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Things Unsaid
The sun was descending towards the western sea, painting the sky brilliant
orange and bloody red. These colors matched perfectly with the color scheme
of the giant robot perched on the cliff edge, staring aimlessly out at
the far horizon. Only a wink of yellow here and there made him stand out
in the evening light.
Hot Rod sighed. He'd come several hundred miles from Autobot City,
hoping to be alone, and to some extent, it had worked. There wasn't another
intelligent soul for miles, unless you counted the seagulls currently squabbling
over fish. It hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped, though. His rapidly
spinning thoughts were no calmer out here then back in the City, among
hundreds of Autobots. Still, the press of the crowds had been too much.
He'd had to get away from all the people.
_One person in particular,_ he admitted to himself. It was a miracle,
one of his fondest dreams come true-- Optimus Prime was back. For good
this time, not simply as a Quintesson trick. Prime was back, leading the
Autobots, and Rodimus Prime could go back to being plain old Hot Rod, just
as he'd always wanted.
That hadn't changed, at least. The burden of leadership had never sat
well on his shoulders, even though he'd come to terms with what it meant
and what his responsibilities were. But leading in Prime's shadow had never
been easy, and it had sometimes been an uphill battle just to keep his
troops' respect.
"And you finally blew it good, didn't you?" he declared. "Led the entire
Autobot command right into the hate plague, and then got infected with
it yourself." The events of the time he'd spent under the influence of
the strange virus were somewhat distorted in his memory, but the fight
in the junkyard was all too clear.
Hod Rod buried his face in his hands. He'd been leading the Throttlebots
on a merry chase, enjoying the feeling of pure FREEDOM that came with not
caring about anybody else. Then, after dropping a junk pile on their heads,
he'd transformed, and come face to face with Optimus.
A small smile crossed his face as he recalled that moment. Despite
the hatred the plague had surging through him, seeing Optimus had sent
one moment of pure joy and disbelief through his circuits. All he'd been
able to do was stutter out an "I thought you were dead" before the hate
came rushing back. Then...
Sighing, Hot Rod lay back in the cool grass, staring at the rapidly
darkening sky. Optimus had tried to talk him down, but he hadn't wanted
to listen. They'd fought throughout the junkyard and foundry, Optimus desperately
trying to get him to pay attention. Unfortunately, he'd been at the mercy
of his spiraling emotions. The last thing he remembered was a powerful
punch to the jaw... and the expression of pure regret on Optimus' face.
When he'd awakened, the plague was gone, eradicated by the Matrix. That
artifact was now only a shell, its wisdom exhausted. The universe was safe...
and Optimus
was home.
Since that time, Hot Rod had only been able to face the other Autobot in the most professional of situations. Even then, he'd had trouble meeting the other's eyes. Optimus had chosen Ultra Magnus as his successor, not Hot Rod. For some reason though, the Matrix had only responded to him. Still, Hot Rod always felt like a second-string leader, and he dreaded seeing the same opinion reflected in Optimus's eyes.
"Room for one more?" a deep voice inquired, startling Hot Rod out of
his thoughts. Turning, the young Autobot was unsurprised to see his leader
standing behind him. Optimus Prime looked as impressive as ever in the
light of the sunset, his original color scheme now painted over the white
alloy that coated his body.
"I guess so," Hot Rod replied, moving over slightly. Optimus lowered
himself to sit on the cliff, not without a grunt or two. Between resurrection,
the journey for the alloy, and the fight in the junkyard, the older Autobot
was still a bit stiff.
"This is a nice place. Do you often come out here?" Optimus asked,
his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Hot Rod nodded, looking in the same direction. "Yeah. I found it a
little after... you know. Good place to think, and to get away from everybody
who thinks their problem needs my PERSONAL attention." He grinned. "Lucky
for me, Ultra Magnus volunteered to screen my calls."
Optimus laughed. "Yes, he did something similar for me on occasion."
There was silence for a long moment. "You're not the only one who's been
looking for places to think. Everyone who was infected with the hate plague--
which means most of the
Autobot army-- has been curled up in one refuge or another. Even Sky
Lynx is quiet-- no bragging to be heard."
"There's a shocker," Hot Rod snorted. "I don't blame him, though. It
was... a very unnerving experience."
"Tell me about it?" Optimus invited quietly.
Hot Rod sighed. "It was like-- everything I'd ever been angry about
in my life just welled up inside me. I hated everyone and everything in
the world. Morgan and Swafford for loosing this thing on us, the Decepticons
just for functioning, Ultra Magnus for giving me such a hard time after
being infected, and being stuffy in general, Springer-- well, I had my
reasons." The young robot chuckled ruefully. "Hell, Optimus, I even hated
YOU."
"Why? And don't tell me it was the plague-- I know that. What reasons
did it stir up?"
Hot Rod darted a glance at his mentor, trying to decide how to answer.
The look of calm expectation on Optimus' face said that evasion would be
practically impossible. Quickly, he looked back out at the ocean.
"A lot of reasons, I guess. The biggest one? For leaving me, not just
once, but twice. Losing you the first time was bad, but... watching you
fly that shuttle towards the sun--" He broke off, shaking his head. "I
hated you for dying, basically. For leaving me to lead the Autobots, which
wasn't something I wanted or knew how to do. For just... not being there
when I wanted to talk, or needed someone to listen." He shrugged. "Stupid,
huh?"
"No, not at all. I'm sorry, Rodimus. That sort of pain was something
I never wanted to inflict on you."
"Why are you still calling me that?" Hot Rod asked suddenly. "I'm not
Rodimus Prime anymore. The Matrix is empty and you're in charge again."
Fixing the younger Autobot with a steady blue gaze, Optimus began to
speak. "People don't change at the will of some magical talisman, Rodimus.
It's a long, slow process, and it comes from inside. The Matrix made you
larger and a bit stronger, but it didn't make you who you are. You did
that. As far as I'm concerned, you earned the name 'Rodimus Prime,' and
that's not something that will change just because you gave up the Matrix."
Dropping his eyes, Hot Rod quickly turned back towards the horizon,
where the sun was just beginning to touch the water. Beside him, Optimus
continued, almost speaking to himself.
"I thought about passing the Matrix to you, you know. I knew you had
the potential to be a great leader, better than Ultra Magnus. He can command
in battle, but he's never been one to inspire the troops. In the end, though,
I couldn't do it. I wanted you to have just a little longer as just a soldier.
Youth never really lasts long enough." For a moment, Optimus' voice was
tinged with memories, then he continued.
"I realized when we met again, when the Quintessons revived me, that
things hadn't gone quite as I'd anticipated. But my mind was so scrambled
that I could barely concentrate on anything. There were so many things
I wanted to say, but I couldn't get any of them out. When we faced off
in the control room, I knew that the things I'd seen in you were only the
surface, and that the Autobots were in the best hands they could have.
It made it much easier to die, then."
"Guess the junkyard was quite a disappointment then, huh?" Hot Rod
asked quietly.
Optimus shook his head. "No. I've seen you fight, Rodimus. If you'd
wanted to, you could have killed me. You were holding back, even with the
hate plague warping your mind. You're far stronger than you give yourself
credit for. I'm proud of you."
"You are?" Hot Rod's head shot up, his optics wide with surprise.
"You managed to lead the Autobots despite Quintesson threats and your
own fears. You've even negotiated a couple of peace treaties, I hear. Yes,
Rodimus, I'm very proud of you. I always have been."
"Thanks, Optimus. That... means a lot to me." No more words were spoken,
as two Autobots watched the last of the day fade into night.