by Smokescreen85 » Sat Aug 13, 2016 9:01 pm
- Motto: ""A look can be deceiving; a touch can be lethal.""
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Medical Bay
Hot Rod remained seated with his head down, staring at the floor. Some of the others tried to convince him that what had happened with the Fallen wasn’t his fault. However, deep inside he felt otherwise. Hot Rod hadn’t been strong enough to fight off the dark spark of the fiery demigod and as a result a lot of mechs on both sides of the war suffered the consequences. And while the cavalier wasn’t so concerned about the ‘Con side, the Autobot side was another matter. Many of his comrades were badly injured or worse during the conflict. Hot Rod had seen the damage the Fallen had done but was powerless to stop it.
If I had only been stronger, Hot Rod thought to himself as Clocker and Cliffjumper tried to cheer him up, the first liking his new appearance while the latter joked about Arcee. The cavalier didn’t laugh, though. He managed a slight smile at the two mechs, but he still didn’t laugh. Hot Rod couldn’t when so many of his friends had been hurt because of his weakness. Why should he find any joy when others are in pain? It didn’t seem right or fair.
It was all your fault, child. You were weak. You were a failure! The Fallen’s voice echoed through his cranium even though the dark spark was no longer inside him.
“No....” Hot Rod muttered quietly to himself as he gripped both sides of his head with his hands. Get out of my head. You’re gone. We defeated you! The cavalier shouted internally, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted by Blurr’s vocals, saying that they should go see who was in the private room. Without waiting, the blue speedster took off across the med bay and promptly lost his balance before half crashing into a wall. This elicited a slight chuckle from Hot Rod who lowered both hands and slowly got to his feet.
“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a look,” the flame-covered mech said quietly as he took several steps towards the crowd that had assembled all around the locked doorway. As he approached, he could hear bits and pieces of the conversations of the other ‘bots. The name Prime was uttered more than once, even by Blurr, himself. Clocker and Cliffjumper were there now, too, seemingly as excited as the rest. “Prime?” Hot Rod asked as he reached the crowd and overheard another mech telling Blurr that someone saw Optimus being brought in earlier. “You mean Optimus is here? Is he alive!? Is he okay?”
Before anyone could answer, Hot Rod noticed Rewind going up to the locked door of the private room and knocking. Moments later, to his surprise, it opened and the cassettebot stepped inside before the door began to close again. Pushing through the small gathering, the cavalier quickly reached the door just in time to catch a brief glimpse of Optimus sitting on a med berth inside as the door shut and automatically locked once more. “It was him! Optimus is in there!” Hot Rod looked over at Blurr and the others in shock. “He’s alive! He was sitting up!”
The cavalier returned his attention to the door, raising one fist up to knock but then quickly lowering it again. They would likely have let him in just like Rewind, but what would he say to Prime? Hot Rod had just been the host for a fiery demigod that wanted to destroy the entirety of the Cybertronian race. He had indirectly caused, through his own weakness, the pain and suffering of countless Autobots and the deaths of many others. What would Optimus think of that? What would he think of the cavalier who had so often in the past been reckless with his actions and thought of no one but himself? Would Prime chastise him? Would he berate him for being weak? Would he be understanding on the outside while internally judging Hot Rod?
“I can’t go in there,” the cavalier said in a defeated tone, backing away from the door. Hot Rod lowered his optics, not wanting to look anyone in the faceplate. He moved away from the crowd, stumbling forward before catching himself on a nearby table. “I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m not worthy of being in Prime’s presence.”
No, you’re not. You’re not even worthy of being in mine. You are weak and pathetic! You’re spark is tainted, child, by the darkness that I left there. Prime will never accept you for what you are now and forever will be!
Shut up! You’re not here! You’re not real anymore!
Are you sure?
No... Hot Rod thought as he heard his name coming from somewhere nearby. It wasn’t the Fallen’s voice this time, it was another. It was real.
“Hardhead?” The cavalier looked over and saw the green warrior lying on his back, trying to get up. The former herald had just woken from a stint in a CR chamber after having lost his head in Uluru and was clearly confused, asking what had happened. Hot Rod moved over to the veteran’s side and knelt down. “Take it easy. You’re on the Guardian. The Fallen has been defeated. Prowl ripped his dark spark from my body with a spark extractor. You and the other heralds are now free of the Fallen’s influence.” Hot Rod paused for a moment to let what he just said sink in. “And I seem to be back to normal, as well. Or at least as normal as I can be all things considered. I don’t feel the same though. I don’t think I ever will again.”
Hot Rod’s words trailed off as he let out a deep sigh. “But, anyway, let me help you up, Hardhead,” the cavalier said as he stood up and extended his hand down towards the green soldier.