Salut tout le monde! Comment ça va? Moi? Je ve très bien, mais une peu fatiguée. Merci! Mon cours du français est difficile, but I'm having fun learning. For those of you that know French, don't yell at me for my atrocious grammar in the above sentences. I'm actually pretty proud of my meager skills. :)

Anywho, sorry for the wait. Mid-terms are coming up and I am in no way ready. Plus, both my teachers expect me to have all this free time to sacrifice for the languages, and I don't, so I'm kinda treading water here. It doesn't help that I really want to write a Bring Me Peace chapter about my college issues, because I really, really need an Optimus right now, but alas, our Private Elizabeth "Tex" Campbell is still in high school. Le sigh.

Warning: Contains PTSD. You have been warned.

Sorry, by the way, for putting two angsty chapters back-to-back. These things write themselves, and I figured you'd rather have an angsty chapter now than have a normal chapter in a week or two.

Please vote in my new poll.

12. Through the Fire

3,933 words

There was silence, complete silence as his troops stared up at him. This wasn't anything new. After all, he had given many a speech like this in his past. Rescue missions were normally done by Special Ops, but when fighting an enemy like this… greater force was needed. Optimus knew, though, that forcing these warriors to fight this battle, a battle they might not win, was unfair. Hence this meeting. So as a small multitude of admiring eyes stared up at him, he began his speech.

"Many of you have fought for me before, and many of you have had successful battles. You should know, though, that this army – this fight – will not be easily defeated. Despite this, I cannot condone leaving our royal leader in the hands of the enemy." Optimus paused for dramatic effect here, giving his troops time to focus on him again.

"I know many of you are worried, and some of you may not return, so I offer you this: if you do not wish to fight, I will allow you to stay here and protect our base from attack," Optimus stated, and he paused again to allow his troops a chance to weigh the two options.

Despite the familiarity of speech he was giving, Optimus was forced to admit that he had never commanded bots like these. The small army before him was young and untrained, and he worried that would hurt him, worried that would cause they're deaths. Still, he could not leave that femme to die. Her death would mean many things to his new army, and none of those things were good.

"We're in to the end, Op'mus!" one femme with curly blond pigtails and wide blue eyes announced loudly.

"Yeah! We'll rescue Miss Liz!" another femme with a brown French braid agreed. At this point, the rest of the little girls called out agreements, and Optimus felt himself smile. Another thing that was reminisce of his old army: everyone was always behind him one hundred percent. He had always given these speeches before most battles, second-guessing himself and his plans. Prowl had always encouraged him, taking those rough plans and transforming them into some spectacular. Still, Optimus always feared losing a battle, because most battle plans were ultimately from his own processor, regardless of what Prowl said.

"Very well, troops. Begin the attack!" Prime ordered. The little girls , all dressed as pixies, gave joyful shrieks, battle cries, and whoops as they turned as one to rush the castle, Optimus grinning as he watched them sprint away with their cardboard weapons in hand.

The day had been rather quiet, a slow Wednesday with only twenty-something girls. Of course, Karen, the Glam & Glamour manager, hadn't sent any of the Glamour Girls home, so the teacher: student ratio was obscenely high. There were currently four Glamour Girls on the floor: a sorceress, a popstar manager, a popstar, and Private Elizabeth, who was playing the role of the fairy queen who had been captured by the evil sorceress. Optimus wasn't really sure why Elizabeth had been kidnapped, just that she had been. Generally speaking, the fairy queen or princess of the day always got kidnapped. Optimus supposed it was much like how the Decepticons were always stealing energon: they just couldn't think of anything better to do. He supposed it didn't matter in this case. As long as the little ones were entertained, they would continue with whatever was entertaining them.

"Mister Prime! Mister Prime!"

The sound of a small femme voice brought Optimus out of his thoughts, and he looked down to see a three-going-on-four-year-old with brown curls staring up at him with a wide smile and sparkling hazel eyes. Optimus had situated himself on a short table in the trunk of the fairy tree, a small room dedicated to arts and crafts, to give his speech. It was difficult getting to this spot, but he figured that he should be accustomed to such huge gaps in distance due to his new height. After all, he battled stairs every day.

"Yes, Kylie?" Optimus responded gently, gaining a giggle from the youngster.

"Mister Prime, aren't you gonna help us fight Miss Katie?" Katie was the resident sorceress for the day. Optimus smiled at her, though she probably couldn't tell. He kept his facemask on whenever he was around other humans. It seemed right, for some reason, to only retract his mask around Elizabeth. It was a habit he had picked up during his days as Optimus Prime, scientific, religious, and political leader of Cybertron. He had always kept his mask on during those cycles, never wanting another politician to see his emotions and use them against him.

"Of course," he agreed. "I will need your assistance getting down, though."

Kylie giggled loudly as she trotted forward, watching Optimus as he climbed down off the stack of books Elizabeth had set up for him as a staircased platform of sorts. Optimus approached the edge of the table and bore the sticky hands with practiced grace as Kylie helped him to the ground.

"My gratitude, Lady Kylie," Optimus thanked, gaining another giggle from the little girl. Optimus knew that most of his words went straight over these girls' heads, but he retained his dignity nonetheless. Besides, according to Private, these girls understood tone and would eventually figure out what his long words meant via context and adult assistance.

Kylie didn't wait for Optimus after helping him down, choosing instead to run away toward the castle after picking up her fake sword. Optimus smiled as he trotted after her. The scene he walked out on was amusing to say the least. Little girls were scattered through the vast G&G building, each weakly play-fighting with another. Little cardboard swords smacked cardboard shields, and weak insults were passed. They were, no doubt, copying fights from cartoons they watched. This was further evidenced by one girl suddenly shouting, "Fire of Sirenix!" The little girl put her hands together and thrust them in her "enemy's" direction. The girl she was "fighting" gave a fake cry of pain and staggered back before putting on an angry face and "retaliating."

Over all, it appeared to be a rather successful battle in G&G terms. No crying, no arguing, and every girl involved appeared to be having fun. A glance up at the top of the castle showed Katie and Elizabeth watching over the girls from above on the balcony that jutted out of the castle's second story. Elizabeth caught my gaze and grinned at me. Her face was still healing, the black and blue bruise on her eye covered liberally with makeup. There was barely any swelling, and she was cleared for work. Katie glanced at Elizabeth then followed her gaze to Optimus.

"Aha!" she called out, her strong, mock evil voice easily rising over the din. "I see our fearless avenger has come for his princess! You will not be successful!"

Optimus grinned back. "You over-estimate yourself as usual, witch! I will rescue my queen!" Optimus disagreed, raising the volume on his vocalizer to be heard over the battling pixies and witches.

"You assume she will be alive when you reach her!" Katie shouted back.

"Commander!" a nearby seven-year-old called out. "Save Queen Lizzia! We'll cover you!"

Optimus wondered mildly where the child had heard such a phrase as the latter, but he didn't question it, choosing instead to follow her suggestion. He rushed across the battleground, easily dodging small feet connected to children that were still taller than he. The castle was easy to get into, the distinct lack of door making it easier to storm than past Decepticon bases. It helped that all the "guards" were currently battling his "warriors." No one paid him any mind as he approached the staircase.

The staircase…

Primus, how he hated stairs.

Still, he had a part to play, and by Primus, he would be successful. He tackled the task as he normally did, hooking his knee on the next stair and pulling himself up. These stairs were about the same height as the ones at home – about half his height – and there were nineteen of them in all. He had to dodge to the far left of the staircase, close to the wall, when two little girls rushed down, fighting over dramatically with their swords and shields as they ran. Optimus thought about stopping them and reminding them not to run on the stairs, but he figured they wouldn't listen anyways. That had been something he had learned when Bumblebee was on the Ark: little ones didn't listen well, much less remembered those lectures, when they were playing.

By the time Optimus reached the top of the staircase, the battle outside was dying down – boredom, perhaps? – and all the "guards" were now outside. Optimus wasted no time in hurrying around the top of the staircase toward the open alcove that led to the balcony. As expected, Katie was facing the balcony entrance, a hand grasping Elizabeth's arm threateningly. Elizabeth was giving Katie a wry look, obviously trying not to smile, and Optimus wondered what they had been talking about before he arrived.

"I see you finally made it through my forces," Katie observed, pausing to send a puff of air up to her bangs, which were slowly inching their way down from where she had them pinned back under her black hood attached to her long velvet cape. "Still, you are defeated."

"I will defeat you and rescue my queen," Optimus disagreed. "It is you that will fall!"

"I doubt that. Look below," Katie ordered, stepping to the side with a sweeping gesture to reveal the hard, carpeted floor a floor below them. Little girls dressed as pixies laid on the ground, limbs askew and faces holding exaggerating expressions of "death," tongues sticking out and eyes staring straight ahead. A few giggled, all of them blinked, and a good majority shifted on the uncomfortable floor while trying to retain their "dead" look. Each of them was breathing. Each of them was obviously still alive.

So why did they all suddenly look dead to him?

In the back of his mind, he could hear Katie say, "Your forces are scattered, your warriors fallen." None of the words really stuck, though, moving in one audio receptor and out the other as he stared at a scene that was growing far more gruesome with every passing second.

Flesh slowly faded to Cybertronian metal compounds uniquely made to support young life. Hair fell off and was replaced by small helms, and clothes turned into armor, fake chiffon fairy wings transforming into metal winglets and door nubs. Pointed witch shoes became little pedes, and black witch capes became thin, mesh blankets that once covered and warmed the little ones they were placed over.

The balcony gave him height, a great distance between the sparkling-cover floor and his optics that made him feel thirty feet tall again, and in his mind's eye, he could see the flames rising around the little bodies, smoke polluting the air and cutting down visibility. His processor subconsciously replayed the audio that matched the scene, adding the crackling to the flames, screams to the horror he stood over.

"Optimus, what are your orders?" Ironhide asks, even as the other bots around him swiftly start searching through the rubble that was once the Youth Sectors of Iacon. Optimus opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

This was his fault.

His. Fault.

Elita had warned him that something like this could happen. Prowl had crunched the numbers and backed her, but he had refused. They couldn't spare the troops. That had been a true fact. They had just barely won an offensive against the Decepticons, the first they had won, actually, and it had all been thanks to their newest tactician: Prowl, who had joined after Megatron brutally razed his homecity to the ground. Prowl and a black and white mech named Jazz that had only just been transferred to Optimus' base as a special operations mech. He had come highly recommended, and he hadn't disappointed.

Now that he thought about it, Jazz had volunteered to take a small group of ops mechs behind the enemy lines to find out what Megatron was up to, to find out if they could determine if the Youth Sectors were, indeed, in danger. Optimus had said no. He needed the mech power to help find survivors on the battle field and city they had been fighting to protect. And true to his beliefs, every single mech was needed. Maybe that should have comforted him a little bit.

It didn't.

"Optimus?" a gentle female voice called out. It threw the Autobot leader for a loop, because such a voice didn't match with this memory. The femme contingent was currently in Protihex, checking on the youth sector located there. Besides, this voice didn't sound familiar at all.

"Optimus, we're moving to the next building," a veteran soldier called Splitshaft informed the young leader. Optimus attempted to force the shell-shocked haze from his mind, but the klik he managed to, the mech's words processed in his mind.

"There were no survivors." In Optimus' mind, this had been fashioned as a question, yet it came out as a bland statement. He hadn't searched himself, after all, too wrapped up in his guilt. He should have been searching. Primus, how selfish was he! To be standing around, staring at the wreckage like a drone while his soldiers searched through the rubble, forced to see the offlined frames of sparklings and femmes alike. What must his soldiers think of him? Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he knew they couldn't think any lower of him than he thought of himself. There were many times Optimus had hated himself during his years as Autobot leader, but none so much as this time.

"Optimus," Ironhide called gently, his optics holding a deep concern that was rarely seen in public. Optimus looked over at his body guard and life-long friend. He couldn't even remember the cycle that Ironhide had come into his life; the red mech had simply always been there. The look in his optics was one that was familiar, a look that said, "You'll get through this." Optimus wasn't so sure, though.

"Optimus? Are you okay?" That female voice rose above the din again, but Optimus ignored it; Ironhide was speaking again.

"Prime, if you need to go back to the ship, I can—"

"No," Optimus interrupted. "This is my duty," he added as he stepped away from Ironhide and toward the next building. He heard the security officer sigh before following after him, probably to try to talk him out of searching with his warriors. He wouldn't succeed, though. It wouldn't be fair to his soldiers for them to have to experience this nightmare while their leader lounged around in the ship. No, he would see this through to the end, even if it broke his spark when it was all over.

"Optimus!"

He blinked, optics offlining and rebooting as that female voice yanked him from his memory loop. Deep azure optics met terrified hazel orbs, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a dark mixture of emotions – fury, sadness, concern – unfurled at the sight of fear in those eyes, eyes that were important for a reason he could not seem to place. He was not acquainted with any living organics; the last ones he met had died nearly a millennium ago when Megatron destroyed their planet in order to commandeer their space bridge.

"Optimus, are you okay?" the organic femme… Elizabeth. Her name was Elizabeth. Just like that, everything snapped into the proper prospective. He was at Glam & Glamour, a business that catered to little girls whose parents were busy and needed someone to watch over their children. The girl – nearly a woman – that was leaning over him – why was he sitting down? – was his owner, the femme that had purchased him to become her companion. The green chiffon cocktail dress she wore, matched up with the red chiffon fairy wings, told Optimus that he glamour gift of the day was magic, or in layman's terms, she was a fairy for the day.

"What happened?" Optimus asked seriously as he struggled to regain his bearings. Elizabeth shook her head.

"I don't know. You just froze up after looking at the lower floor," she told him, her voice catching a little as she spoke. He frowned when he saw a tear fall from her left eye. He had panicked her. He had caused her to cry. He had sworn to never hurt her. Yet another shortcoming. Could he nothing right?

"Optimus, stop that!" Elizabeth ordered suddenly, startling him from his dismal thoughts. He opened his mouth to question her, but she cut him off. "You always have that look, like your world is falling apart because you made a mistake. What happened out there, Optimus?" his human asked, her voice holding a bit of warning in it. It was ironic how much she sounded like Elita in that moment.

Elita. Primus, what he would give to see her, to confide in her. He allowed a wry grin to rise to his face at the thought of that. She'd tell him he was being foolish, wallowing over deaths that he wouldn't have been able to prevent, even if he had sent those troops. She had said as much when she found out about the massacre he had searched through cycles before she had come up on her own Youth Sector massacre in Protihex.

Elita would have liked Elizabeth.

"When I saw the girls on the floor… it brought up a memory loop… of the Youth Sector attacks," Optimus stated blandly, emotion sinking out of the sentence as he fought to keep his mind from falling back into that loop. As it was, flashes of small, dark optics and crackling flames flitted through his mind. Elizabeth stiffened and gave a short breathless gasp.

"They programmed you with that?" she asked, horrified. Optimus grimaced at her words. They made him feel… fake, which was correct. He was not living. He was not that Optimus Prime… yet he was. The paradox that was him looped through his processor only twice before he violently shut down the train of thought. "That wasn't your fault," Elizabeth stated after a few moments of silence. Optimus had to take a moment to remember what they had been speaking about before his processor had uncharacteristically wandered. When he was back on track, he chuckled belatedly at his human's statement.

"I suppose you know this because you were there?" he asked his voice holding more humor than sarcasm. He could never be cruelly sarcastic to Private. Elizabeth shifted bringing him back away from her chest to sit him on the table she was seated at. Now that it was brought to his attention, he could see that he was in G&G's bland break room. It was a small room, barely eight by eight feet with a single soda vending machine and a snack machine. Pushed against the far wall was a four by four table with three folding chairs opened on three sides of it. Elizabeth was seated on a chair that sat against the wall, and he was currently seated on the table.

"Optimus, I highly doubt you suggested to Megatron that the Youth Sectors would make a good target," Elizabeth responded evenly. Optimus grimaced at her wording.

"I doubt Megatron ever needed help picking out a target," the commander noted, ever happy to steer the girl from the current conversation. He didn't particularly want to talk about this to her; what would she think when she found out that he practically sent those sparklings and femmes to their deaths when sending them to those Youth Sectors, places that were supposed to be "safe?"

"Optimus, that's not the point, and you know it," Elizabeth stated lowly. The Autobot leader turned his gaze up to her, meeting her concern with his hesitance.

"Prowl and Elita both warned me the attack could and likely would happen," Optimus stated after a brief moment of silence. "Instead of sending troops ahead, I kept everybot behind to help find survivors in the city that had been attacked."

"So you made a decision on sound facts rather than the unproven theories. You knew there would be survivors in that city, yet you could not be sure Megatron was going to attack the Youth Sectors."

"I should have sent mechs there preemptively to defend them," Optimus responded, rising to his feet to pace before the taller being. "I should have known they were in danger."

"And risked lives you knew were in danger? Optimus, the whole point of those Youth Sectors were that they were safe. You took steps while creating them to make sure they were. You couldn't have known that Megatron would overrun them."

"But I should have. This shouldn't have happened," Optimus mumbled, more to himself than to the teenager staring down at him.

"Optimus, then people in that city would have died," Elizabeth reasoned. Optimus scowled beneath his mask, optics squinting irritably as he stopped his circuit to glare up at his human.

"And the deaths of thousands of femmes and sparklings is an exchange?" Optimus demanded, his voice raising to a shout. Elizabeth's eyes went wide at the unusual action, and her mouth clamped together, lips pressing into a thin line. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, Elizabeth's expression blank while Optimus' ranged from pain to surprise at himself to concern to self-loathing. He gave a deep sigh as he turned his gaze to the ground, shamed by his actions. Elizabeth was his only friend in this world, the only creature he could call his. She was only trying to help, yet he shut her down, just as he had done so many times to Elita when she tried to convince him that the Youth Sector Genocide was ultimately Megatron's fault and that Optimus could not take any blame.

"Optimus…" Elizabeth called out gently. Optimus turned his gaze back to those hazel orbs and found, to his surprise, compassion and understanding there. "I know nobody can change your mind but you. Until you figure it out… I'm here for you."

And that was, strangely enough, similar to what Elita had ultimately said. It was comforting to know that she didn't feel the need to press him. Ratchet would have. Ironhide would have. Ultra Magnus would have argued and argued until he was convinced Optimus believed he was the infallible leader everybot else seemed to think he was. He liked knowing that this girl in front of him didn't think of him that way. He could mess up, and she wouldn't judge him. She would acknowledge the mistake and move on instead of ignoring it and putting the prime on a pedestal like his soldiers had so many times before. Optimus allowed himself a small smile and retracted his mask so that he could share it with the one person that was important to him. Elizabeth gave him a weak smile back and held out her arms to him. Optimus was fairly certain the hug was more for her comfort than his, but he walked into her arms and suffered the cuddling nonetheless.

"Private, I believe you have earned a new rank. How does Specialist Elizabeth sound?" Elizabeth snorted at his words but replied with a smile. "Sounds perfect."

A Wiccan: Eh heh. Yeah, but at least I wasn't gone for six months this time! :D If I could perfect time management, I would be totally set.

Sora Matasuki: I hear you there. I'm glad I don't have nightmares anymore. Now, I just have weird dreams about being lost in huge malls that have evil clowns and random slides. Weird dreams.

I Am The Silver Lining: I think your review is kinda ironic because I didn't remember that you had mentioned that until I was going through review replies after I finished writing. Not really a nightmare, but will a day…mare do?

Esperanza Hyde the Vamp Queen: Meh, it's easier on the sidelines. Be happy you were considered. I think I got, like, ten votes, and the whole high school votes. Not even close to winning. Oh, well. It was fun hanging with the mini-cheerleaders.

Leonixon: I seriously need to try to make a Optimus plushie. It must be done! It may not look good, but it will be an Optimus plushie, and the world will suddenly be a good place.

ImpossibleImpact: Oh, my goodness! I can't even imagine hitting someone with a disk. Those things are heavy, too! Geez. I feel for your teammate! He's lucky a concussion was all he got. :(

Bliss123: Thank you for your compliments! I always worry when I'm putting one of these up. This story makes me so nervous! I don't even know why! DX

SunnySides: See, I used to have Transformers posters on my walls, but I started having dreams where they were alive, and it freaked me out cuz I felt like they were judging me whenever I was in the room. I had to stop changing in there, and I eventually started hanging out in my brother's room because they freaked me out so much. My Red Alert paranoia and overactive imagination go overboard sometimes. But I don't think I could sleep with an action figure. Too many pokey parts. I don't get how Elizabeth (Tex) can sleep with a Personal. I feel like it'd be uncomfortable. Plus, I'd be too self-conscious. I mean, seriously, what if you fart when you sleep?

"Fire of Sirenix" belongs to Winx Club, which the girl I babysit has suddenly become enamored with.

I always saw Optimus as that guy that was forced onto a pedestal by his troops and always felt pressured by it. That song, uh... "Kryptonite" or "Superman" or something. I think it's by Three Doors Down. I could see Optimus jamming to that song while he's drinking heavily after a bad battle. (which is super depressing) Just my headcanon that Optimus loves and hates his roles as Autobot commander, much like Rodimus, the difference being his mentor, Sentinel, never let Optimus have the freedom Hotrod had, so he never really knew that he could escape his role as future prime. Am I making sense? Any of y'all have a Optimus headcanon that's not necessarily supported by canon?

Please vote in my new poll. You have up to three votes, i believe.