"Slag it!" Alita cursed as a hail of laser fire coursed down upon her ship. "I told Defcon that it wouldn't work!"

"Base to enemy vessel," the radio crackled. "Leave our airspace our you will be shot down."

"Alita One to Base," she hissed. "I have sent my identification codes. Confirm!"

"Base to vessel," the voice said nervously. "The codes have been nullified. Leave or you will be shot down."

"I can't believe this!" Alita roared. "Listen, you grunt down there! Get whoever's in charge up here on the double and tell them that Alita One requests landing clearance!"

There was bemused silence on the other end, showing that at least they were taking her request seriously. After a long stretch of moments, the weaponfire around her ceased, but the guns remained locked in on her position. The radio crackled to life once more. "Vessel, please confirm your identity. Over."

Alita sighed with relief. "Ultra Magnus, what's going on down there? I sent my clearance codes and you guys open fire on me."

Magnus was slow to reply. "Vessel, we still have not ascertained whether to give landing clearance."

"What?!!" Alita shrieked. "This is what I get after pulling off an impossible mission? I come limping back and you guys slam the door in my face! I swear, if you don't clear me I'm going to land anyway! Then I'll march into the control room, hijack the intercom, and read off a list of all the lovers you've ever had!"

The silence stretched out for eons, then finally Magnus announced, "Alita, you are cleared to land. I'll meet you in shuttle bay."

"Good. About time you set things straight. Alita One out."

Alita slowly guided the shuttlecraft into the docking bay, nearly overwhelmed by the emotions of relief that swamped her. She had never expected to return here again. She quickly shut down the engines and exited the craft, ecstatic to be on her home planet again.

Ultra Magnus slowly turned his gun away from her, aiming it at the craft, then slowly lowering it at her confused look. "Magnus, is there something wrong?" she asked.

Magnus allowed a rare grin to cross his face. "Not anymore, Alita. Primus, it's good to have you back." Swept away by emotion, he hugged her, confirming that she was indeed real.

Alita hugged him back briefly, then pulled away. "What's with the gun, Magnus?"

Ultra Magnus looked a bit shamefaced. "Sorry about that. We couldn't be sure that it was really you. The 'Cons could have stolen the codes from you, or one of them could have coerced you into flying them here. I needed some way to tell if it was really you or not, and if you had come here on your own volition. Frankly, we were mighty surprised when you turned up. Do me a favor, though? Please don't share my list of lovers with the entire base!"

Alita grinned slyly. "Don't worry, I think I'd only end up making everyone jealous." Her face darkened slightly as she looked around. "Say, where's Optimus? I thought he'd turn up to greet me too."

Magnus grew very somber. "Optimus hasn't been dealing with this whole thing very well. He hasn't talked with anyone at all once we confirmed that the Decepticon battleship had in fact been destroyed."

Alita shook her head. "I was afraid that might happen. I've got to see him right away!"

"No, Alita. The first stop is medbay. I understand that you want to see Optimus, but I'd like to make sure that you're all right, and to remove that awful Decepticon symbol if nothing else."

"I don't know, I think it rather suits me," Alita teased. Magnus looked absolutely horrified, but soon realized that it was a joke and tried to look amused, but failed miserably.

Alita impatiently endured First Aid's poking and interminable scans, all the while fretting about Prime's emotional state. She was finally pronounced in overall good condition, with the exception of a few burnt-out circuits and strained muscle cables. As she walked down the corridor to her mate's quarters, many Autobots did a double-take and conducted a diagnostic on their optics. Those that were friends ran to embrace her and begged to hear of her adventures. She returned their hugs joyfully but refused to go into any long stories until she had reassured herself that Optimus was all right. She had seen him in dark moods before and how they tore him up inside.

She hesitated at his door, a sudden thought worrying her. What if he'd changed the access code? She had a few panicked moments as the computer pondered her input, then the doors slid open. Alita automatically stepped in, then stopped short, momentarily blinded by the darkness within. As her optics quickly adjusted to the change in light, she could make out a huddled form on the recharge bed. From the way he uneasily stirred, his dreams were troubled and his sleep uneasy. She silently crept up to him, taking infinite care not to awaken him. A wave of pity swept over her as she studied his exposed face, streaked with trails of dried moisture, optics lined with exhaustion. His luster had dulled, and his overall appearance was one of weary neglect. Optimus had never been vain, but he had taken pains with his appearance, realizing that his role required him to look his best. Apparently his looks were now of little importance to him. He had most likely not recharged for days, but why? Would his conscience stalk him in his sleep?

Her hand reached out of its own accord and caressed his cheek. Her fuel pump twisted in sympathetic pain, wanting to ease his sorrows. She wanted to awaken him and assure him that she was alive, that he had no reason to feel guilty, but the voice of reason insisted against it. He needed his rest, and she didn't intend to go anywhere. It could wait until he had regained some of his strength. Still, she couldn't tear away her hand, fingers smoothing away the worry and exhaustion on his face.

She snatched her hand away as he abruptly stirred, but she was too late. Her light touches had pulled him from his light level of recharge to consciousness, as much as he could manage after weeks of unrest. His optics struggled to come online, glowing unhealthily. His vision finally focused on her, and he smiled faintly. "Such a nice dream," he sighed, placing his head on her shoulder. She caressed his helmet gently, assuring him, "This is no dream, Optimus."

A frown suddenly crossed his face, the change so abrupt that it was almost comical. "How can it not be a dream?" he sighed. "You're here...."

"Yes, I'm here, and you're not dreaming." She smiled at him gently, hands stroking his antennae, which always helped to relax him, unless he was in a frisky mood, when it only served to encourage him.

Prime's central processor puzzled through her words, running rather sluggishly. Suddenly realization hit him, and his optics widened, his jaw dropping open. Alita wasn't sure what she expected him to do -- whoop with joy, crush her in a bear hug, pass out in shock -- but what he *did* do took her by surprise. His mouth worked, struggling to voice his thoughts. "Thank Primus," he whispered, kneeling down at her feet, bowing his head. "I've been given a last chance. I may not be able to make things right again, but I can at least apologize."

"Optimus, you have nothing to apologize for," she said reassuringly.

Optimus gazed up at her, optics ablaze with pain. "Don't say that! Don't deny my pain, and your presence here. I've been granted the chance to apologize and say goodbye, and I'm not going to waste it." He clasped her hand fiercely in his own. "Alita, I--" his voice cracked slightly, "I love you. I don't know how I'm ever going to let you go. But I know I've only got a few moments with you, and I'm going to make the most of it. We've been together for almost as long as I can remember, and yet it still hasn't been enough. You deserved so much better than a few stolen moments. I know that ghosts refuse to go on to their rest because of unfinished business, and if you're here to vent your anger or seek vengeance, I won't deny you. But please let me say what's on my mind first. The guilt that weighs on my conscience is worse than any punishment I can think of. In time I may be able to live with it, but the weight will never entirely go away. I just want you to know how much you mean to me and how much I will miss you."

Alita's mouth hung open in shock. Great Cybertron, he thought she was a ghost! She prepared to interrupt, then shut her mouth with a snap. Confession seemed to be a sort of catharsis for Optimus, and he needed to relieve himself of his emotional burdens. She stroked his hand with her thumb as he gazed up at her solemnly.

"I know that I can never fully atone for your death, but I am grateful for the chance to apologize and make my peace. I could never have another relationship with another woman, for she would be placed in danger as well. I know that we had sworn long ago to continue if the other one had died, but I could never subject another to what you had to suffer because of me. Not only your death, but the daily agony of separation. It is only fitting that I atone for my error alone. I know that I don't deserve it, but I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to apologize."

Alita tugged at his shoulders, coaxing her mate to slowly rise and face her. He ducked his head, guiltily avoiding her optics. She grabbed his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. "Listen to me," she said slowly and firmly. "You have nothing to feel guilty over. Yes, it was your decision to send me and I won't belittle it. But you did what you had to do, and I knew the risks involved when I volunteered. Your decision was based on logic, the responsibility of a capable commander, not a mate. Don't beat yourself up over this."

She placed both hands on either side of his head, directing her gaze directly into his. "Believe me when I say this: *I* *am* *alive*. Not a dream, not a ghost, but *alive*!"

Optimus jerked out of her grasp, shaking his head as he took a step back, refusing to let the impossible sink in. "It can't be," he whispered. "The battleship was destroyed, and you with it. I killed you!" he cried, face lined in anguish.

Alita spread her hands out pleadingly, trying to convince him of the truth. "Look at me! I am not transparent, I am not imaginary. Use your senses, see that I am real and whole. I am not pink, the way you remember me, nor do I still wear the Decepticon symbol that would have marked me in death. I have altered my physical appearance, as I doubt a ghost or a dream could do. If you were dreaming, you'd imagine me as I were, perhaps even as Ariel from happier times."

Optimus looked far from convinced. "I know nothing about ghosts, but maybe they can choose their forms. Perhaps this is the one you selected to haunt me with."

Alita frowned. This was getting ridiculous! "I doubt I'd float around sporting fresh weld marks and a bandage plate." She showed him First Aid's recent handiwork, watching his reactions closely. Judging from the shock creeping over his face, realization was beginning to dawn. Now for the crowning touch. "And a ghost or a dream wouldn't have this." She reached out and captured his hand, holding tight as Optimus tried to draw away. She gently placed her hand over her fuel pump, secured under layers of metal. Optimus could feel the slight pulsing beneath her armor, his sensors confirming the comforting beating of her central pump, carrying lifeblood through her body.

Alita gently released his hand, but it remained in place, caressing the metal lightly, reassuring himself that he was not imagining it. Her tone turned scolding. "Why is it so hard to believe that I survived? You selected me because I was the best qualified for the mission, and now you're shocked that I succeeded. Really, Optimus, I thought you had more confidence in me than that."

Prime's optics suddenly lost their focus, staring blindly ahead in shock. Her sharp words were jerking him back to reality faster than her cooing and soothing. Alita's stern facade faded as the shock of her return finally began to set in for Optimus. His hands, trembling so badly he could hardly control them, reached out to cup her face, clumsily stroking her firm jawline. "Is it really you?" he rasped.

Alita caught one of his hands, kissing it while staring into his optics. "Yes, it's me," she whispered. "Alive and well. I'm all right, and you will be too."

Prime's knees buckled suddenly, and he would have collapsed to the ground if Alita had not grabbed him around the waist and wrestled him onto the bed. He sat there staring up at her in shock, mouth struggling to voice words. A ragged sob tore from his chest as his body began to tremble violently. Alita was frightened by his reaction -- he seemed as if he was going to shake himself apart. His naked gaze locked with hers, his walls and barriers in rubble. He looked so vulnerable and lonely, the emotional scars from his long life written on his face. A drop of cleansing fluid slipped down his cheek, followed by another. His defenses were utterly demolished, and he could not even duck his head to hide his tears. He was deathly silent as fluid trickled down his face, his quiet grief hitting harder than any sobbing fit.