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Between Mind and Heart	By : CGH Category: S through Z > Transformers (Movie Only) > Transformers (Movie Only) Views: 4656 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers movie, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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"Mikaela, I need you!"

"How?" She gasped, fighting the panic demons dancing in her ribcage.

Ratchet thrust electrical tape and wiring from the generator at her. He'd already stripped the insulation. "Connect this to my jumper cables! Hurry!"

Shaking, Mikaela used the electrical tape to marry the cables to the alligator clips attached to Ratchet's forearm. A quick job that took no more than ten seconds. "Okay!"

"Get on a crate! Don't let any part of your body touch the floor."

She did so. Her stomach turned flips and tied in knots.

Ratchet connected the jumper clips to the top and bottom of Optimus' Spark chamber. Mikaela heard the generator hum. Suddenly, sparks flew and Optimus' body arched in spasms. The charge made his eyes glow, popped his mouth open and caused his vocal processor to make groaning noises no living being ever wanted to hear. Mikaela winced even though she knew he couldn't feel it.

"C'mon, Optimus!" the medic drew back. "No Spark! Slaggit, Optimus!"

He delivered another shock and Mikaela saw miniature lightning bolts leap off Optimus' body. The smell of burnt circuitry and hot rubber permeated the air.

Ratchet blinked rapidly. His eyes were moist, desperate. He adjusted the clips and sent another round of electricity to Optimus' Spark chamber. "Please, not like Jazz. Please, Optimus..."

All Mikaela could think about were images of Optimus from the night Barricade attacked. Him, playing an air guitar and laughing. His arms becoming a soothing barrier between the past and present. The way he looked at her the afternoon they made love. He was so alive and now...in a heartbeat...he dangled by his fingertips in a void between life and death. She couldn't even offer her own hand to pull him out--helpless! She was helpless! It couldn't end this way!

"Optimus..." Whimpered Mikaela. The balled pain in her chest swelled to her throat and leaked freely down her cheeks. Stinging hot tears blurred everything into swirls of color and shadow. This couldn't be real!

Ratchet delivered six more shocks. Six violent, convulsive, smoking waves of pure high voltage that did absolutely nothing.

Mikaela huddled on the crate, waiting for the inevitable.

"...I have something!" Ratchet bent over Optimus' Spark chamber. His grave tone dissolved into elation. "I have a charge! He's still with us. He's alive...Mikaela, he's alive!"

His words were a bullet moving through sludge. Mikaela lifted her head, blinked and tried to make sense of them over her overwhelming grief, "What?"

The yellow CMO passed a gentler charge to Optimus' Spark chamber and the soft white glow gradually solidified into a pulsing electrical ball. Optimus remained unresponsive. Still, his Spark was back--he could survive anything as long as he had his Spark.

"What..." She struggled to grasp words in her muddled state. "What happened?"

Ratchet disconnected the alligator clips, slid Optimus' helm shut and laid a hand across his brow. "The virus attacked his Spark. I--almost killed him trying to online him by force. Good catch, Mikaela. You saved his life."

"You're the one holding the cables," she breathed.

"You made the discovery."

Mikaela pressed two fingers to her temples and rubbed them in small circles.

"How can a computer virus attack your Sparks? I thought they were--"

"Sparks contain data in energy form. Only medics are equipped to read them. A safety protocol more than anything. Every Spark contains the core of our personalities. They are what make us individuals. This just thinks," he tapped the side of his head. "It isn't want we are. Besides, you can animate a dead mech if you have a strong enough battery..."

"But they'd be like a vegetable, right? Not thinking, just reflexes?"

"Correct. Though, sometimes..." He simulated a sigh, "...a dead mech may have power run through their systems so their eyes still glow. We only do this in the event their friends or bond mate weren't present when they died. Like Bumblebee, for instance. I lit Jazz up for him and he found closure. I think it hurts him less only because they weren't bonded."

Mikaela shuddered. The panic she felt threatened to return. She didn't want to think about death anymore.

"Mikaela," Ratchet softened his voice, "Breathe, Mikaela. Your cortisol levels are elevated. Take deep breaths." Then he picked her up in his hands and everything inside her broke. She sobbed while he rubbed her back with his thumb, his touch as soft and gentle as Optimus'. "It's all right. Shh... Mikaela...I need the uniform resource location of this alleged website."

"You'll catch the--"

"I'll use a firewall."

Not convinced, but knowing Ratchet needed the information, Mikaela gave him the web address. His optics flickered and produced a holographic "screen" that allowed Mikaela to see the page. She watched him scan it thoroughly. When he got to the broken images, he stopped.

"There. Ah-ha! I see why it got past Optimus' security systems." Ratchet scrunched his face in disgust. Red lines appeared as he analyzed the viral coding. "The virus is built from human data--but it has a Decepticon make. Simplicity...the infection is so simple it slipped right past everything and turned every single executable program in his mainframe into a ticking bomb. His software never even noticed it was compromised. The best news of all is getting rid of it will be easy. I'll have Optimus up and running again by morning."

Mikaela frowned. Now that the shock was mostly over, she found her rational mind returning. If she could just stop shaking she'd be fine. "Why would the Decepticons leave a virus-infected website lying around?"

"Because they're sore losers," grumbled the CMO. "And many humans visit this website for science projects like the one you recently presented for your classmates. It's remarkable we haven't all been infected--many science websites link to this address, which puts millions of computers at risk. All Optimus had to do was view the site and he was infected. It's trying to infect me right now, but I have it blocked."

"Everybody in my science class probably has it on their computer," groaned Mikaela. "I wonder if I should send a mass email warning everybody."

"Good idea." Ratchet squinted at her. "Broken images...it's the perfect disguise. No one would pay them any mind and simply assume they caught the virus off one of the ads. To you, the infection is a mere annoyance. To us? A slow death. We are very fortunate the virus program is so simple. It's highly possible it's been hidden in broken images all over the internet." He tapped the side of his head, "Ratchet to Ironhide and Bumblebee."

"We hear you," Ironhide replied. He sounded downright chipper for a grouchy old cannon-wielding solder.

"I'm inoculating you with a small antivirus data string. Accept it as soon as you sense it in your databanks. It would seem the Decepticons decided to leave a parting shot. We almost lost Optimus."

"Frenzy's doing, no doubt." Bumblebee huffed, "How is Optimus right now?"

"He's a fraggin' mess! But I'll have him online by oh-five hundred. The cleanup is going to be brutally tedious. The virus did a number on his mainframe. Luckily his files and subroutines are intact...just overrun with garbage data. Wouldn't surprise me if his head ached with all the processor heat. Now, give me an update on your status."

"We're a little shot up, but it's nothing serious." Bumblebee replied. "Barricade was hiding in a junkyard on the other side of town. I suspect he knew of the virus--we had to transform several times during the skirmish and he seemed rather upset when we didn't drop dead. He escaped into the city, where chasing him put humans in danger. We had to give up the pursuit."

"Understood. Head back to base."

"Right."

They gave their parting transmissions and the radio went silent.

Tension drained out of Ratchet's body. He eased to sit on the ground and set Mikaela down next to Optimus' legs. "Would you like me to take you home before I begin?"

Mikaela's response required no thought. "No...I'd like to be here when he wakes up."

He nodded. "Then I'll get to work. Sleep if you feel the need. I'll wake you up in time to see Optimus come back online."

Sleeping at six o'clock? It sounded like such a foreign concept at the moment...but Mikaela couldn't deny the exhaustion following her panic. She sat on the pile of bright blue tarps near the back wall. From there she saw the length of Optimus' body lying on the floor while Ratchet bent diligently over him with the caring eyes of a doctor. He placed Optimus' hands at his sides, pausing long enough to hold one before laying it across his chest. Every movement was gentle. Mikaela sleepily thought Ratchet resembled a father watching over a sleeping child.

"It's going to be all right, Optimus," Ratchet whispered.

Mikaela stretched out on her stomach with her head pillowed on her folded arms. She tried to shove the horrid events of the day out of her mind. It fit nicely next to the decision she still hadn't made regarding who to love. Did people even have control over who they loved?

Did Autobots?

.o

"Mikaela!"

"Hm?" She cracked an eye open. Chilly air blew in through the open warehouse doors. The lights were off, so the only illumination came from pale street lights and the brightening skyline just barely visible over Bumblebee's yellow shoulder.

"It's oh-four fifty two. Optimus' database is defragementing itself. He should be online in the next few minutes."

Groggily, Mikaela rubbed her eyes, "Wow, I don't remember falling asleep..."

"You snore," Ironhide bent over her. If she didn't know him--if she hadn't seen the loving way he looked at Ratchet in the field--she would have wet her pants at the sight of his huge, angry-looking face filling her view. His mouth and optics were tilted in a metallic smile. Behind him, Bumblebee stifled a rude snicker.

"I don't snore," she answered through the dry, cottony taste in her mouth. "C'mon, isn't Sleeping Beauty over there about to wake up?"

Ratchet carried her over to Optimus. He did nothing to deter her when she climbed onto Optimus' left chest plate and sat down to wait. She could hear the soft clicks of his Spark speed up as his electrical system sent power throughout his body.

"Come on now," Mikaela reached out and stroked the blue plate on Optimus' chin, "Wake up, Optimus."

Optimus' eyes flickered to life, blinked and focused first on Mikaela. He smiled at her in the same moment the sun's first light poured into the warehouse doors and outlined his face plates. Light shone in his optics, too, but it wasn't the sun. Everything Optimus was reached out to her through those twin pools of living azure.

"M-Mikaela..."

His voice cracked her down the middle.

"Optimus," Leaning over, Mikaela fought the desire to kiss the life right back out of him--size difference be-damned. She stared straight into his eyes and punched his chin instead. Like slugging a tank, but she didn't care. "Never scare me like that again!" Then she clapped her throbbing hand over her eyes and desperately fought back the waves of emotion lashing her mental walls.

Optimus blinked at the blow and gently cupped his hand around her back. She reached up and grasped his thumb joint. Nothing compared to the relief of seeing him conscious again.

"I knew you had a mean left hook," he winked one eye shut and used his free hand to rub his jaw. "That actually hurt."

Mikaela made a face. "Sorry..."

"He sounds okay to me!" Bumblebee laughed and lightly punched Ironhide's arm.

"It's good to have you back, Optimus." Ironhide said in a composed tone. Then he "gently" slugged Bumblebee back and sent him crashing to the floor.

"Hey!" Ratchet snarled, "Don't go breaking each other! My old processors are fragged enough!" Then he turned back to Optimus and moved a finger before his optics, "Follow my finger."

Optimus performed beautifully. His optics moved in synch and focused without a single hiccup.

"Ratchet, I'm functioning at one hundred percent. Thank you."

"No. Thank Mikaela. She's the one who realized you had a virus in your mainframe."

Those stunningly beautiful blue optics shifted and Mikaela once again found herself falling into their depths. "Then it seems I owe both you and Sam my life."

Mikaela clung to the top of his chest armor. Maybe later, she'd personally tell him how glad she was that he made it through this alive. She ran a hand over her tangled hair and smiled instead, "Ah, it's fine. Your being all right is thanks enough. Ratchet did all the work."

Nodding, Optimus' attention moved off her and focused on the others. "What happened while I was offline?"

Bumblebee knelt--a movement oddly graceful for someone of his size--and spoke, "Barricade began to pursue me just as I passed the bridge a block from Sam's house. I immediately dropped Sam off and headed west--towards the areas of least population. At the bridge, we both transformed, which was the point where I radioed for assistance."

"It was a duck chase," Ironhide sneered.

"Goose chase, you mean?" Mikaela corrected him.

"Whatever! All I know is that slagger gave us the slip. He'd shoot us up, run, shoot us up..."

Ratchet calmly held up a hand, "Well, like I said before, he probably assumed you'd been infected by the virus and was attempting to hasten its effects."

"But he gave away his hideout--he'll use a different location now, I'm sure, but I know where he's likely to lurk," said Bumblebee. He nodded to himself and straightened, his big, blue eyes glimmering softly in the morning light.

Mikaela noticed Optimus didn't seem to hear a single word anybody said since they started talking. His body was here, but his mind looked miles away.

"Optimus?"

"I'm all right. Just...thinking." He dragged himself back to the present conversation, "I suppose we have to keep a closer watch outside. Barricade may be searching the parameter of the city for our hideout. I'll grant him one thing--he is a smart warrior and capable of catching any one of us off-guard. Now..." He scratched the side of his head, "Ratchet, when you have a moment, I need to speak with you alone."

Twenty minutes later, Mikaela walked into the bathroom in the back room while Optimus and Ratchet talked outside. She didn't mean to eavesdrop...but they were unknowingly right outside the little window above the toilet, so she heard everything.

"Ratchet..." Optimus' low voice carried uncertainty, "Something strange happened to me."

"Are you still lagging?"

"No. No, no...I'm talking about while I had the virus. I...oh, how do I explain this? I experienced something...incredible. But--when I search my memory banks, I find no record of it. Yet..."

"What did you experience?"

"Lights. Dancing lights--"

"Ah! That's just the charge returning to your processors. Your Spark went out, you know. I had to jump you. Your whole system was electrified, including your visual, auditory and tactile processors."

"I--know, but--"

"Optimus, your body and Spark experienced severe trauma because of the Jumpers."

"I don't know about that, Ratchet. What I experienced...it was beautiful..." Optimus' voice took an awed tone, "I heard music. I felt--"

"Optimus, I'm telling you--it's nothing remarkable. Remember the time I walked into power lines in Sam's back yard? I heard whistling noises and saw colored lights for a few seconds myself. Your motherboard received electric signals without your processor to make sense of them, so you saw lights and heard noises. It's normal."

"...for hours?"

"Bah! Hours?" the medic laughed, "Your Spark was likely out for no more than thirty seconds. You must be mistaking this experience with the time you spent trapped in stasis lock. That lasted a few hours, yes."

"Then why do my memory banks contain no records of it?"

"Because you weren't conscious. You can't store data without your Spark. I thought you knew that."

"I...do." Optimus' voice dipped low in frustration.

"Get back on duty. That might take your mind off this nonsense."

Mikaela wanted to scream at Ratchet to let Optimus talk. But the CMO just wouldn't listen to anything Optimus had to say. She finally heard Optimus simulate a sigh and walk back towards the front of the base.

Finishing up, she washed her hands and met Optimus when he came around the corner. He was a glistening, moving spire in the cold morning glow, but he didn't seem to notice how pretty the horizon was.

"Are you okay, Optimus?"

Optimus immediately brightened. His form became blocky as he shape shifted into his vehicular form. "I feel wonderful, Mikaela. Much better than I have in the past week." He popped his passenger side door open for her. She gratefully climbed into his warm interior.

"I..." she blushed and pulled the door shut, "...kinda overheard you and Ratchet. You were right outside the bathroom."

"Oh?"

"What did you see?"

"It was so peaceful...the light and the dark." Optimus' hologram materialized in the driver's seat. His eyes were haunted. "Energy..." He simulated another sigh and rubbed a finger over the bridge of his nose. For a moment Mikaela thought he might punch his own steering wheel. "Nevermind...I don't wish to discuss it."

"It's okay." Mikaela didn't fight her burning desire to lean over and embrace him. Confusion about love be-damned, she needed to hug him. "You scared me, Optimus...I thought I was watching you die."

"Mikaela," Optimus eased her fully into the seat with him and brushed his mouth against her forehead, which sent fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm still here, Mikaela. Shh, oh, don't cry, it's all right now. I'm going to be fine."

She clung to his chest plates and hated herself for crying so much in front of him. "I thought...I thought what we did made your condition worse. I thought I killed you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

"Shh," he stroked her hair, "Mikaela, look at me."

Looking into his optics hurt in ways she couldn't explain

"You didn't do anything wrong. If anything it's my fault for not listening when you said I was freezing." He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears, "And for that I am sincerely sorry. So--uh...wait...do you have school today?"

"Not today. It's Saturday. Which is good. My mom has double shifts on Saturday, so I won't go home and have her scream at me for being out all night."

"She does it because she loves you and is worried."

"I know. But I hate listening to it."

"Oh...I think I understand that feeling." Optimus pointedly glanced towards the warehouse. "You've never seen Ratchet on a rampage."

"How will I know when to take cover?"

Optimus chuckled into her hair, "When tools start flying."

Mikaela giggled and let her cheek rest on his cool chest plating. She pondered loving him into overload--and just as quickly dismissed the thought. He could still be injured from the shocks Ratchet delivered...and she'd never forgive herself if she caused him undue damage.

But his lap was comfortable despite being made of metal. She'd sit in it forever if time and space allowed it. Sadly, they didn't. She pushed herself reluctantly back into the passenger seat and brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. "I really do need to go home. I need to shower, change my clothes and..." Her stomach rumbled, making her blush, "eat something."

"I will never get used to the odd sounds human bodies make." Optimus tipped his head back, smiled and chuckled. He always looked charming and open when he did that. "If you like, I can take you home."

Mikaela couldn't resist returning his smile. It really was remarkable how such a subtle change in his face could turn him from somber to almost angelic. And with a simple flicker of his eyes she saw how he felt about her and how she made him feel.

She made him happy...

.o

...too bad life couldn't grant her the same favor. The euphoric relief Mikaela felt when Optimus awoke evaporated the moment she stepped on her doorstep and watched him roll away.

I could always break it off with both of them and skip town. But I ran away twice last year...funny how I always end up crawling back to this house.

Taking a hot shower did little to quell the storm raging through her mind. Every wall seemed to have Optimus or Sam written on it in invisible ink. There was Optimus, who she could talk to about anything and not worry about being judged. Or there was Sam, who didn't treat her like the school slut and knew how to make her laugh. Why was it so hard?

"Dammit!" Mikaela tried to wipe away the shampoo that dripped hot daggers into her eyes. "Argh!"

The shower was a bust. Mikaela got out and started to dry off. The morning kept getting better and better--she found blood on the towel. Great. On top of everything else, she had to get her period. That explained why her lower pelvic region had been aching off and on. At least she didn't gush blood all over Optimus' passenger seat. Or worse...having Ratchet think she was hemorrhaging to death. She made a face and unwrapped a tampon.

Ten minutes later, her hair still wet, Mikaela headed into the kitchen to cook herself an omelet with ham and cheese in the center. It tasted great--mostly because she sat down to enjoy it and spent the entire time thinking of how she'd describe the textures to someone with no taste buds.

The phone rang. She grabbed it, "Hello?"

"Hey, Mikaela!"

"Oh, hi there, Sam!" Mikaela smiled at the ceiling, "What's up?"

"Nothin'. Just thinking about you. I heard last night was pretty scary."

"Mm...it was. But Optimus is okay. Are you okay?"

He laughed, "I think I'm getting used to the weirdness. How are you?"

"Not feeling so good," this time she wasn't lying. The full effects of her glorious uterus were making themselves known in the worst way. She crossed her legs and bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "I probably need more sleep. I slept a little...but it feels like I didn't."

"Aw, Mikaela...you sure?"

"Yeah. Sorry...can I call you later?"

"Huh? Sure! I'm going to take Bee to the car wash. He splashed in mud or something and I need to wash it off. He complains that it itches."

If the car wash gets Bumblebee off...I'm so going to laugh at you, Mikaela thought to herself. "I'm sure he'll enjoy the car wash. Too bad we can't afford to send them all through."

She could hear Sam grinning on the other end, "Maybe someday we can surprise them. The Boss might be a bit harder. You might have to wash him by hand."

"We need to make a sign. 'Giant Robot Spa.'"

Sam shifted his phone around while he guffawed, "Decepticons will be acid washed."

Now Mikaela joined his mirth. She could imagine Sam lying across his bed, his feet up against the wall while he scratched Mojo behind the ears. She thought about how the short hairs on the back of his neck felt like velvet under her fingertips. How silky his lips were against her skin. His big, shiny blue-gray eyes and cute, pouty frown.

Cute always came to mind when she thought of Sam.

"Mikaela? You there?"

"Huh? Ah, sorry, yeah, I'm here."

"I wish I could come over. I'd put my arm around you and let you sleep on my shoulder if you want. Being sick sucks."

Mikaela almost blurted that she was on her period, not sick. Ratchet and his tendency towards too much info threatened to rub off on her more than once.

"Yeah. I should probably lay down for awhile."

"Okay. Feel better, Mikaela."

She smiled despite her heavy heart. "Thanks. Talk to you later."

"Buh-bye."

"Bye."

She hung up when he did and covered her eyes with one hand. Was it hormones or emotion that sent tears springing against her eyelashes? The constant feeling of her lower half trying to claw its way out through her intestines and tailbone made thinking almost impossible. Taking Midol didn't help at all.

Mikaela forgot her half-eaten breakfast on the table. She trudged upstairs to her comfortable pillow-top mattress with the royal blue covers and flopped facedown across its softness. On the nightstand was a framed photo of her father, whose steel blue eyes and wavy dark hair were the features she'd inherited. He had a mustache and a strong jaw--people always claimed it made him just like Sam Elliott. Mikaela agreed...and Sam Elliott was a pretty good actor.

"I miss you, daddy," she whispered. Then she groaned and squirmed under the covers, not caring that her wet hair left streaks all over the pillow.

.o

It was dark out the next time Mikaela found her way back to the waking world. Her cell phone was ringing and the noise cut into her mind like a thousand jackhammers the size of sewing needles. She felt around her nightstand until she found the annoyance and dragged it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Sam came by and mentioned you weren't feeling well. I thought I'd check on you." Optimus' voice purred through the line. No salutations, just right to the point.

Mikaela almost dropped the phone in shock. Optimus never made leisure calls like this! "Um...I'm--I'm all right. Heh, heh...wow...you're the last voice I expected to hear on my phone. Sorry if I sound a bit weird."

He chuckled, the sound rich like thunder and heat. "I missed our sunset chat. However, I won't keep you if you aren't feeling well. I did want to inform you that I sent you an electronic mail."

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes. I hope you'll be feeling better soon, Mikaela. Ratchet says hot water bottles are good for...er...dysmenorrheal pain."

Great, Ratchet can tell I'm going to have my period before I do. I bet he's a walking pregnancy test, too. Flushed, Mikaela let her head flop facedown into her pillow. She muffled, "Tell him he's not my gynecologist."

He chortled, "Duly noted."

She smiled and sat up to look out her window. The full moon looked like a cheese-ball rising over the palm trees across the street. "Are you outside right now?"

"I am, yes." And then, as if he read her mind, he went on, "The moon looks beautiful, doesn't it?"

They were looking at the same moon. Her, through filmy blue curtains and him...she imagined him standing outside the warehouse, a tall, jagged silhouette against the starry horizon. If she closed her eyes it was almost like sitting on his shoulder, watching it with him.

"Yeah," she said over the heat in her throat. "Did Cybertron have a moon?"

"No...but it did have a fantastic view of the galactic plane."

"You must miss it."

"Immensely, Mikaela." The truth in his voice hurt. He could adjust to Earth all he wanted, but he'd still miss his real home. "You soften the blow."

God, don't make it so hard, Optimus! "I'm...glad."

"Oh! Here I am prattling when you should be resting. Mikaela, I should let you go. Will you be all right?"

"Mmhmm." No...not really. "I'll read your email soon."

"Cool." Optimus' inner dork manifested itself in his sagely delivery of that simple word. He didn't notice and continued, "Good night."

"G'night, Optimus."

His line didn't click, it merely fell silent.

Mikaela wished her heart would do the same. Sometimes she wanted to throttle Optimus. Every time she thought she'd made her decision, he'd pop up and be wonderful, which stirred her feelings for him right back to the surface.

Groaning yet again, Mikaela reached for her laptop. Might as well read his email now. Maybe he sent her a corny E-card. She got to her inbox and smiled at his email address.

"I Need Mud Flaps at Yahoo dot com...geez, Optimus, you're a dork."

But her amusement didn't last long once she read the subject line. She knew immediately that the email was all about the topic he refused to discuss earlier.

Settling down on her stomach, she placed her finger on the down arrow and read.

From- OP "ineedmudflaps@yahoo.com"

To- Mikaela "mikbanes101@earthlink.net"

Subject- My experience
Dearest Mikaela,
I find it difficult to verbalize this...experience...I had. You might even say "you had to be there" to fully comprehend what I saw and felt.

I am not asking you to believe me. I am not asking you to judge. I simply ask that you read this. Something happened to me, Mikaela. Something profound with effects I do not fully understand. I wish to recount this experience and this is the only way I know how. Whether it was real, images created by the virus or the result of electricity rushing back into my processors...I can not say. The one thing I do know is what transpired was real to ME.

And the events occurred as follows...

I entered recharge mode with no idea I would be forced into stasis. All attempts to reboot my processors failed. My systems were completely locked and I could not activate beyond initializing my electrical system. I was not aware of the outside world, but still completely aware of myself and my helpless situation. I could not move, I couldn't even cry out for help. I can't say how long I remained this way because my chronometer doesn't boot up until after I activate my electrical systems. I knew then my problem wasn't physical, but in my software. The virus had been slowly filling my processors with garbage data.

Fear does not usually paralyze me. I never had time to think about fear and its effects. I always acted on it--faced its source. Helplessness has always been my greatest fear, as you well know. To be crippled, unable to save myself or those around me. It is a cold feeling, Mikaela. Colder than the iciest depths of the universe.

It seemed like hours before my mainframe came online--this must be the point you and Ratchet realized my malfunction was software-based and not a faulty processor. We communicated briefly, I clearly remember that.

Ratchet tried to "boot me up" as you humans call it. He accidentally sent more virus flooding into my electrical system. This system keeps my Spark burning.

I felt my own Spark go out. It's not uncommon for a mech to remain conscious for a few seconds after their Spark is extinguished. Just long enough for the residual charge in their wiring to decay.

I had a moment of hyper awareness. Everything I was filled the warehouse. Had I become the air itself? The walls? The ceiling? The floor? I saw everything--you, Ratchet, the spider building a web in the corner, my own body...I was lying on my back and both of my arms were spread out to the side. I could see into my own Spark chamber. It was dark, devoid of my essence, but I didn't care. The sense of detachment is difficult to describe. I wasn't concerned about my predicament. I simply watched, passively. I witnessed you and Ratchet converting the warehouse generator into a makeshift Spark Jumper. I saw myself convulse, but I felt none of the current delivered to my Spark chamber--and a sudden, high-voltage shock to the chamber is excruciatingly painful. Life-saving, but painful enough to feel even while offline.

I saw Ratchet jump me twice.

On the second shock, my reality went black. You wouldn't think blackness can get any darker than BLACK...yet this blackness did. It...vibrated...and I felt a tremendous force pulling me in all directions. Suddenly, I saw circuitry. It surrounded me. It was so dark and dismal, Mikaela, I felt so incredibly alone. Not afraid--just alone, and smaller than dust.

This is where my experience grows strange.

Something gives me the impression that I "blinked"--call it my mind taking a snapshot--and then, to my surprise, I beheld Earth in all its blue glory. I distinctly remember seeing it rise before me as a brilliant blue crescent that I only dimly recognized.

For a time I forgot I had ever lived--as far as I knew I had always been there, a particle of space dust floating several hundred miles above your world.

Again, I "blinked." Earth fell away. Perhaps I'm the one who suddenly shot off into the void. Hard to say because I had no sense of motion. Earth became a point of light no larger than a star. Odd as it sounds, the single speck of light...began to behave illogically like smoke. Undulating, curling, even dancing, and it changed colors as it moved. I found myself wanting to join it, to become that movement. I wanted this more and more the larger it grew. Its dance increased in speed, color and complexity, and created a fantastic chord in the silence. No music from any world can compare to the sound I heard. Incredible, like...like every vibration ever made in the universe condensed into a single, perfect note and I became the instrument responsible for the sound. I literally saw in sound and heard in color. I know that goes against logic, optics see and audios hear...but for that moment everything defied all universal laws. None of my senses where what they seemed.

I let myself melt into this light. Perhaps it became me, or I became it...there are no words to describe the feeling. I had no sense of myself. No optics, no arms, no legs, no body at all--there was just the light and sound all around. And I let it consume me.

A curl of this wondrous glow separated from the rest. It spiraled, grew, and the next time I "blinked" I was staring at Megatron.

Megatron, Mikaela...my beloved Bright Eyes whom I never thought I'd see again. His paint was fresh, his head crest unfurled and his smile as radiant as the light. I saw right through him. He was not solid, yet he touched me. How this is possible when I had no body is utterly illogical and beyond my comprehension.

I touched his face. Without hands, I touched the face of my love! He was as real to me as you are. As real as the hand I'm waving in front of my face while I compose this. He felt warm, smooth, ALIVE...

We loved in the light, Mikaela. We made love for hours. His kiss generated sparks larger than a supernova and created waves in the stillness. It was rapture, pure rapture, to lie in his arms again. He held my gaze with the patience of unimaginable time and spoke these cryptic words--

"Energy never vanishes. It changes."

Then he led me deeper into the glowing smoke and I saw a spiral galaxy much like the ones you see via your Hubble Space Telescope. Upon closer inspection, I realized this galaxy was made of Sparks. Every Spark--each one a person who had hopes, dreams and desires--belonged to those who died in the war.

How do I know this?

Jazz. Jazz was there. I don't know how I knew because I did not see him, though I sensed his presence somewhere in the throng. In fact, I sensed every Cybertronian who had ever lived. It is the strangest feeling to feel...everything.

Megatron led me to the center of the galaxy. There, complete but for the one tiny fragment it left behind as a reminder, was the Cube. It was tipped at an angle, rotating gently on one corner. Its presence bound the "galaxy" together like a magnet. Merely looking at it filled me with incredible knowledge. Uniting it with Megatron's Spark changed its form and purpose. The Cube transformed from a force from which all Sparks come to a metaphysical entity to which all Sparks return. It housed a being I only faintly perceived--something alive, aware and always watching with the most paternal care. All Cybertronians are its children. It loves us.

I wanted to join this cosmic understanding. I wanted to stay with Megatron and never leave his side again. But Megatron furled his crest and gazed down at me. Sadly, the first sadness I had seen since I arrived. His red optics surrounded me. He seemed suddenly immense and the galaxy of Sparks spun like an accretion disk in the lower corner of his left optic.

"Bright Eyes," I reached for him. Oh, how I yearned to melt into him! "Megatron..."

Megatron once again kissed me, filling me with his vast and undying love. With that kiss, my mate transformed back into smoke. I lost sight of the Allspark--better to write it as one word now--and the only sensation I felt was Megatron's nonexistent arms wrapping around shoulders I did not have.

I felt a downward pull. Megatron's hands or my own power, I can't be sure. He stunned me with the radiance of his usual, soft smile, "Optimus, I will never hate you for setting me free."

He sensed my question...he sensed what I was afraid to ask and answered it. And put me at ease. The pain of our war and separation floated away like a dying star's outer shell of gas. Peace rushed in to replace the pain. So...warm...the most intimate, gentle comfort came over me.

I "blinked" again, and saw Megatron's smile fading into the dark. He was smoke, but I still saw him smiling at me in the distance. The wonderful music I'd been a part of ceased playing, leaving me in complete silence.

"I love you!" I shouted, "My Bright Eyes, I love you!"

Over and over, I shouted into the void. I don't know if he heard me.

I fell all the way to Earth, and this time I experienced the full sensation of plummeting. The planet rushed up at me. Everything was a blur except for a square of central vision. I glimpsed myself sprawled on the warehouse floor a second before I slammed into my left cheek plate. I sank, but I was oddly buoyant, and slowly surfaced into the servo-jarring agony of being Spark Jumped. Oh, I was angry to be called back! So angry, confused and grieving for moments I'll never have again.
There it is. The full account of my experience. So real, so intense, and I can't find any sign of it in my memory chips. I've scanned them all and NOTHING. It...it frustrates me.

Please...do you think we can discuss this face to face? You are the only person who seems willing to listen to me as Optimus...as opposed to Prime. I need to be 'Optimus' right now.

Thank you for taking the time to read this gratuitously long electronic message. I'll be waiting for your response.
--Optimus
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Between Mind and Heart