I know they changed Epps's name between movies, so I tried to rectify it below. They also don't make crayons in those colors, but they are the colors of the original Optimus Prime. Epps really is my favorite character. NOTE THAT THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE THE CRACK IN OPTIMUS'S SPARK CHAMBER IS REPAIRED IN "TO SEE GODS BLEED".That is like having a tear in the sack around the heart (pericardium). This can be read standalone. Enjoy! Please read and review.
The hangar was quiet and deserted as Chief Master Sergeant Raymond Robert Epps stared down the length of the dead Prime's prone body. The Autobots had reluctantly acquiesced to Galloway's demand that the US government keep control of the Prime's mortal remains.
Ironhide's self-control astounded Epps, if they'd taken and kept his commander's body from him, be it Lennox or anyone else, no power on earth could have stopped him from taking them back by force.
No man was ever left behind, living or dead.
But somehow, the normally intractable Ironhide had played the diplomat and kept the peace among the Autobots. At the same time, Prime's body was taken away, even as the other Cybertronians glowered with murderous intent from behind the weapons specialist's broad shoulders.
Galloway had smirked triumphantly as the body processed away, secure in the knowledge that the Autobots would do nothing.
Epps couldn't remember the last time he'd ever wanted to break someone's jaw so badly.
Prime looked like he had been practically beaten to death before Megatron had finally finished the job. And, to add insult to injury, one of Galloway's pencil-necked desk jockeys had the audacity to complain about pieces of Optimus's shattered body left behind on the runway.
"Debris," the bastard had called it.
The anger blazing across Ratchet's face did not escape Epps's notice. Lennox had been livid enough that Epps wondered for a moment if he might actually resort to violence.
Before things could escalate further, he had stepped forward.
"Sir," Epps had called out to Galloway, the word bitter on his tongue, "if you will permit me, I will finish recovery and evacuation of the remains myself."
"Recovery and evacuation is for soldiers." Galloway had shot back. "Not alien combatants."
"Sir, protocol dictates that we are to aid and assist in the recovery and evacuation of our ally's dead. I will take care of it myself, Sir."
Reluctantly, Galloway had relented. Lennox gave him a grateful glance and nod as he followed along while the Autobots were ushered away under military custody, leaving Epps to set about gathering the shards. For lack of a better option, he placed them in his own emptied rucksack. Many were tattooed with pieces of familiar symbols matching the ones that had littered Optimus's features; one was clearly a rune from his ear, and the other was a broken piece of his shin.
It was in this fashion that Epps found himself standing before the armed guard that had been placed at the foot of the alien's body. In one hand, Epps carried the rucksack, heavy with the Prime's mortal remains, in the other, an envelope, hastily retrieved from his quarters, that was sealed and scrawled with a child's handwriting.
After a moment, he shoved the envelope in his pocket and braced himself for the task before him.
He exchanged salutes with the MP, who greeted him, seemingly embarrassed and apologetic. Epps had never seen him before. He looked young. Young and wet behind the ears.
"Sir, I am sorry, but cannot permit you to remain for more than a few minutes."
"I wouldn't have expected anything else." He muttered, more for his own benefit than for the young man in front of him.
Diego Garcia had always been an experiment, and as a result, protocol had always been a bit more unique than at any other military installation. Even so, orders were orders. It wasn't the MP's fault.
"You one of the new guys?" Epps asked, carrying the bag over to the pallet on which Prime rested.
"Just transferred in last week. Seems like I've got shit timing." The MP remarked. It wasn't an insult, just a statement of fact. Epps merely grunted in response, surveying the body and wondering what to do with the contents of the bag that weighed like the world in his hands.
"Did you know him well?" The MP ventured, gesturing toward Optimus.
"Better than most. Not as well as some." He said, thinking of Lennox. He turned to regard the lifeless body, lifting the piece of Optimus's cheek and placing it alongside his head.
"I don't know, man…I just... I always thought he'd be here long after I was gone." Epps remarked with a shake of his head.
"What was he like?" The MP ventured, emboldened with curiosityashe escorted Epps around the body.
"Nothing like you'd expect." Epps remarked, pulling an unidentifiable shard from the bag and resting it alongside Prime's limp hand.
The MP gave him a confused look.
"He wasn't cold or mechanical or anything like that. He loved his guys. Never saw a 'Con get a shot off on them when he was around. I think that was a point of pride for him...He cared about us humans, too."
A sad smile crept over Epp's face.
"If you knew Optimus, you knew this was bound to happen sooner or later…damn noble bastard." He glanced at the shattered piece of metal in his hands.
"He took a mortar shell for me, once." Epps added with an incredulous huff. "We were pinned down trying to minimize civilian casualties. Me and my team separated from the rest…I tell ya' man, when I heard that whistling shell, I knew we were goners, but then suddenly Prime was over top of us…."
Epps trailed off, glancing at where the shell had blown a hole in Prime's abdomen. Funnily enough, that was one of the only parts of his body that now remained intact.
"Optimus was out of commission for a week…He shouldn't have done that. It made no damn sense…he was probably as old as cavemen, and here he was…throwing himself on the line for me and the guys. Heh. Not really a surprise that he'd die for that damn Witwicky kid…."
He trailed off, lost in thought.
"I'm sorry I never really got to know him." The MP remarked in an attempt at sympathy.
"He really was something…" Epps said with a grunt as he placed the last piece of plating along Prime's shin.
The rucksack was empty now. Most of the pieces of Prime's body were laid out now around the pallet, close to where he thought they belonged. The remainder, he had left where he thought appropriate.
"You know, it ain't right." Epps said lowly. "It ain't right, us treating them this way."
The guard said nothing. He looked like he was biting his tongue to avoid being caught uttering a word of agreement.
Epps decided to continue on.
"You know, he was one of the first to congratulate me when my boy Fred was born…But he said it kind of sad somehow. I don't think they could have kids anymore, without that Cube thing…."
Now, he was monologuing, but what did it matter? The guard listened silently as Epps sighed.
"I dunno why…But he was curious about my kids. My family. Probably thought they were cute or something. I told him all about them. Showed him photos and everything."
Epps laughed lowly.
"You know…the funny thing is…I also told my kids about him, too. 'Course they don't know I'm talking about a giant alien robot. But I talked about one of the guys I worked with. One of the generals, and how he'd taken a bullet for me, even though I wasn't one of his guys."
Epps smiled fondly, and the MP gave a polite nod regarding the deceased giant. After a moment, the MP cleared his throat, obviously growing nervous about the consequences of allowing the Sergeant to linger.
"I'm sorry, Sir. But, if you're finished, I'm under orders to ensure you leave."
Epps rolled his eyes. "'Course you are." He muttered. "Can I at least have a moment alone to pay my respects?" He asked pointedly.
The MP nodded shortly. "Of course, Sir." He turned and strode toward the front of the hangar. Leaving Epps largely alone with nothing but the sound of the MP's echoing footsteps.
Epps's fingers fumbled with his pocket, finding the worn envelope within.
"Hey Big Buddha…" He said, using the Prime's call sign, as he stared up at the dead shattered face.
"I…uh…I was supposed to give this to you... I guess you could say I was saving it."
He pulled the red and blue covered paper from his pocket, pressing it between his grease-stained fingers. His callused hands unconsciously fidgeted with the flaps.
"It's from my girl, Shaniqua, her mama helped her write it… she didn't know who you were, but she wanted to thank you for having her dad's back."
He glanced down at the paper and realized by some ironic twist of fate that the childish crayon scrawled across it was written in red and blue. Prime's colors….
It was just a coincidence. Shaniqua loved those two colors, and it was imperative that whatever crayon box they bought had both "Cobalt Blue" and "Maximum Red" in the set.
But still. It was fitting, even if unintentional.
"I didn't really know what to do with it, but I know she wanted you to have it. I'm just sorry I didn't...it just seemed silly at the time…I didn't know what you'd even do with it."
He withdrew the letter and opened it in his hands, reading over his daughter's large, sloppy letters that his wife had painstakingly translated with block letters underneath.
Dear mr. sir,
my dady he says yu ar real big & strong. And that yu healp piple. Sumday I will be strong &
can help piple like yu. Thank yu for protacting Dady.
Shaniqua Epps, age 5
Below the letter was drawn a big red and blue stick figure with dots coming toward it, shielding a smaller red and blue figure on the other side that Epps knew was supposed to be him. His heart suddenly felt heavy and dull inside his chest.
"I'm going to give this to you now, Big Guy. I guess it's better late than never." Epps said quietly, leaning forward to tuck it between the plates of the Prime's chest panels until it was out of sight.
With that, he stood at attention and offered a stiff salute. He'd lost comrades before. Many of them. But none like Optimus. Humans were supposed to die, not Autobots.
"'Walk peacefully on heaven's streets,'" Epps recited under his breath, "'you've done your time in hell.'" He said it mostly because he didn't know quite what other words were adequate. He wasn't sure if there was a heaven. Let alone one for Transformers. But he knew for damn sure that,if any soldier belonged there, it was Optimus.
With that, he turned and strode away.
Days passed. Battles were fought. The earth was nearly lost. Optimus was resurrected.
In the ensuing chaos of their Egypt excursion, Epps all but forgot about the incident in the hangar bay.
All of the US government seemed to be in an uproar over the matter. Interview after interview was conducted. Mercifully, Lennox took the brunt of it. Epps was only asked to corroborate statements made by his commanding officers.
Poor Optimus, freshly resurrected and noticeably worse for the wear, had been forced to endure multiple grueling satphone meetings with General Morshower and the Joint Chiefs.
As a witness to the full lead-up to the Egypt events and one of the Autobot's primary liaisons, Epps had accompanied him to the latest of these conversations, in which they repeatedly asked Prime questions to which he either did not know the answer or he did not wish to answer. Lennox had unofficially charged him with acting as Prime's guard dog where he could, and to intervene, if at all possible, to smooth things over. And so, Epps sat and watched, silent for the majority of the conversation, except where he chimed in on matters where he had borne firsthand witness to things Optimus simply had not been there to see and observe.
Prime was ever stoic and diplomatically astute. But as the meeting wore on, Epps noticed subtle irregularities beginning to present themselves. Clicks and winces in Prime's optics when he turned. A hand resting unconsciously beneath his chest plates.
Whatever the kid had done had brought Optimus back, but it certainly hadn't healed him, not fully at least. He may have been walking, but he still looked like hell. He looked tired, tired and worn not only by the bureaucratic circus but by pain that Epps suspected loomed well-hidden beneath the surface.
Observing the Prime's growing exhaustion, Epps knew the conversation was not going to go anywhere further. Even so, it wouldn't do to embarrass him. Epps needed to simply wait for an opportunity to artfully disengage from the situation so that Prime could have the time to sort himself out. After a few more painful minutes of back and forth, Epps finally saw an opportunity and suggested they adjourn the meeting with some bullshit excuse or another, something about verifying coordinates records and radio logs.
To the Sergeant's satisfaction, the other attendees readily agreed. It seemed they were getting just as frustrated as he was.
As they ended the satellite connection, Prime shook his head with a huff. "Your government can be quite persistent, Sergeant Epps." Optimus remarked with no small amount of irritation. "But I am sure you knew that already."
"Yeah, they can be." Epps agreed, gathering his effects and turning to head out. It was getting late in the day, and his mind was already in the chow hall.
As Epps started to make his way for the hangar door, he heard Optimus's footsteps striding after him.
"Sergeant Epps…" The Prime rumbled. "…if I may have a moment of your time."
"Of course, what can I do for you?" Epps asked, turning to glance up at him.
"I believe I have something that belongs to you." The Prime said as he pulled something, seemingly out of thin air, and knelt stiffly, lowering an open palm to the confused soldier.
There, in his palm, was a dust and oil-covered envelope, with red and blue scribbles all over its surface.
"Oh." Epps said. His mouth going dry. "I uh…"
"I've scanned its contents, and believe this belongs to your daughter." The Autobot intoned. "I am unsure as to how it came into my possession but I thought it only right to return it."
"…Yeah, uh, it does…well, kind of…technically, it belongs to you…" He finally managed to say.
The Prime simply looked confused.
"But it was created by your offspring, was it not?" He rumbled. "Surely, it is of sentimental value?"
Epps sighed.
"No, that's true but I wasn't going to bother you with it, but I'm—I'd had it for a while, and I just didn't think it mattered to you…."
"You left it as a gift for me?" The Prime asked, his face still confused.
"No. I mean, yes, but it was it gift from my daughter. Look, Optimus, I'm sorry…I just…I didn't think you were coming back so I put it under your armor when you were…you know…"
"Dead." The Autobot supplied, seemingly still working over the problem in his mind.
"Yeah. Dead. And Shaniqua, she sent that for me to give to you a long time ago," he finally said, "and I just never did because I thought you might find it strange or disrespectful."
"Your daughter knows of me?"
Epps shook his head. "Only stories about an ally general. I don't tell her the good parts," he half-joked, attempting to introduce levity, "don't worry."
The Prime cocked his head, staring down at the envelope in his hand, a gesture which Epps took as permission to continue.
"It's just. When I gathered up all the…pieces…of you off the tarmac and took them to the hangar, I just thought—I just thought it was okay because you'd never see it. I'm sorry if I was out of line."
The Prime stared down at him silently.
"You…tended…to my remains?"
The Prime asked, something creeping into his electronic voice that Epps could not identify.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Epps said with a shrug. "I couldn't let them sweep you up for scrap."
He saw the Prime's jaw clench as indignation over Galloway's actions seemed to pass over his face like a cloud. But in a moment, it evaporated, his blue optics returning to focus on the envelope in his hands.
"Anyway…" Epps said, trying to diffuse the tension. "I'm sorry. It was dumb I just—"
"Thank you." The Prime cut him off. His voice was gentle. His eyes softened in seeming disbelief. "May I keep this?" Optimus asked, holding up the envelope as if it was as precious as rubies or gold.
"I mean…sure…if you want to." Epps stammered as Optimus closed his fist, and the envelope seemed to evaporate once more.
"Thank you for the service you have done me, Sergeant Epps." Optimus intoned. "And please, tell your child thank you, as well. It is..." The Prime seemed to search for words. "It is quite touching."
"Don't mention it." Epps said awkwardly, unsure what else to say back.
Seemingly satisfied, the Prime rose back up, implicitly giving Epps leave to be dismissed. The Sergeant turned but, after a moment, looked over his shoulder and called out to him.
"And Optimus…" He hollered as the Autobot leader turned. "Please, take care of yourself." Epps considered saying more, but bit his tongue instead. That was above his paygrade. And it wouldn't do to insult the Autobot by implying he needed some kind of mothering. He had no doubt that, given a little time, Optimus would be alright. He always had been before, and Epps had no reason to think he wouldn't be again.
As Epps glanced back, he could have sworn the Prime's eyes softened once more, but the Autobot only nodded softly in acknowledgment.
With that, the human walked away, and Epps's mind returned to dreams of Salisbury steak and mushy peas. It was chow grub. But at least it wasn't MREs.
The poem Epps recites in part is called 'The Final Inspection,' I am unsure as to its origins. Please read and review. The moral of the story is: be kind to the living, not only the dead. Tell people you care before it is too late. If you liked this story, also read, "My Legacy," and "To See Gods Bleed." They are from Prime's and Lennox's points of view, respectively. Again, to be clear, this takes place before 'To See Gods Bleed.' Epps tends to see Optimus as a superior officer more than anything, which is what I went with here. I am not trying to paint Epps as uncaring, just someone who doesn't feel like he has the standing to do much for Optimus.