To Have a Spark
There is No All-Spark
"Death most resembles a prophet who is without honour in his own land or a poet who is a stranger among his people."
-Khalil Gibran
Optimus Prime stood on the summit of the mesa that housed Omega One. The rain drenched him, but he didn't care. He ignored the thunder, the lightning, the wet earth and stone beneath his peds. Brilliant blue optics widened, locking onto his quarry. For a second, the mech stood frozen, unable to process what was directly in front of him. A being that could wilfully harm itself. Why? How? Would instinct to survive not surface? Or was the instinct somehow forcibly eradicated? Optimus moved in the next second, barely aware that he was murmuring to himself as massive hands swept up their prize. In one, he cradled the human and in the other, his fingers gingerly pinched around the phial.
"Primus, please please please, do not do this. Hold on, just hold on..."
It wasn't easy to wait the thirty seconds for the Ground-bridge to meet him up there. It was agreed that the Prime would transform as little as possible, given what he was bearing. He almost ran through the glowing portal when it finally appeared and no one in the base questioned the faint stains on his face, diluted by the rain. The Prime knelt when a gurney rolled to him, placing his cargo upon it. June took the phial. She couldn't analyse it here, so she watched as the Prime and Ratchet bore a suicidal teenager to the medical bay, fighting to ensure his survival. As they worked, connecting intravenous feeds and monitor lines, she turned her back. She couldn't watch this for another time.
Optimus stepped back, allowing Ratchet to do what he did best. It wasn't long before he noticed the woman seemingly frozen beside him. The Prime's rumbling baritone carried through the base now at something just above a whisper. There was fear in his voice and he knew it. He had lived for many aeons by now, had seen many things that would frighten so many others. Yet here he was, fear finding a place in his voice.
"Nurse Darby. You seem...troubled."
"I...I am, Optimus. I can't do this again," June responded.
"Do you care to speak of it?" He could do this. He could ask. He could be the strong one. He had to be, for he was the Prime. Quietly, he led the human to the other side of the room. June sank onto the couch, her left hand clutching the phial as if it held some dirty secret.
"I've seen this kid admitted to the hospital more than once this past year. The first time was mid-year last year. Optimus, this isn't the first time he's tried to do this to himself. The first time, I found rope-burns around his neck."
Optimus kept silent, only offering a nod to invite her to continue.
"A month later, another call came in. He had cut himself. The scary thing was that he knew how to do it properly. It wasn't amateurishly done. He knew. He did the research. I had to put stitches into both of his arms that day. As the months went by, he kept on coming in, each time doing more and more harm to himself. And each time, he got thinner. Paler. He refused to eat. I'd suggest counselling but he'd never say a word. He'd just give me this look as if I was the crazy one, not him."
"Is there a treatment for this? He sounds...disturbed," the Prime felt a brief, strange urge to scratch his helm in thought.
"He is disturbed, Optimus! No rational human would do this to himself. I – I need to analyse this. Find out what it is."
"Nurse Darby. Perhaps we can do that here. Whatever it is, I can tell you that his bloodstream is saturated with it," Ratchet's voice called from the medical bay. With his back turned, he didn't see Prime or June come to join him. She wordlessly offered the phial up to the medic. Her hands trembled, compelling the Prime to offer his hand. She could at least sit and regain herself. Prime tried to offer comfort by gently wrapping a finger around her as he lifted the human to better see Ratchet's monitors.
The medic grumbled, peering intently as a sample of the phial's residue was taken under a slide. The reading came out as if yin and yang were suddenly turned in on themselves, as if this was something so utterly foreign it couldn't be understood. And then the halves were pieced together.
"Primus, what is this? Lead...arsenic...I can't tell what this third component is. Organic matter..."
"Belladonna," June Darby clung to Optimus' finger. The formula was haphazard, a complete guess as to the amount of each component. Yet it was familiar and she thought back to her days in nursing school. Medical history wasn't her favourite subject. Still, various toxins had been covered, both natural and man-made and their effects on the human body. Several formulae had been lost to history, including this one.
"Are these not toxic to humans?" Ratchet asked.
"Yes. Very. This is disgusting. Why would-"
"Nurse Darby, is this a combination you've seen before?" The Prime's optics shifted down.
"Once. During my residency, historical poisons were covered, but this was lost to history. No one knows how these were put together any more, but the combination says one thing: Aqua Tofana. It was first noted by a noblewoman in Renaissance Italy. She used it to poison her husband and political enemies. I...never thought anyone would try to make the stuff this day and age."
"So how do we treat this? It's as if he's saturated himself with it!" The medic's voice had raised a little, fighting a slow, growing panic.
"I don't know...The hospital might have physostigmine for the belladonna, but the metals... How did he even get hold of those?!"
"Optimus, all we have is energon. Energon and water. That can't be enough, can it?" The medic's voice shuddered a little. He shook his helm and clenched his dentae.
The Prime considered. "Nurse Darby. Bring us your physostigmine, if you can. We will try to flush him of the metals ourselves. We have little time to work with."
The Prime gently let her down off of his hand. Without another word, June Darby raced to her car, then roared out of the base.
"You know that healing the body won't be enough, don't you?" Ratchet frowned at the Prime. Both 'Bots wondered if June could get back with the antitoxin. Neither asked.
They waited in absolute silence for half an hour. Ratchet's optics remained fixed on the screens above his patient and for the first time, he wondered if they shouldn't surrender him to human care entirely.
The half-hour ended with the roar of June Darby's vehicle returning to base. Neither Ratchet, nor the Prime cared that they let out what could be described as a sigh of relief.
"Ratchet, I managed to get one dose. Can you work with that?" The nurse briskly walked up to the medic, tools in hand.
"Will one be enough?"
"We'll have to find out. I had to...fudge the truth at the desk to get this."
June passed a human-sized syringe up to Ratchet and watched him work. For a being with hands as large as his, the medic displayed only surety, deftly administering the first part of treatment to his inert patient. For the rest, he wondered what they would have to do. It was on this that the Prime spoke.
"Ratchet. Nurse Darby. I understand that none of us are experts into how the mind, human or Cybertronian, works. But, I believe we do not have the luxury of human mind-physicians or the time they would need."
"I'm inclined to agree, Optimus, but what can we do? As a medic, I cannot in good conscience physically treat this human and let him out there on his own," Ratchet looked to June and spoke for them both upon her silent nod of approval.
"Before I voice a suggestion, Ratchet, Nurse Darby, I shall request that everyone be present. I will not voice it until then. I do not wish to cause alarm, but everyone must understand what we are dealing with."
s=
The air in the Darby house felt heavy. Three children sat on the couch torn between weeping and throwing something in frustration. Outside, they knew comfort in that their guardians were there, watching each other's backs. None of them though, could get the images and discoveries of the past day out of their heads. The children drifted from silence into shaken conversation.
"Raf, it'll be okay. The 'Bots got to him," the black-haired boy tried, but failed, to smile.
"I know, it's just.. I wonder if we could have done things differently," Raf replied. His lightly spiked brown hair wafted as his head turned first to Jack, then to Miko.
"What do you mean?"
"No one ever talked to him, except that bully Vince. Even the teachers seemed nervous around him," Miko punched her palm, eyes narrowed as she mentioned Vince. "I don't think it was him. I think it was the rumours. Rumours of evil practises and creepy rituals. I know they're bunk but who in Jasper has met a Pagan?"
"Miko, you're Buddhist aren't you?" Jack offered.
"Yeah. It's not quite the same thing, but there are similarities. We're kind of a minority here, Jack. Minorities get attacked by white, suburban kids in this country. And if you're handicapped, it's even worse. Japan went through a jerk phase too..." Miko didn't like admitting hard truths.
"You have a point. When he came out of the office that day, I think everyone saw a vulnerability."
"What if we talk to this kid when Ratch' gets done saving his neck?" Jack, Miko and Rafael nodded to one another, embracing briefly. It was strange, disturbing to think that in relative inaction, something could have been avoided. Such heaviness was lightened when each recalled their own memories. Coming through now was going to count big-time.
Miko's cell phone rang.
The trio went out to meet their guardians and return to base.
Show time.