To Have a Spark
Mission Motherland
"In reality, we are all travellers – even explorers of mortality."
-Thomas S. Monson
The sight that met the other Autobots and their charges as they entered the base was almost normal. Except not. Ratchet almost hunkered down beside his patient, June on the catwalk above him. The patient lay like a dead man, save for the numerous tubes and lines connected to him. Keeping him alive. Fighting to flush his body of the poisons he had tainted himself with. Once the children were out and the others Transformed, the group gathered around their Prime. He stood tall, appearing like he always did, as if he could take on the world and come out unscathed. And yet something was different about him, a crack in the impenetrable armour.
The base was silent. No one greeted Agent Fowler as he entered through the human-sized elevator. For once, even the loud-mouth had nothing to say. Fowler had seen the medical records. He had turned up family information on the stranger in their midst.
"I understand that this is not something we Autobots typically get involved in. This should be a human affair. However, we found this human atop Omega One and witnessed him inflict great harm, possibly with intent to..." The Prime hesitated. The thought of saying his next words put a foul taste in his mouth.
For a moment, Agent Fowler thought he saw the Prime hold back a gag reflex.
"This kid tried to kill himself," Fowler stepped in.
Miko, Jack and Rafael silently held onto one another.
Ratchet didn't make a sound when Bulkhead half-sat and half-fell onto a tool, crushing it. The ubiquitous cry of "I needed that!" didn't echo through the base. Arcee turned her back, face in her hands. Bumblebee simply stood there, unable to process what he'd just heard. As Fowler gave Optimus a quick glance, the 'Bot responded with a slow nod. He found he couldn't speak now. Within the core of himself, the Prime fought down the urge to empty his tanks.
And lost.
Without a word, Optimus managed to hold himself to walking out of the main room. The sound of someone losing his lunch was universal. When the Prime returned, there was a distinct shuffle to his steps.
"Suicide. It's never pretty. Thirty-thousand people end their own lives in a given year. Most from emotional trauma or psychological impact. Nurse Darby, I brought up the records of this Renalt Haakon kid-" the somewhat portly Army Ranger took up an explanation. Retired he may be, that didn't mean he'd lost his touch.
"Thirty thousand...?" No one begrudged the Prime as his deep voice echoed the statistic in shock.
"So why is he doing this to himself?" Ratchet was the first to spit the question out amid his own desire to settle his innards.
Fowler said nothing. Meeting Nurse Darby, he handed over a thick manilla folder and watched dispassionately as she read off the file. Only three names into it, the nurse hesitated, noting this "Sworn Brother"'s date of death. Her eyes lifted, meeting Fowler's gaze. The special agent frowned, glancing at the others in the base. He noted the children's faces go pale. He missed a tear that tracked its way down Miko's face.
"Name: Renalt Carwyn Haakon III
Age: 15
Sex: Intersex / Assigned male at birth
Father: Renalt Carwyn Haakon, Jr. (Deceased)
Mother: Meredith Carisse Haakon née Sierra
Sworn Brother: Leonard Rhys Iscalia (Deceased)..."
"This Leonard guy...He died last year. Last year, when...He came out of the office," Rafael murmured.
"Agent Fowler. What did this Leonard Iscalia perish from?" Ratchet and Optimus spoke almost in unison. They silenced upon Fowler's raised hand. He gave a sigh.
"There's been a conflict in Cambodia that has been going on for several years now and some of our men were reassigned. Leonard was newer, but they sent him over. First tour of duty. There was a dengue fever outbreak. Dengue can get serious, going into dengue hemorrhagic fever. Some guys were hit harder than others. Some died. He was one of them," Fowler shuddered a little, recalling the case reports.
"Agent Fowler, what's this stuff about a 'sworn brother'? I've never heard of that on anyone's legal documents before," Raf almost choked out the question.
"Apparently he identified himself as a somewhat eclectic 'crooked-path Pagan'. Basically, that means that he had blended some branches of Western witchcraft and a few Asian indigenous practise into one amalgamated belief system. While unusual, it's common among Pagans to have a full diaspora of deities and figures of worship. Not that I consider that a real religion, but-"
"Agent Fowler!" The Prime's voice cut him off in a low roar. "I will not permit you or anyone else to demean the cultural practises of anyone that do no harm. Does not your law protect him as equally as yourself?"
Fowler had the good grace to blush.
"Miko. You mentioned a form of ritual suicide. I was under the impression that such rituals are done with the blade, are they not?" Prime continued.
"Yeah, usually. But if you can't get at a blade, there are...other ways. Ways that are considered a last resort, ways that some consider less honourable. He must've thought he had no other alternative," Miko turned away then, not wishing anyone to see the tears that threatened to follow the first. Her pink-highlighted odango bobbed as she spoke.
"Optimus. We need to purge him now if there's to be any chance," Ratchet looked stern. Time was ticking away.
Not noticing the silence that fell around them, Ratchet, Optimus and June surrounded their patient. The Prime wordlessly extended an arm. They had energon to spare but that which ran through Cybertronian chassis was already cleaned of the impurities present in energon ore deposits. Optimus' war-mask clipped into place as Ratchet drew the sample. June darted around the 'Bots to hook a large water bag to the second IV tube. They had one chance at this.
She had wanted to take her patient to the hospital at first, recognising the need to cleanse him as rapidly as possible. Her rationale however, crumbled when she realised just how far they were from Jasper's medical facility. They didn't have half an hour or more to squander in transport.
The others soon drifted to join them in the medical bay. Each kept to his or her own thoughts, some asking why or how. Others wondered if this Renalt was somehow "crackers", as Miko had put it. The Prime stood in silence, mulling over what he had learned. It spawned an idea within, one even he was reluctant to voice. Still, what options did they have? The Cybertronian sounded like he took a breath.
"Autobots...I have a proposal. I am not fond of it myself, but I believe our options are limited enough that this may be the only viable path. I wish to employ a modified cortical psychic patch," Optimus shuddered voicing that thought.
"A what's-it?" Miko chimed in.
"A cortical psychic patch. It was developed by Decepticons during the war to extract information from captives. It was outlawed by Autobots long ago," Ratchet explained.
"How does it work?" Fowler's voice held a slight tremble.
"Two participants, willing or not, connect via a port in the back of their helms. A specific cable provides the connection and opens up the processors of both individuals, allowing a one- or two-way path to communication. Optimus, I may know the literature, but are you certain? This is a technique used between Cybertronians-"
"So how can you use that on a human? Is it even ethical? What will it do to you?" June Darby glared up at her Autobot companions, fear backing up the indignation she felt as a medical practitioner.
"Exactly, Optimus," Ratchet came back. The medic watched the monitors as antitoxin, energon and water came together, diluting a usually powerful element, and streaming it through a human's body. It was less impressive than the treatment Rafael had received to purge him of dark energon, but there was a definitely visible change. Renalt's skin seemed to dye a peculiar shade of blue that didn't quite glow when light shone at some angles against him.
Without waiting for a response, Ratchet backed away, ushering the others out of the medical bay. No one liked the Prime's idea. No one relished the fact that no, time was not necessarily on their side. It took more than keeping flesh alive. It took an inner will to keep going and by all accounts, Renalt had lost such a will. Lost the desire to keep going.
"I will think further upon this if you wish me to, Autobots. I request you do the same, but do not take too long. A stranger's life is still a life."
The Prime fixed his powerful gaze on everyone within the base. They knew he meant business and watched him turn to go to his own room. There was much to face and little time to face it in. The humans moved to their own section. June wondered secretly what kind of paradoxes these Cybertronians really were. They had endured horrors only veterans could dream up. They had lost their very world. They had faced down evils she couldn't fathom; they had essentially faced a god and won.
And yet, they had retained an innocence all their own. She only hoped that this event wouldn't strip them of it entirely.