“Give me one reason why you look so sad
A heart like yours wasn't made for that
Give me your hand, I'll pull you through”
-- “You and Me” --Tiffany
Optimus wanted to jump right back in the swing of things, but Rodimus and Ultra Magnus insisted that he take it slowly. Optimus grudgingly agreed – nearly dying didn't really agree with him, and it would be best to take things one at a time. He marveled many times how good it felt just not to be in terrible pain. He was glad that the Autobots had wiped out the Quintesson laboratories and most of their fleet so that the five-faced monsters could no longer inflict such a terrible illness on any other innocent beings.
As several days passed, Optimus began to feel rather ill. Nothing compared to what he had already experienced, but it was disconcerting all the same. He felt tremors, had difficulty concentrating, and his temperature gauge registered in the high range. His coolant and auxiliary air intakes had to work overtime to keep him cooled off.
Finally, realizing that something was really wrong and not wanting to take chances, he stopped by medbay to get checked out. Ratchet looked him over very carefully, fearful that something had gone wrong, but concluded with a very confused look that he could not find the problem. The physical symptoms were there, but the cause remained hidden.
First Aid poked his head in, and Ratchet conferred with him briefly. First Aid's optic visor flashed once, and he murmured something. Ratchet nodded. The Protectobot medic exited the room and returned swiftly with a hypospray. He pressed it to Prime's neck and injected him with its contents. “Better?” he asked.
Optimus lay back on the medical berth, feeling every servo relax. “Ahh, yesssss… that's exactly what I needed, First Aid.” He noticed that it was getting rather hard for him to concentrate. He didn't want to think, didn't want to move at all, just wanted to lay there and stare at the ceiling that suddenly had him fascinated.
Ratchet and First Aid exchanged a meaningful gaze. First Aid's theory had been proven true.
A thought pricked at Optimus, disturbing his sense of relaxation. “First Aid,” he drawled, finding it difficult to make his vocal unit work, “what did you give me? What's wrong with me?”
First Aid approached the Autobot leader warily. “Anamorphine.”
Optimus sat bolt upright, the haze around his mind dissipating. “Anamorphine! Why did I need anamorphine?” A terrible thought occurred to him. “You gave me an awful lot of it when I was dying… does this mean that I've become… an *addict*?!” He was struck to the core with horror.
First Aid looked at the floor. “I'm afraid so, Optimus. We honestly did not expect you to recover, and we just wanted to make your last days comfortable. I'm very sorry.”
Optimus felt his anger and frustration drain away. This wasn't First Aid or Ratchet's fault. “That's all right, First Aid. Believe me, I was very grateful for it. I would have taken even more if you had offered it. The issue now is how to cure this new condition of mine.”
Ratchet felt that he should intervene and take some of the pressure off of his colleague. “Optimus, we could arrange a schedule to treat you with decreasing amounts of anamorphine so that you are gradually weaned off the drug—“
“NO!” Optimus roared. “You will not pollute my body with any more of that filth! I do not want to be dependant on some mind-altering substance. I will simply have to adjust to the side-effects.”
Ratchet frowned. “Optimus, you really have no idea what you are in for. The withdrawal symptoms can really wreak havoc with your systems. You won't be able to do much of anything.”
“I'll manage.” Prime stood to go, staggering to the door. It took both doctors to force him back to the bed. Optimus definitely should not be wandering around in his semi-stoned state!
Optimus Prime soon discovered that Ratchet's words were all too true. The withdrawal symptoms returned after several days and grew steadily worse. He found that he could not concentrate on anything. He grudgingly put in for a leave of absence, leaving Rodimus in command, and sealed himself in his quarters. He was going to ride this thing out in isolation.
Rodimus became increasingly worried about his friend by the day. Optimus had shut himself off totally from the world. Roddy could see why – the Matrix link was feeding him some very bizarre sensations – overheating, restlessness, inability to concentrate, and an overwhelming *need* that overrode everything else. Rodimus tried everything he could think of to contact Optimus – the comm. link, the door chime, e-mail, instant messaging. But Optimus continued to ignore him, hell-bent on staying isolated through whatever was going on. This time, he wasn't going to sit idly by! Roddy marched directly to Ratchet and gave him a direct order to reveal Prime's condition. Ratchet complied, not wanting to risk charges of insubordination, actually relieved that Rodimus had come to him. The young Prime had better luck than anyone else in talking some sense into Optimus.
'So that's it!' Roddy thought in amazement. 'No wonder he doesn't want anyone to see him! Well, he's not going to get rid of me that easily! I've got a few tricks of my own.' With some very skillful arguing, and using a whole lot of charm, he managed to persuade Kup to give him the code to override the lockout on Prime's quarters.
Roddy wasn't sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't the sight that greeted him. Prime's quarters were completely dark. Half-drained Energon cubes lay tossed about around the bed. Obviously Optimus did not have much of an appetite. Some Earth television program blared in the background, but the room's occupant had obviously lost interest in it.
Optimus lay facedown on his recharge berth, his metallic hide awash in a sheen of coolant. He was fairly soaked in it, small puddles forming beneath him. His optics were dimmed, his exposed face set in a grimace. His fingers twitched and clenched spasmodically. Rodimus could actually hear the air intakes struggling to cool his overheated systems.
Rodimus approached cautiously and gently touched Optimus on the head. The suffering Autobot jerked back and cried out, but Roddy held him still. “It's okay! It's me!” he said reassuringly, until Optimus finally calmed down.
“I thought you were another hallucination,” Optimus gasped weakly. “I've had so many of them….”
“Don't worry about anything. Just relax.” Roddy concentrated on sending as much calm as he could through the link. He pulled out a jar of cooling liquid and dabbed Optimus' face.
“Roddy… how did you get in here?”
Roddy grinned. “Kup let me in. He's a real pushover sometimes.”
Optimus groaned. Kup was really asking for it! “Please, Roddy… just go. I don't want anyone to see me like this.”
“Too late! I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. 'Sides, I can feel what you're going through and I just want to help.”
“I don't see how you can,” Optimus said despairingly.
“Drink this.” Rodimus held out an Energon cube. Optimus drank it down and realized, as the last of its contents entered his system, that it had been spiked with a sedative. Roddy turned to go once he was sure that Optimus was resting comfortably. He had work to do, but he'd be back. With the security override, Optimus couldn't stop him from coming back to help.
Optimus awoke from his fog several days later to find that the worst had passed. He still had the unbearable cravings and raised temperature, but at least he could put some organization to his thoughts.
He felt a damp sensation on his chassis, and looked down in confusion. He jumped in surprise, drawing his knees up to his chest, trying to conceal himself. “Rodimus! What in the pit do you think you're doing?”
Roddy grinned irrepressibly. “Giving you a sponge bath. You're disgusting!”
“Give me that rag! I can do it myself!” Optimus was beyond humiliation at this point. Of all the indignities!
“Aw, just quit your griping and lay back. I'm almost done here. Andromeda said she wanted to come visit, and I thought you'd want to be presentable for her.”
Optimus grudgingly let Roddy finish his work, one arm covering his face in embarrassment. The door chime rang, and Rodimus rose to answer it. “Roddy!” Optimus exclaimed.
Rodimus paused, turning. “Yeah, what is it?”
“My armor!” Optimus gestured to his nude body.
Roddy smirked. “Come on, it's nothing she hasn't seen before.”
“RODIMUS!”
“Okay, okay, I'll preserve your precious modesty,” the young Prime laughed, replacing Optimus' missing armor plating.
Roddy let the femme in, who went straight to Optimus and gave him a huge hug. Rodimus headed for the door to give them some privacy. “Wait!” Andromeda exclaimed. “Why don't you stay and hang out with us? I'm sure Optimus wouldn't mind.”
“I don't,” Optimus confirmed. He still wasn't feeling too good and could definitely use a diversion from the need gnawing at him. “We could watch some movies and play some games.”
“Sure, why not?” Roddy was always up for movies and games. He'd make sure that Optimus had some fun!
A few days later, Optimus Prime was given a clean bill of health. He was all too eager to get out of his quarters. Roddy suggested something unusual that he'd always wanted to try – a picnic to celebrate Oppy's recovery. He gathered together some sweet Energon goodies, a massive scrap of cloth, and set off to collect Optimus, Andromeda, and Magnus. When Roddy was set on something, nobody could deter him, so he eventually got everyone together and set up camp on Lookout Mountain.
Andromeda was silent for the first half-hour, intimidated by Ultra Magnus, who had been her drill sergeant when she had first been recruited. However, Roddy's silly antics soon had her laughing as hard as anyone else.
“Hey, Op!” Roddy yelled as he crammed some Enersweets into his mouth. “Remember that mission in the Arctic?”
“Oh, yes,” Optimus chuckled, recalling the event. “You ambushed me with a snowball right to the face!”
“I did! And you tackled me and we wrestled, but I won!” Rodimus puffed out his chest in a pretense of pride.
“I remember that!” Magnus remarked. “You two were laughing so hard you could barely stand. Everyone just stood around and gaped at you.”
Roddy grinned broadly, an idea coming to him. “TAG! You're it!” he yelled, slapping Optimus on the back and racing away.
Optimus looked around to see the others jump up and run away from him. “Ah yes, I remember this game!” He saw Magnus lurking nearby and gave chase. On the way he passed a large bush and spied a flash of orange. Dodging around the bush, he ambushed Rodimus. “You're it!”
Roddy slapped him on the shoulder. “Now you're it!”
Optimus poked his chest. “Nope! You're it!”
Rodimus pounced on him, knocking them both into a giant mud puddle. “You're it! No backsies!” The two wrestled in the mud, getting themselves thoroughly covered. Andromeda and Ultra Magnus came over to see what the commotion was about, and with a conspirational grin, Optimus and Rodimus dragged them both in.
Seeing an opportunity, all three ganged up on Optimus, submerging him in mud and muck. “I give! I give!” he yelled, trying to wave his arms.
Several hours later, the group headed back to Metroplex, covered head to toe in mud, laughing so hard they could barely walk. Optimus, for once, didn't give a damn about what he looked like. He was happy, he had good friends, and that's what made life worth living. Whatever fate held in store for him, he was ready.