- Tied winner for Most Creative Plot Idea and runner-up for Most Thought-provoking '04

Released

By: Sapphire

Writer's Note:  This fic is set on Cybertron. It is in no way related to the After Earth of Uprising series, however my idea of Cybertron is similar.  One last thing: when Optimus returned home, he reverted back to his Transmetal form, as Optimal Optimus would have been too big and clumsy for the life he wanted to live.

Her face was pale like the white walls of the institution.  Her eyes were black and cold, almost corpse like, but they contrasted to the twisted contortions of agony on her face as she wailed and slammed her palms against the glass door.

"He's only a boy.  Let him out!  You're killing him by keeping him here.  I see it every visit!  You are destroying my son!"

On the other side of the glass, the scientist watched her helplessly.  His expression remained still, clinical and uncaring, but inside he felt an all too familiar shiver of regret.  Yet, his answer was always the same.

"We're not keeping him here to destroy him; we're keeping him here to prevent him from destroying others and possibly himself."

"No!" she yelled in protest but she weakened and slowly began to sink to her knees, face down, crying.  

"No no no," she murmured, now kneeling, her head resting against the cold glass.

He watched her for some time and realized that she wasn't going to move while there was still hope.  She was hoping her display of emotional trauma might get to him and he'd reconsider.  It was a futile attempt - he'd seen it many times before.  And besides, it wasn't up to him.  Bots like her son were brought in here and detained by officers in the Cybertronian United Army.  This was the institution where all who had committed murder and other foul injustices were kept and they were kept like this for one reason: they were insane.  Not just off the ball, not just a little whacked, they were totally and utterly crazy, unaware of what they were doing.  There were various degrees. Some were kept in cells and tested with various drugs and were subject to experiments intended to make them better.  So far, none of the experiments had worked, but they kept trying.  

Her son was one of the lab rats because he'd only recently started displaying symptoms and thus they thought he had a chance of being brought back.  The scientist wanted to tell her she was lucky he wasn't up another level on the insanity scale.  He could have been disembodied, his spark put into quarantine and his shell frozen in a mortuary.  She had never seen the rows of tanks kept in the dark basement.  They hummed with life-support systems and inside, the spark floated about aimlessly, unable to break through its prison.  They couldn't kill these bots, for their excuse was their insanity, and thus all they could do was hold them.

"Your next visit is scheduled in two weeks," he said finally and turned around and left.  He felt he was in a cell of his own.  Every room was sealed in case of a breach and his lab was no exception.  It was a lonely job and oftentimes he felt like a prison warden.  He saw the faces of the patients - they were cold and lifeless and haunting.  He could never shake the feeling that they were studying him, every time he passed their glass cells.  Their arms and legs may have been bound, they may have been restricted to only moving their eyes and following him with them as he made his rounds - but their minds were more alive than ever.  Like zombies they stared and stared and he feared even to guess what went through their crazed minds.

Optimus opened the door and was greeted by a gush of warm air and light.  The night was cold and his street was badly lit.  He flew home - having a flight mode - but even for the few seconds he spent fumbling with his keys on his doorstep, he felt chilled and uneasy.  It wasn't that he lived in a bad neighborhood, it was just that he felt he was always being watched.  Stalked by an enemy.  He'd never be able to shake the feeling, a feeling which he'd suffered for five years since his return to Cybertron.  Doctors had diagnosed his condition as post-war neurotics and he had reluctantly agreed with them.  He kept these feelings quiet.  He didn't want to worry or upset his family over the imaginary fears of a war veteran.

He stepped inside to the noise of chatter coming from the sitting room, along the wall to his right.  He put his keys on a side table by the door and then closed it, making doubly sure it was locked.

"Optimus?"

The voice echoed down the hall and he returned the call with his usual: "Yes, it's me."

He made his way to the sitting room and entered.  His two kids were playing cards on the table and his wife was cleaning their weapons cabinet.  He took pride in calling it theirs.  His wife had been an officer in the air force when he met her three years ago.  She was very good at what she did and was renowned for fighting against a small but powerful Predacon rebellion in South Cybertron.  She'd retired a year ago when the second of their children was born.

"Hey," she said with a smile, pausing in her cleaning.

"Hi Shana."  He turned with his hands on his hips.  "Hi kids."

"You cheated!  You always cheat."

"Shut up, Zaq.  You're just a sore loser."

Optimus shook his head.  There was no talking to his son and daughter when they were arguing with each other.

He sighed and walked over to Shana.

"How was work?" she asked.

"Fine, fine.  How was your day?"

"Okay, I guess.  Today's a school holiday.  I had to put up with their griping all day, which got considerably worse when I asked them to help clean the house.  I don't know how we're going to sell it when it constantly looks a wreck."

Optimus chuckled.  He'd made his house a wreck when he was a teenager.  He saw it as a battlefield, and airbase, another planet...whatever his imagination made it to be.  Furniture became space ships, tables and chairs became enemies and various household objects, the ammunition.  He still remembered and therefore understood what she meant, and what it meant to his children too.

"It'll be all right in the end," he said eventually.

"You always say that," she sighed.

He shrugged.

"So far, I've always been right."

She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile.

"Yes, yes you're never wrong."

She got back to her cleaning and he decided to leave her to it.

He exited the room and headed into the kitchen, feeling the need for some energon recharge blocks.  It had been a long day.

The lights were off in the kitchen.

"Megatron's forces will use cover of darkness for their attack.  I suggest we switch to Infra red."

"I can't.  That hit I took from Inferno on my head did more than just give me a headache.  My vision's as good as a mole at the moment."

He inhaled deeply.

"Lights on."

They flickered on and everything in the kitchen was revealed.  He felt better in the light.

He opened a cupboard and took out some energon cubes.  He held them both in his hands and gazed at them.  He'd fought a war over these shimmering things.  An entire war which evolved into a fight for an entire race.  Incredible.  It amazed him they still won in the end.  

With a gentle sigh, he left the kitchen (leaving the lights on) and made his way to their bedroom.  He flopped down in his favourite chair beside a table set up for recharge.  He could sleep and recharge but he had computerwork still to do so he'd have to recharge sitting up.  He set up his energon feeder and laptop and switched on the television.  A half hour later, he wasn't even sure what was on, because he hadn't been paying attention.  Instead, he'd been trying to figure out in his mind if moving house was the best thing.  He'd had a job offer at an airbase further south and the pay was better.  The neighborhood was well protected, being close to a military base and there was a good school there.  He'd even found a house which seemed perfect for them.  Only one thing bothered him.

It was close to the asylum Megatron was kept in.

He figured he would never get over the Beast Wars completely, but this was just absurd.  He was gripped with a deep, raw fear of him that stemmed from his last encounter with the tyrant.  He remembered landing, five years ago, at a Cybertron space port.  He'd already sent out a call before grounding his ship that he had a very dangerous passenger strapped onboard.  Police had been waiting for him when he brought the Ark's miniature shuttle in.  Almost immediately after landing, they'd seized Megatron.  They'd bound him properly and totally disarmed his dragon head.  Optimus and the rest of his crew had stood watch as they hustled him to a cyber car nearby.  He remembered Rattrap saying: "He's got dat look in his eye.  Da look only crazy people have."

After that, Rattrap and the others reported to a room where a senior officer was waiting to speak with them.  Optimus had lingered behind a few moments and now he regretted bitterly that he had.  For as Megatron passed him by, bound but still proud, he'd said: "I'll come back for you, Optimus Primal.  It's never over."  And then he was taken away and Optimus hadn't seen him since.  There was nothing profound in that sentence, but he knew Megatron never said anything without backing it up with actions.  That was what frightened him.  He'd never found out what happened to Megatron.  Only that he was being held in an institution for the mentally deranged.

"...Megatron."

He lifted his head sharply at the name.  On television, there was a historical documentary on about the Great War.  They were talking about the original Megatron, but it was still unnerving to hear the name out loud, especially after he'd been thinking about it.  He held back on calling it uncanny, otherwise he'd be sounding ridiculous.

Still, he switched off the television and settled for gazing out his window at the stars.

"No, Megatron.  It is over."

He wished he could say that with conviction.

"D'you hear that?"

Spike looked up.

"Hear what?"

His fellow guard rose to his feet with a frown.  

"I could have sworn I heard something moving downstairs."

"Downstairs?  Ray, do you even know what's downstairs?"

The two guards were on shift on level one.  They guarded the cells on this floor.  Their job was to sit outside the entrance to the floor, while inside another two guards made patrols.  They'd been doing the same job for months and nothing ever happened.  They'd never had to check something out, they'd never been confronted by anyone hostile.  They had a boring job, but it was preferable to walking down the corridor getting crazed looks from the cell occupants.  They'd never been anywhere but level one.  They entered the institution everyday and the first thing they did was get into the elevator and report to their duty on this level.  They had a little knowledge of the rest of the building, but most of it remained a mystery to them.

Ray held his hand up for silence and Spike hushed up.  Both listened intently.  A few tense moments later, both of them heard a slight noise coming from the level below.

"Oh, yeah.  I heard that."

Ray cast him a worried glance.

"No one guards that area, do they?"

Spike nodded.

"It's a basement.  There's no need to guard it because..."

"Because what?" Ray pressed.

Spike shifted nervously.

"Because it's just a chamber full of disembodied sparks.  They're in containers.  There's no way they can get out and the area is totally sealed off."

Ray stared at him incredulously.

"You mean, no one ever goes down there?  Even to check?"

Spike shrugged.

"Only the scientists to check the life support systems.  They have a routine check every day at noon."

The two suddenly stared at each other, wide-eyed with shared realization.

Spike checked his watch.

"It's midnight."

"No one should be there," Ray whispered.

Spike got to his feet and clutched his pistol.

"I think we ought to go check it out."

Ray nodded and readied his gun.

"How do we get there?"

"There's another elevator on this floor.  I've only seen it once but I know it's the only way to access the chamber."

Ray took a deep breath, trying to hide his growing sense of unease.

"Okay.  Then let's go."

The chamber was dark.  Along its walls were many black containers with glass screens.  They looked almost like rows of television sets, except behind the glass - well, a substitute for glass that was resistant to energy pulses - hovered a spark.  This was the cause for the eerie blue light, dull though it was, that lit the floor of the chamber.  Connected to each of these containers was a small machine which provided life-support for the sparks.  Collectively, the machines made a low hum, like a swarm of bees in the distance.

There was never movement in this chamber, unless one of the scientists was checking the machines.  For most of the day it lay dormant.  The sparks hardly moved and the tiny red and green lights of the machines flickered only occasionally.

Tonight was different.  Tonight there was movement.  A dark figure was crouched over one of the containers, fiddling with its locked roof hatch with some tools.

The figure belonged to a male transformer who was cloaked in a temporary black paint to help conceal himself.  He was trembling, his tools shook in his hands and his own spark vibrated with fear.  He felt nauseous at the idea of being caught, but what really made him shake was the idea of what he was doing.

He unfastened the first screw.

A hiss licked his ears and he gasped in fright.  A moment later, he resumed working, realizing the hiss had been air shooting out upon the loosening of the hatch.

The second screw came undone.

There was no hiss this time, only a whisper. The whisper was sharp and indefinable, but it quickly dissipated and left him on the edge of fainting.

He had to hurry.  It was not a good thing to lose your sanity in a mental asylum.

The third screw came without any curious noises, but the fourth....

He could hear footsteps.  Someone was coming.  He had no time to waste.

He stared at the fourth screw.  It was the last one and the only thing keeping that spark from leaving its cell.

It beckoned him, taunted him with quiet, incoherent words.

"All right, all right," he whispered, and unscrewed it.

When the guards arrived, there was no one there and not a single spark was missing.

The following morning, Optimus remembered it was a public holiday.  That meant one thing - the whole family had a day off.  He was slightly irritated that he had forgotten and had therefore worked on all his paperwork until late last night, but at least it was over with and he could enjoy this rare day off.  Currently, he was in the kitchen, sitting on a stool and resting quietly.  He could hear his kids screaming at each other from the other side of the house, but their yells were punctuated with laughter, so he didn't intervene.  Shana was upstairs reading and apparently also ignoring the clamor.

He was brought out of his daze by a ring on the doorbell.

He hauled himself up and walked to the door.  He opened it.

There stood Rattrap with a sheepish grin.  Beside him was a young girl.

"Hey Optimus.  Remember me?"

Optimus smiled warmly.

"Rattrap, you're a pretty unforgettable character."

Rattrap laughed and Optimus welcomed them both inside.

"Sorry ta barge in on ya like dis, but we was passin' through an' I know ya live here, so I thought I might drop by ta say hello."

Optimus nodded.

"Oh, it's not a problem.  I'm glad to see you again.  How long has it been, three years?"

"Three an' a half."

They entered the sitting room and Optimus ushered them to a couch.

"Please, sit down," he said. He noticed the young femme smiling at him shyly.

"And who might this young lady be?" Optimus asked.

Rattrap turned to her and beamed.  Optimus found it a slightly unnerving thought that the femme might be his daughter, but that was confirmed an incorrect assumption a second later.

"This is Saiyita, my niece.  I'm baby-sittin' her for my sis for da time being.  She's been busy wid' getting a job in Vax City, but she called recently ta say she got one an' so I'm bringing Saiyita ta her."

Optimus sank down in a chair opposite him.

"Gee, that's a long way to travel by cyber car from your town."

Rattrap snorted.

"Tell me about it.  Da things I do fer my sibling."

Saiyita frowned at Rattrap.

"You said earlier today that I was a pleasure to have around."

It was the first thing she'd said and her voice was soft and shy like her appearance.  She obviously had some spunk in her, though.

Rattrap grinned lopsidedly.

"What did ya expect me ta say?  I was on da phone to yer mother.  You know how she gets when I criticize anything dat she does or belongs ta her."

"Uncle Rattrap!"

Optimus chuckled.

"I'm only teasin' ya, Saiy."

Just then, Zaq and Tazmin popped their heads around the door.

"Hello!" Tazmin giggled.

"Hiya Tazz, Zaq," Rattrap responded.

Optimus beckoned them to come inside, which they did.

"Kids, meet Saiyita, Rattrap's niece.  I'm assuming you remember Rattrap."

"Of course," Zaq said with a grin.

Tazmin approached Saiyita and took her gently by the arm.

"Come with me!  I'll show you some neat computer games Zaq and I have."

Saiyita got up hesitantly, but Rattrap gave her a push.

"Go wid' dem.  Dey don't bite, if I remember right."

Zaq and Tazmin led Saiyita out the room, and Optimus and Rattrap were alone.

"Nice kids ya got dere."

"Ah, they're such a handful, but they're loveable.  So, how've you been, old friend?"

Rattrap sighed wearily.

"Oh, I've been managin'.  Life's borin' in a small town, but y'know, after all I've been through, I kinda like da silence an' security."

"I know how you feel," Optimus said.

He paused before his next question.

"Do you still think about it?"

"About what?"

"The Beast Wars.  Megatron...what we did there."

Rattrap shrugged.

"From time ta time, I guess.  Generally, I try not ta think about it.  Although, I admit I did remember it when we passed the Zalton Mental Institution on da way here."

Optimus froze.  A pang of fear and shock gripped him for a moment, but he gained a hold of himself.

"Y-yes, I suppose that would conjure up...some memories," Optimus replied clumsily.

He decided he was not enjoying the topic of conversation he had brought up.  He had done so with quiet desperation, feeling a deep, inner urge to talk about his fears with someone.  Rattrap did, however, sound very much more relaxed on the issue, so he guessed he wasn't the best person to talk to about it.

Changing the topic rapidly, he said: "So how long are you staying here, in my humble town?"

"Humble!  Ya got dat right.  Dis place has gotten so quiet since I was last here.  It used ta be boomin' wid' tourists, but now da girl an' I are da only ones stayin' at a guest house fer a few nights, not far from here.  What happened, Optimus?"

Optimus cringed mentally.  The answer would mean bringing up Megatron again, but there was no way out of it....

"The tourists stopped coming when they built the Zalton institution."

Rattrap stared at him in disbelief.

"Really?  But dat place is miles from here!"

"Well, I think it's because it's on the way and bots are...are scared by it, so they tend to bypass this town and go other places which don't require them taking the freeway past Zalton."

"Paranoid, dat's what dey are.  'Sides, da people in Zalton city don't seem phased by it, so why should anyone else?  It's a high security institution isolated in da rural areas of Zalton anyways.  Hey, didn't ya say, years back, you was gonna try get a job at da airbase there?"

Optimus realized there was no getting out of this topic without showing obvious unease.

"Yes, we're moving there soon, in actual fact.  I finally got a job offer there."

Rattrap smiled.

"Good fer you, Pop Op!"

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Optimus?  I think we should take the route west to get to Cheetor."

"No, that brings us too close to the Predacon base.  We might encounter problems being so near.  We'll go round and bypass it."

Optimus returned the smile very slowly, and even then it was forced.  Rattrap picked up there was something bothering him.

"Hey, you ok, Optimus?  Ya look a little worn."

Optimus really wished he could tell him why, but then, Rattrap had already put it behind him.  Why bother reviving it? 

"Oh, I think it's just the stress of selling house and moving to a new place.  It's a lot to think about."

Rattrap nodded and they continued to talk for some hours, although the entire time Rattrap could see there was more to Optimus' discomfort than just that.  However, he decided not to press it and by that afternoon, he and Saiyita had left for the guesthouse.

Zalton Mental Institution Security Report: Dated 1/5/3056

Level Four Shift:  Quiet.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

Level Three Shift: No disturbances on this level.

Level Two Shift: No unusual occurrences.  Area is totally secure.

Level One Shift: Level guards reported some disturbances coming from the Spark chamber below.  The guards checked the chamber and found nothing.  A further investigation was made later which proved all sparks to be in their containers.  The guards have agreed they must have heard the life-support systems changing power supplies, as they do automatically every month when one power source is low.  Dr. Farax checked and confirmed this.  Report closed.

Two Days Later

Cybertronian children spend a maximum of three years with their parents.  Being robots, they can learn things at a much faster pace than any human.  Their education is intense for the first two years, after which they are able to survive by themselves.  Most children spend an extra year with their family for financial support as they try to find their feet in the business world.

Zaq and Tazmin still had some time left at school, Tazmin more so than Zaq, being the youngest, but their time with Optimus had gone by far too quickly for his liking.   The thought that in a year's time, both his kids would be off on their own adventures was a scary one, but he knew he couldn't hold them back.  Watching Shana take them out to the movies that night made him realize what precious few moments they had left with their children, which was why he was sad to have to stay home.  After the public holiday, he'd been mounted with work.  Although he was leaving his job here soon, they didn't ease the amount of computerwork they gave him each night.  He'd rather be watching Killerbot 4 with his kids, even though he despised Killerbot 1, 2 and 3.  He just wanted to spend time with them, but it seemed they'd rather be away.  Shana was going with them on this occasion, because she had the opportunity.  So he was to spend a good deal of the night alone - something which he disliked for more reasons than one.

When everyone had finally left the house and had silence settled over him like a heavy blanket, he decided not to dwell on it and busied himself in his work.  Two hours later, he was finished, but they hadn't returned home.  He'd heard them say they were going to play arcade games after the film, which was probably almost over.  It was going to be a while before they came home.

Sitting in his office, after shutting down his laptop, Optimus finally decided to face the silence fully.  It was not a soft silence, not peaceful or calming, but hard.  The kind of silence that almost sings in your ears.  Heavy and ominous.

He cleared his throat, but the sound came out harsh and abrasive to his audios.  He was already feeling the beginnings of an old fear, stirring in the depths of him.  He hated the sensation of being alone and vulnerable.  He had more than enough fighting experience to defend himself against a physical enemy, but the problem was, the enemy wasn't here.  It was in his head - a psychological demon which he could not see or hear, but he could most certainly feel.  

"I'm going to sleep, before I scare myself silly," he told himself mentally.  He got up from his desk and started the short walk down the hallway to the bedroom.  He had a mental condition, he thought grimly.  If he let it get out of control, he might end up in a mental institution himself....

That thought stopped him dead in his tracks.  Primus, no.  Forbid that ever happen to me....   He shook his head.

I'm overtired.  That's all.  It's late.

He entered his room, got onto the bed and quickly turned off the light.  He had to do it all in one swift motion, otherwise he'd never bring himself to switching off the light.  He lay in the darkness, and tried to sleep.

Despite his fears, he found himself to be genuinely very tired, and he began to doze off faster than he thought he would.  His senses began to dull as he sank deeper into slumber.  He was almost completely asleep, when a sharp rustle brought him abruptly back to consciousness.  He sat up and stared into the darkness.  Nothing.  He switched on infra-red, and still saw nothing in the room that could have caused such a noise.

Thud thud.

He swiveled around to face the door.  Someone had knocked on it, but nobody was there.  It was open and an eerie light seemed to leak into the room.  He braved switching off infra-red for a moment and saw that the light was a faint blue.  It was a very gentle light, but it pulsed slowly.  Fear tickled his throat, like a spider crawling up it from the inside.  He felt hot and dizzy and the silence, oh Primus, it was everywhere.  It was almost deafening, all-consuming, and yet just waiting to be disturbed again by...

The light was gone.  He didn't even notice it fade.  It was now totally dark and he instantly switched back to infra-red.  Slowly, he got out of bed and stood to his full height.  His gun...it was downstairs, in a case in the sitting room.  He had dismantled his shoulder cannons long ago.  He didn't need them anymore and if anything they had been a danger to his family, in case one night he got paranoid like he was now, and shot them by accident.  Paranoid.  That was all he was.  There was nothing there.  The light could have been a passing cyber car outside the hallway window, and the noise could have been anything dropping from his desk in the other room.  It was covered in papers anyway.  Still, telling himself all this made him feel no better, and he headed for the light switch.

ShhhhsssssOptimusss!

The whisper, sharp, a hiss, shot past his ears and he cried out in terror and lunged for the light switch.  He'd been so frightened he forgot he could simply voice-command them to come on, but then again he was too terrified to speak.  He hit the switch and there was a shriek, not unlike the noise wind makes when blowing past a pipe at speed.

Light poured into the room and he switched off his infra-red instantly.  He tossed his head wildly in the direction of the shriek and saw a collection of white dots forming in front of him.  That was all he needed to force him into a sprint.  He ran down the hallway, aware of thudding footsteps pursuing him closely behind.  He ran to the stairs, leapt down them and landed with a thud on the floor.  He then ran into the sitting room, punched a hole through the glass case which had his gun in it (unused for years, but still fully loaded) and snatched it.  He spun around, panting heavily, eyes wide with terror, and aimed it.

Nothing.

Nothing was there.  The house was as still as a grave.  Nothing moved, nothing stirred.  He'd left the lights on in here for when his family arrived home, but they revealed everything but the thing that had been chasing him.

He stood still, his chest heaving as his beast mode demanded air.  The transformer equivalent of adrenaline was pumping through his mech fluid, to heighten his speed and strength.  This was an automatic reaction to increased fear.  Fear itself is a weapon of protection against things that can harm you, and adrenaline is its response.  Fight or flee.  Optimus had done both.  Time passed, but his tense posture never slumped, his eyes never stopped darting about and his spark continued to shudder in his chest.  Eventually, after countless moments of waiting for it, Optimus realized it was never going to come, for it had never been there.  He was hallucinating.  The doctors warned him of this.  It was the next stage of his post-war neurotics.  Sure, he'd always felt uneasy, but now he was hearing and seeing things to go with it.

This realization made him feel a strange kind of relief, but at the same time, a sense of horror too.  Nothing was there - that was good to know - but his condition was beginning to get worse, which was not good to know.  

He sank to his knees, still clutching his gun, and stared ahead dully.

A few moments later, he let go of his weapon and brought his hands to his face, crying softly into them.

"What's wrong with me?"

Saiyita was alone in the guest house that night.  Rattrap had the room next door, but he was out for the time being.  She sighed as she sank down onto her bed.  Uncle Rattrap had not changed a bit.  When they arrived at the guest house, the first thing that struck him was not the fact that the place was empty of guests save themselves, but the attractive host lady who owned the house.  He'd immediately chatted her up and now both of them were down the road at a pub and it might be hours before he returned.

So she took out a book and lay back wearily.  They had been traveling all day in his extremely old cybercar and now she felt tired.  She'd inserted the recharge cable into her arm and attached it to some energon she'd brought with her.  The room she was staying in was small.  The decor was simple and coloured with soft reds and maroons.  It contained a single bed and a bedside table. The walls were thin and she was briefly glad Rattrap didn't snore.  

She closed her eyes and began to doze.  She was disturbed though when she heard the door closing.  Rattrap must have come back.  She was unaware of how long she'd been dozing, but she reckoned it must have been some time.  With a yawn, she got to her feet, disconnected the energon charger and exited her room.  The small passageway to the entrance hall and secretary desk was quiet.  

"Uncle Rattrap?"

Her voice came out muffled in the tiny, cramped building.  There were only four bedrooms, two on the right of the passageway and two on the left.  The vacant two were locked and when she peered into Rattrap's room, she found it to be empty too.

She frowned and pulled her head out of the room.

"Uncle Rattrap?" she called again.

No one answered her.  She walked into the entrance hall.  No one was at the desk and the door was closed.  And locked.

"I could have sworn I...." she began but trailed off as fear and confusion gripped her for a few moments.  She froze and then, after a pause, shook her head.  

"Dreamt it," she declared and turned around.  

There in front of her, blocking the passageway was a tall, black and grey male bot with dull red optics.

She gasped and stumbled backwards.

He remained motionless and so did she.  She was unable to move although her instinct told her to run.

He started drawing up his hands and she shrieked and turned to the door.  She grabbed the handle and hastily punched in the lock combination.  The door refused to open.  She cursed fearfully - she was a robot!  She'd programmed herself to remember the code, why wasn't it working?

She spun  around to face the bot only to find he was gone.   Her back against the door, she looked around the room wildly.  It was small, and there was nowhere to hide except...except behind the desk.  Her mech fluid was rushing through her, prickling in her veins and her body tingled with the urge to run.  She wished she had a weapon....

"Who are you?  What do you want?" she shrieked.

The silence stung her audios and the pale yellow walls of the room and passageway seemed sickening and claustrophobic to her.  It was almost dream-like...Primus, please may she be dreaming....

Suddenly, a small noise caught her attention.  It was a quiet thud and it was getting closer.  Footsteps, coming from the passageway which was just around the corner of the wall and out of her sight.  It got louder and heavier and she cried out and turned around and started punching in the lock code again.

Access denied.

She tried again. "Come on!" she urged through gritted teeth.

Access denied.

Louder, right behind her.  She could hear hoarse breathing and a ghostlike whisper hissed past her ears.

"Saiyita."

A piercing shriek ripped the air and she screamed in terror and turned around sharply.  Nothing was there, but the phone on the desk was ringing.  

She stared at it, wide-eyed.  It continued to ring, the sound abrasive and foreign in the seemingly-flammable air.  It took her a few moments before she was able to move towards it, and when she did her eyes looked down the passageway, hunting for the bot she'd seen.  She picked up the phone and answered it.

"Hello?" her voice trembled.

"Saiy?"

She recognized the voice.  It was Uncle Rattrap.

"Y...y-yes?" she whispered.

"Saiyita?  What's wrong?"

"Uncle Rattrap...someone's here.  H-h-help...I'm so scared...." she stuttered.

"Saiyita?  Calm down!  What's happened?"  She could hear the noise of a crowd behind him.  He must still be in the pub, down the road.

Her eyes were shooting glances down the passageway and around her as she gripped the receiver with trembling hands.

"Please, come back.  Someone's in the building...please, the door's jammed...I can't get out!"

"Saiy, please, calm down.  I can hear you're distressed.  I'm comin' now, just hang on."

"Okayhh, okayhhhh..." she panted, the fear making her feel light-headed.  

She put down the phone slowly and stared down the passageway.  The lights were flickering.

"Oh Primus, don't go out," she muttered desperately, close to sobs.

She looked over the desk, suddenly realizing that something could be hiding there.  There was nothing, but as she looked up again she caught sight of a door that she hadn't even noticed.   It must lead to the rest of the house which belonged to the owner.  The private section, like the owner's bedroom and belongings.  

He couldn't be in there now, could he?  It read 'locked' on the locking panel.

The lights flickered again ominously and she prepared to switch to infra-red.  She held the edge of the table with both hands, a cold sensation pricking down her back.  The phone rang and made her jump.

"OH slag!" she gasped, exasperated with terror.  She grabbed the receiver.

"Yes?"

A faint crackling met her ears and a low buzz.

"Hello?" she squeaked.

"Saiyita."

The voice was extremely deep and slow with a metallic ring to it.

She was paralyzed and against her will, she replied: "Yes?"

A lengthy pause, then: "Saiyita, it's okay to die."

She dropped the receiver in cold hatred and miserable fear and backed away from it.  She could still hear the voice coming from the phone.

"It's okay to die."

Her back met something cold and lumpy, very unlike a flat-surfaced door that was meant to be there.  She yelped and ran forward, hit the desk and toppled over.  The lights went out and the house-alarm suddenly went off.  It wailed in a high-pitched frenzy of noise and she scrambled under the lip of the desk and beneath the chair, screaming her vocal cords to their limits.  A low, haunting laughter rose above the alarm and the door directly in front of her, the one that was locked, began to bulge.  Something was pushing, hard, from behind.  The panel's red, digital letters reading 'locked' flickered from locked to unlocked and her scream trailed off into a terrible moan.  She was too alarmed to even switch to infra red and huddled beneath the desk, her hands now clamped over her ears.  She felt a curious sense of defeat swamp her and she almost wished it would just come and kill her swiftly.  The door shook violently and the panel lights flickered off...then on.

In green, the word 'Unlocked' blinked on and shone in the gloom.  She closed her eyes and cried.

A loud boom, boom, BOOM! and her eyes flung open.  A pale blue-grey light fell on the wall in front of her and two shadows fell as silhouettes.

"Saiyita!"

It was Uncle Rattrap's voice.  

The shadows moved and a few numb moments later the alarm switched off.

"SAIYITA!?!  Where are you?" he cried.

"I'm...here..." she sobbed pathetically.

"Why was the alarm on?" she heard the voice of the host-lady drift over to her along with Rattrap's footsteps.  He came around the desk, panicked and looked down at her for an instant, worry etched into his optics, before he threw himself to the ground.  She felt him grab her arms gently she and burst into sobs.

"What happened?" he asked her anxiously.  She snuggled against him and held him.  He could feel her entire body trembling.

She squeezed her eyes shut and cried quietly.

"I wanna get outta this town, I wanna get out," was all she could muster saying.  He sat back on his haunches and let her cry on his shoulder.  He patted her back delicately and looked up, frowning with confusion and concern.  The host-lady was staring down at them both, equally worried.

"I'll call the police," she said and reached for the phone.  Rattrap lowered his eyes and listened quietly to Saiyita's muffled sobs.

Two Days Later:

It was good to be outside.  His cyber car was comfy and secure and he didn't even have to concentrate on driving it.  He just set course and put it on automatic.

Optimus settled back in his chair and stared through the windscreen.  It was a pleasant day.  The light was soft and gentle and there were no winds this morning to create turbulence for the trip.  He had decided not to let what happened to him a few days ago get to him.  When his family had come home, he'd managed to cover up his fright and since then he hadn't lost his poker face.  Quite simply, if he didn't think about it, it would have to go away.

But then again, he was using his cyber car.  He never bothered with it unless he had to carry equipment or when he went to buy lots of things from the store.  He didn't use it to go to work in because he had his flight mode, but subconsciously, he was too afraid to fly out in the open.  Afraid that...

"Rhinox to Optimus!"

"Yes, Rhinox?"

"There are two Predacons moving toward your position. One of them's Megatron. You're damaged, you can't take them on.  Get out of there!"

"Copy that. Thanks for giving me the heads up."

He could still feel the impact.  He still remembered clearly the purple giant rising up in front of him as he struggled to stay airborne.  He still remembered-

"Out in the open alone.  Now that's no place for an injured Maximal.  I'm going to finish you, Optimus Primal.  One way, or another..."

His car jolted and he gasped.  It was turbulence.  He cursed softly at the weather forecasters.  They were always wrong.  He was over his airbase now and so he forgot about the wind and brought his car in.

"Good morning, sir," Kapa, one of the plane technicians said as he made his way out of the parking lot.

"Morning, Kapa.  How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you, sir.  'Going be sad to see you go."

"It's going to be sad for me to leave."

"Yes, sir."

A little while later, after checking in and getting the last of his computerwork, he entered his office.  He was going to miss this airbase.  He loved to teach eager young pilots how to fly the fighter jets, although recently he'd just being doing computerwork.  It was mostly to finish off here, since he was leaving work in two days.  Yesterday, they'd got an offer on their home.  It was what they'd been waiting for and it was only a matter of time before it was sold.  He'd felt sad at the idea of leaving it, but now, after that night, he was secretly glad to be moving out.  Except for the fact he was moving closer to...

He rubbed his head, trying to clear out the stuffy thoughts that were bothering him.  He sat at his computer and stared at the screen.  He stared at it stupidly for a while before he snapped out of his silly little trance.  He was trying so hard to forget everything, that he was finding every day things difficult to concentrate on.  He reached for the 'on' button, heaving a sigh, and pressed it.  His computer started up with a gentle beep as usual, and then it screamed.

An awful wail split the air and filled it and outside, through his large windows, he could see three of the plane-garages blow up one by one, only seconds between each blast.  The massive, fiery clouds billowed out, swallowing the people who fled from it in terror.  The high electric fences surrounding the base started sparking and all at once, every alarm siren in the area started blaring.  He cried out in horror and scrambled backwards clumsily, falling over himself and his chair.

"Get out of there!"

He ran to his window and looked out, watching as two more garages blew up in spectacular fire balls.  Sonic blasts at ground level rippled out from unseen sources, and all the running transformers on the ground exploded.  Sonic blasts were a form of weapon only tested recently and had never been used before.  They were a low frequency noise amplified to such an extent that they sent out waves which shattered anything it came into contact with.  He was two floors up but he could hear the glass shattering from below and the blasts were so powerful that all the windows started cracking in front of him.  He reeled backwards and turned, wide-eyed to face his computer.  A little red message was flashing on his screen and up until now, he figured his switching on of his computer and the ensuing chaos to be unrelated, to be a co-incidence.  But as his eyes focused on the message, he felt a heavy wave of nausea pummel through him.

"One way or another."

Before he even knew what he was doing, he punched a hole right through the screen and yelled 'no!' as loud as he could, although his voice was drowned out completely in the sea of noise around him.

He ran to his door and dully realized someone had locked him in.  He threw himself against it and then realized quite suddenly that his office was two floors above the only garage that had not yet been destroyed.

"I am Alpha and Omega, Optimus.  The beginning and the end."

He spun around and prepared to fly through his window, only to find Megatron, standing tall and menacing, blocking his way.

"The beginning and the end."

"Jets!  Maximum burn!"

He flew straight into him, punching him, kicking him.  Megatron did not scream, only laugh wickedly, as if each blow from Optimus' fist did nothing but amuse him.  Optimus was filled with a terrible rage, his body lurched and trembled with it and he continued to strike him, until he became weak and dizzy and could face the laughter no more.  He stood up, switched on his jets again and flew through the window. Up, higher and higher.  He had to get away.  This was not his fault.  He had to get out of there!

He noticed too late that someone had activated the sentinel shield over the base and was struck with a good few volts, sending him falling to the ground.  He'd fallen from a great distance a few times in his life and knew it was not pleasant.  He felt the impact, absorbed the pain, swallowed the nausea, and passed out.

"Who is his doctor?"

"Doctor Abel.  He was murdered two nights ago."

"Murdered?"

"Yep."

"Primus.  Did you check up on his files?"

"Yes.  He doesn't have any."

"He doesn't have any?"

"Abel didn't seem to have kept any, and if he did, we couldn't find them."

(sigh) "All right, what have his family put forward?"

"Nothing, they said they didn't even know he was going to a doctor."

"This guy's messed up."

"Why do you think he's here?"

(laughter)

Fades...

"Optimus."

His head was aching.  It felt as if there were a thousand drill holes in his body, all stinging.  He could hear himself breathing, rasping more like it. That was his beast mode acting up.  Part of him was still animal after all.  He had undergone a lot of trauma and his body had gone into a state of shock.  He felt that he was lying on a cold surface and he wondered if anyone had survived the blasts to pick him up off the ground.

It was a struggle for him to open his eyes, but slowly, after about five cycles of forcing them to switch on, his optics lit up.  He found himself staring up at the sky.  It was dusk and the sunset must have lit the clouds, for they rolled over him in great red and purple wisps.  They looked strange and menacing.  Cybertron rarely had clouds since it didn't really have much of an atmosphere.  He could feel the wind tickle over him, cold and startling.  His limbs felt glued to the floor.  

"Ngh.  Errr!" he grunted as he tried and failed to lift them.

"Wha-?"

Were they broken?  Offline, perhaps?  Had the impact been that great?

He groaned and stopped trying to move and instead focused on the clouds.

At first he didn't see it, but as he narrowed his optics and stared intensely at them, he realized two of the clouds weren't moving, and were a brighter red than any of the others.  They continued to glow brighter.

"Optimus?"

The clouds suddenly began to clear except for those two. His world morphed into a surrounding white and the two glowing reds became optics.  An unfamiliar, pale green bot was gazing down at him.

"Optimus."

"Nn?  Ugh...yee...yeee..."

Oh, he couldn't even speak!  It seemed beyond him.  He felt a sudden panic and frustration begin to grip him.

The bot watched him closely.  Her voice was calm and soothing.

"Optimus.  Can. You. Hear. Me?" she said slowly, methodically.

Why was she talking to him like some brain damaged human?

Unable to even make a sound, he resorted to nodding his head.  

She too nodded softly and then turned to look at someone out of his sight.  She spoke quietly and he did not understand her words.  His spark shuddered, his mind became a whir and he cried out.

"Where am I?!"

He lurched forward but was pushed violently back down.

"No, Optimus!  Stay still," the femmebot reprimanded him.

He let her hold him down and gulped the air.  "Where...?" he tried again.

She shook her head, got up and started to leave.

"Where?" he breathed desperately.

She turned away and spoke to the bot beyond his line of sight.

"He's too distraught.  I don't think we should tell him.  What should we do, then?"

The words he heard next sent cold shivers through his entire body, making him want to retch.

"Tranquilize him."

She walked off and a few terrifying seconds later, she sent a volt through him which activated stasis lock, and his world went black once more.

He awoke many hours later and found two bots to be watching him this time. One of them was the pale green bot, the other was a male, teal coloured bot.

"Optimus, how are you feeling," the male bot asked.  He had soft blue optics and a bright yellow Maximal insignia on his forehead.

"Hmhh...okay," he managed to say.  He felt sleepy, his previous fright seemed like a bad dream fading away.

"That's good.  Optimus, do you want to know where you are?"

A pause, and then 'Yes'.  He was finding it hard to stay awake but at least he was able to speak now.

"I don't want you to be alarmed when you hear this.  Your case is still under investigation, okay?"

What case?  What investigation?

"Okay," he said simply.  He had no strength to ask these questions.

The teal bot and the pale green femme both exchanged glances and then the teal bot looked at Optimus again.

"You are in the Zalton Mental Institution."

Bam.  A ton of bricks hit him, or at least it felt like it.  His chest tightened, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

"You were brought here after you had a mental break down at your office yesterday.  You began screaming and broke your computer.  A co-worker-

"I'll come back for you, Optimus Primal.  It's never over."

"-came into see what was wrong with you, but you ran straight into him.  You attacked him, knocking him to the ground.  Hitting him repeatedly."

"He's got dat look in his eye.  Da look only crazy people have."

"You killed him.  All the fuss had brought security to your office and upon seeing what you'd done to your co-worker, and that you were bracing yourself to fly out of the window, they shot you with a stun gun.  You fell out of the window and hit the ground two floors below, rendering yourself unconscious."

"No-oh!"

"We brought you here, having nowhere else to keep you.  Your family and lawyers are keeping you safe by claiming you had a fit of post-war neurotics.  We went to your doctor to see if we could find any files he might have kept on your condition, if indeed you do have it."

His eyes rolled upwards as he felt like retching again.   All of this, it had to be untrue.  It was untrue.  He never attacked anyone, only Megatron...only - Zalton!  Get him out of here!!

"We haven't found any files yet," the femmebot continued.  "Your doctor was murdered and all records of your recent appointments etcetera, well, they're missing.  Now Optimus, don't panic, you're safe here...."

He moaned, feeling trapped, miserable, misunderstood.  What were they doing to him?  Why did they bring him here?  Don't they know how much he fears this place?  Don't they know it eats him alive to know it even exists?

"Yes, you're in a private ward.  We've assigned you a new doctor.  He's come all the way from Cyberpolis.  He's apparently very good.  You're in good hands with him," the teal bot said reassuringly.

"No..." Optimus trailed.  He heard vaguely that they had found no files on his condition and somewhere in the back of his tortured mind, he knew that those files were very important now.  The sensible side of him, the person he used to be, told him to realize the importance of those files.  If they were gone, and he was on trial for murder, as crazy as that might sound, then he needed evidence. Who could he call?  Who...  Rattrap!  Rattrap!

The two bots made to leave, but he called them back.

"Wait!"

They turned and stared at him, their eyes suddenly cold and annoyed.

"You're damaged, you can't take them on."

His speech was slurred, but intelligible.

"Rattrap.  Mah fffrrriend R-R-Rattrap.  Hh-he knows-s-s.  Heh-heee'll help me.  C-c-caaaalll Rat-t-trap."

The teal bot turned to the femme.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, I think we should look into it."

They both turned and left and Optimus only realized some time later that they had actually gone and he was still stuttering 'Rattrap'.  He closed his mouth and tried to calm down.  He breathed deeply, but the fear and the confusion failed to subside, even with the knowledge that they were going to get Rattrap for him.  Rattrap was his friend.  His only friend.

He tried to settle down, and eventually he did, to an extent.  He managed to pace his breathing and close his eyes, trying to think about Rattrap, his only ticket out of here.

"Do you still think about it?"

"About what?"

"The Beast Wars.  Megatron...what we did there."

"From time ta time, I guess.  Generally, I try not ta think about it.  Although, I admit I did remember it when we passed the Zalton Mental Institution on da way here."

He heard the door click open.  It must be the doctor.  His doctor was on his side, yes.  His family knew he was sane, they did.  Yes, they did.  They must have called in the doctor to help prove his innocence.  The doctor was perhaps another way out of this place, yes, maybe he was.  

 He heard the bot walk over to his bed and he opened his eyes weakly.  The bot was tall, black and grey with pale red optics.  He was smiling, but his smile was not warm and friendly.

"A-a-re yooou my doctor?" Optimus stuttered.  His vocal cords must have been damaged in the fall.

The large bot bent over, putting his hands on his own knees and stared at him in contempt and mild curiosity.

"Goodness, no, Optimus Primal."

That voice...it belonged to no one...  Only Megatron.  And yet, this bot, he was speaking with that voice, that terrible, deep, malevolent voice.

Optimus cowered at the sound of it and looked up in terror.

"Who are you?!" he yelped, his voice loud and frantic, but at least coherent.

The dark bot chuckled.

"I traded places with one of the Predacon Freedom Fighters, who broke into this institution undetected and sacrificed himself for my escape. His spark now occupies my cell. I fled the area, but returned under the disguise of a doctor, when I found out where you were.  I must say, Optimus, it came as a surprise to find you here.  You really have gone downhill since your glory days in the Beast Wars."

"Get away from me," Optimus hissed through gritted teeth.  Why couldn't he move?  Was he strapped to this bed by invisible bonds?  Why couldn't he move?

"It was another surprise to find that your dear friend Rattrap was staying here too.  I paid his niece a little visit, yes."

Rattrap...Saiyita!

His spark was pulsing in his ears now, every part of his body prickled with the cold sensation of fear and he felt his throat knot, constricting all cries for help.  He was totally paralyzed with terror.  It consumed him until he thought it would choke him.

"Megatron's forces will use cover of darkness for their attack."

Megatron, in his new form, moved to the door, as if in slow-motion.  The lights began to dim.  Optimus knew what was coming, and he tried as best as he could to brace himself for the inevitable.

"And to answer your question-"

Megatron fastened his hand on the knob...

"I am Alpha and Omega, Optimus Primal.  The beginning and the end."

...and closed the door.