be courteous."

Sunstreaker relaxed. "Sorry." He paused then asked. "But what are they doing here? They never come here. They're too scared."

"You didn't get to hear the horror stories about what happened to those who were unworthy to enter," Ironhide said, crossing his arms. "Entirely different generation, youngling."

"But why are you here?" Sunstreaker pressed.

"We're here to talk to Silverstorm," Bumblebee said.

"He doesn't want to talk to you," Beachcomber said solemnly. "He doesn't want to talk to anybody, not even Primus. We don't see him unless we seek him out."

"He can't keep going on like this," Mirage said firmly.

"But I don't think he's ready to talk to any of them," Beachcomber said, gesturing at Ironhide and Bumblebee.

"Then we'll just talk to you today and come back to talk to him later," Bumblebee said. "Is Sam okay?"

"No!"

Everybody jumped and turned to stare at Primus as Primus took Bumblebee's hands. "He is not Sam anymore, nor is he Silverstreak. He is Silverstorm Prime. You must accept that. Do not call him either Sam or Silverstreak anymore. A slip of the glossa is one thing, but deliberately refusing to accept some very real changes in the life of a friend is not the way to go about it. Things will never be as they were when he was human or humanly-shaped."

Bumblebee stared at Primus then took his hands away. "Okay," he said in a small voice.

"Do you miss him like that?" Mirage asked.

"Yes," Bumblebee said. "But Primus is right, and things will never be the same again. We can't even go back to Earth. He'll never see his home planet again."

"Don't make assumptions," Primus said.

"So he will?" Bumblebee asked.

"I don't know, and I don't need to," Primus said. "But don't discount something happening in the future. Focus on the now, Bumblebee. You're so caught up in the past and future that you're missing the present."

Bumblebee shook his head, then he turned and left the room, going back up the stairs. Ironhide stared after him. "He's always so brave."

"Which is why he didn't tell you he was afraid," Primus said. "Now what have you got in that container?"

Ironhide smirked and set the container down before he pulled out several types of snacks. The younglings were suddenly very happy, and they busied themselves with the treat. Primus selected a hard wax oil candy, and he popped it into his mouth, savoring the crunch of the wax and the sweet, gooey tang of oil.

"These are some of my favorites," he admitted to Ironhide.

"Mine, too," Ironhide said, and he took one. After crunching on his candy, he hesitated. "Well, tell Silverstorm we came by. We don't want to intrude too much, so we'll head back. But if you need anything, just contact me."

He gave them his frequency, and Mirage nodded. "Thanks. We're at our wits' end trying to deal with him. He's so…"

"Depressed," Seaspray burbled sadly.

"It was hard coming from Optimus. Silverstorm's always looked up to him," Ironhide said.

"You'll come back?" Mirage asked.

"I don't know about Bumblebee, but if I'm welcome, I'll be back. I'll come check on you every day, if you'd like."

"That would be nice," Sideswipe said. "I kinda liked having full-growns around. It had been so long since we'd felt safe like that."

Ironhide smiled. "Then I'll try and bring others, too. I'd better be going. I think Bee's ready to go."

"Give him some time to think about what I said," Primus advised. "Don't push him yet. And please don't share it until he's ready."

"Of course," Ironhide said.

He took one more piece of candy then went up the stairs to find Bumblebee. He'd clearly been listening, as Ironhide could hear the younglings exclaiming over the candy as they picked through it. He held out the sweet treat to Bumblebee, who took it and smiled weakly.

"Ready to go?" Ironhide asked.

"Yeah. Let's go."

When they got outside and were strolling back to the shield, Ironhide placed a hand on Bumblebee's shoulder. "Bee? I'm scared of what's going to happen after the war, too."

Bumblebee glanced at him then gave a tiny smile and popped the wax candy into his mouth. "Thanks."

They headed back to base, both thinking about their first official meeting with Primus. It hadn't gone as they'd expected, but somehow, it made perfect sense.

"At least Silverstorm's in good hands," Bumblebee said softly.

Ironhide agreed. If anybody would know what to do about Silverstorm, it was Primus. But what would he do, and when? Neither had an answer.