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Shadows of Tomorrow	By : Breech_Loader Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Het - M/F Views: 1756 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
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Shadows of Tomorrow

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

~~~

Harley: Not much left now. You didn't find out about the Oblivion Virus last chapter now I've checked. You found out slightly earlier. And now you’ll have to find out more.

Froggy: Major worries are that this is unfair. But we’re reaching the end of the fanfic now. Not quite the end. But getting close.

~~~

Chapter Twenty: Poisonous Intentions

Ratchet knocked calmly on the door to Optimus Prime's chambers. Hotwire was now currently in the cells with Barricade, but it wasn't a situation that could be maintained indefinitely. Ratchet wasn't even sure that he wanted it to be a situation that was maintained indefinitely, but the important thing was that Optimus Prime, as their leader, was made aware of the difficult situation they were now in. As usual, the medic waited patiently outside the door until he was summoned in. He personally hoped that by setting an example, people would stop bursting into his offices.

After a few moments, Optimus Prime opened the door for his medical officer, surprised to see him at this time, "Ratchet? Please come in. What is the matter?" the Autobot leader asked, standing aside to let his comrade in.

Ratchet entered, closed the door, and made a noise not unlike the clearing of a throat, "Quite by chance, after Barricade was brought into our headquarters, I found a data disc containing certain confidential files on our... guest, Hotwire. I felt I should alert you to the nature of these files as soon as possible."

Optimus frowned. He didn't look very highly on spying on others, but Hotwire was still under suspicion and a possible threat to the base. If level-headed Ratchet thought that he found something important on her, it would be smart to listen, "What have you discovered?"

"Well, I have already informed you that she has spent time at an open asylum,” Ratchet said, “But the major problem rests in the fact that her confidential files reveal that she knows the location of a deadly digital virus constructed by Decepticon scientists, and also of its antidote," Ratchet continued, "I've heard of the Oblivion Virus myself. It was considered too dangerous and non-discriminatory to be used in the war."

"The Oblivion Virus?" Prime asked in surprise. He knew that Decepticons had worked before on digital weapons before, although the details were sketchy. Ratchet was rather more knowledgeable in such matters, "Tell me more,” he said.

Ratchet nodded, "The Oblivion Virus is specifically designed to destabilize the electron/proton relationship of the electric charge as it passes through it. In effect, the Oblivion Virus kills electricity. Its effect on the Spark would in theory be catastrophic. What is worse is that the virus is highly contagious."

A virus that disrupted the flow of electricity of a Cybertronian was one of the most horribly lethal weapons Prime had ever heard of. The constant flow of electrical energy was as important to him as oxygen was for humans, "And Hotwire knows the location of this weapon,” Prime repeated, suddenly seeing the problem involved in letting Hotwire go, "We can't allow her to reveal what she knows to the remaining Decepticons."

"That is true," Ratchet nodded, "But Hotwire is hardly likely to tell us where it is hidden. Why would she? She's had it for millennia now, and she hasn't handed it over to anybody, ‘con or ‘bot, but she hasn't destroyed it either."

"It's only a game for her, then. It's a threat to everyone else, Autobot, Decepticon, or any civilisation advanced enough to rely upon electricity,” Prime spoke gravely, standing up tall, "Such a weapon must not be allowed to exist."

"Hotwire still probably believes she's going to be released," Ratchet pointed out mildly, "I can't think of any acceptable methods that would successfully persuade her to hand over the discs, or to reveal their location."

It was obvious to Prime that despite the aid they had rendered her, Hotwire currently leaned more towards the Decepticon camp than his own, mostly due to an intense loyalty to Barricade. And Barricade had an intense loyalty to his own superiors. If he discovered that she knew the location of a weapon capable of destroying the Autobots... well, he would have little choice but to tell them. And they would show the femme absolutely no mercy in their quest for the weapon, "We can't allow her to leave,” Prime sighed, pained by the decision he was forced to make, "The danger is too great that our enemies will learn what we have."

"She won't be happy with such a decision," said Ratchet, "I can't say I'm completely at ease with it either, despite her attitude."

"The alternative would be far worse,” Optimus explained patiently to his medical officer, "It is not just her life in danger here; it is all of our lives, everything we have fought so hard to achieve. I don't like this any more than you do, but what other choice do we have?"

Ratchet nodded; he agreed entirely with his commanding officer on this, "It's rather fortunate then, that she's already in a cell with Barricade," he replied.

"Convenient, perhaps,” Prime agreed quietly, "For us, at least." The leader of the Autobots looked away as he asked his old friend, "Ratchet... is there any forgiveness at all within Hotwire?"

Ratchet gave this some consideration, "For all her qualities, I have never attributed cruelty as one of them," he admitted, "She is not evil, not in the fashion that we have seen Megatron or Starscream or Bonecrusher act. She merely lacks empathy."

It was a hopeful statement, something that relieved Prime somewhat, but it wasn't quite what the Autobot leader was digging for, "But will she forgive us?" he asked.

Ratchet didn't seem so sure of this, "I'm not sure," he admitted, "I've never yet asked for her forgiveness."

"You never thought you did anything that needed it,” Prime concluded, although his own thoughts on the matter remained ambiguous, "But I will have forgiveness to ask. If she doesn't accept it, then we will have gained another enemy... if she wasn't one already." Optimus Prime shook his head.

"With respect, Optimus," Ratchet asked, "Why are you asking for her forgiveness?"

"I said that she would not become a prisoner. I said that she would be freed. I said that I would uphold my ideals,” Prime explained to Ratchet, glancing at the wall, "I have failed at all of those."

Ratchet nodded. Optimus Prime was probably one of his best and oldest friends, and he had no doubt that the leader felt extremely lacking for failing in these areas, "I understand," he said calmly, "But these circumstances are not of your causing. As our leader you must deal with many eventualities."

"Yes, I must,” Prime agreed, suddenly turning towards the door, "And I must deal with this myself." The prison cells were not far down from his chambers. He wanted to speak with Hotwire about this, alone, and give her the one chance she had to make this all turn out alright.

~~~

In the cells, Hotwire was quietly curled up on the bunk and recharging, her arms wrapped loosely around Barricade. She did not wake up when Prime entered the cells, or even stir.

Barricade, however, was still passively alert as he cradled Hotwire in his arms, and his optics snapped on when he noticed the third person in the cell, "Prime,” he growled up at the Autobot leader, waking Hotwire as he shifted on the bunk.

The femme shifted and woke up, looking up at Prime. She looked surprised for a moment, as if this wasn't an encounter she had been expecting, and then her expression became passive as she sat up. She didn't seem to be at all embarrassed at the fact that she had been caught curled up like a sparkling in Barricade's embrace.

"Hotwire, I need to speak to you... privately,” Optimus Prime told her, glancing briefly at Barricade. As he expected, Barricade didn't like that idea, as he expressed through the dangerous glare he gave the Autobot leader, and the way his arms curled more possessively around Hotwire.

Hotwire stood up quietly, detaching herself from Barricade, "Why?" she asked him simply. As before, she displayed her inability to concentrate on more than one person at a time.

"I said we must speak alone,” Prime repeated patiently, "Outside of this cell, and away from the sensors of others."

Hotwire turned and looked at Barricade, then looked back at Prime, then back at Barricade again. It was almost as if she couldn't grasp the idea of them both existing at the same time. Eventually she managed to 'get it', and returned her attention to Prime, "Well... very well," she said, sounding slightly confused.

"Don't trust him,” Barricade warned her as Prime opened the cell and gestured for her to follow him out.

"Thank you for your concern," Hotwire told Barricade, "But I think I can handle this." She followed Optimus Prime out of the cell, her hands winding nervously around each other. Through the bond, Barricade felt her smothering confusion with confidence.

Once they were out of the cell and away from Barricade, Prime turned to face the smaller robot, calmly telling her, "I know about the Oblivion Virus."

Hotwire didn't even flinch, "What? What's an Oblivion Virus?" she asked, her round features the very picture of innocence and confusion.

Prime hadn't expected her to be immediately open about the virus, "It's a digital weapon designed by the Decepticons and then abandoned because of its dangerousness. But, you already know that. And you know where it is,” he continued.

"How would you know that I know where it is?" Hotwire asked him, her confused and innocent expression becoming one of suspicion, "And," she added, "That's not an admission."

"It is not important,” Prime tried to deflect the suspicion, "The point is that I know. You have knowledge of a weapon too terrible to use or for any being to possess, which begs the question; why have you not destroyed it?"

"My disc," Hotwire continued without answering his question, glaring magnificently, "You've got my disc! You've been reading my confidential files! That's the only way you could possibly know that the Oblivion Virus even exists! I made sure of it!"

"One of the Autobots came across it and informed me of its content,” he corrected her, "I apologise for this, but we have more important matters to discuss now."

"What's more important than my confidential files?" Hotwire snarled, "I spent a lot of time erasing the existence of the Oblivion Virus from Cybertronian history. If it stops being a myth again do you have any idea of how many people will be after me?"

"Yes, and they will stop at nothing to drag the secret from you,” Prime answered her, fully understanding the sort of danger she was in.

Hotwire just sneered, "Well, I know how to keep a secret; do you?" she asked Prime.

"I'll try, but it doesn't matter,” Prime told her bluntly, staring down at the renegade medic, "The virus must be destroyed. There is no excuse for allowing such a weapon to exist."

"And I suppose you're the only person responsible enough to allow it to do so," Hotwire sneered again. Prime couldn't see her optics under her visor, but she sounded both angry and tired.

"Responsibility has nothing to do with it,” Prime snapped at her, growing tired with her taunting tone and thinly-veiled insults.

"Really?" Hotwire didn’t seem any more inclined to be helpful, "Why, then, should I tell you of all people where it is? You're just as likely as any Decepticon to use it for war. Nobody is going to get the chance to use it. It belongs to me now."

"People's lives are not something you can just toy with, Hotwire!" Prime spoke harshly, taking another step closer, "I won't let you."

"How are you going to stop me?" Hotwire returned, her temper deteriorating, "You're an Autobot; what do you plan to do about it?"

"Whatever it takes,” Optimus replied, even as he knew it was a bluff. There were some things he couldn't bring himself to do, no matter what the cause, "This isn't some toy, Hotwire. It's a weapon that could kill us all," he added.

Hotwire crossed her arms over her chassis, "I'm not afraid of you, Prime," she informed him, "I'm not afraid of ANYTHING. You're weak. Most people are."

Anger boiled inside of Optimus Prime, at the nerve she had to talk to him that way after all he had risked for her sake. He fought the anger, shoved it down and pinned it inside his core, "You're mistaken,” he growled, "But I don't have to prove anything to you," the leader of the Autobots stared down at Hotwire, frowning, and added, "You're not afraid because you don't care, or you're not afraid because you're stupid. Either way, it seems that you're the one who is weak."

"Stupid?!" Hotwire now had a venomous glare on her face, "I am NOT stupid! And I am not weak!" She drew herself up, "You want that ridiculous virus? Well, it's not going ANYWHERE!"

"I don't want the virus; I want it destroyed!" Prime shot back, "Maybe you don't care if you live or die, but others do!"

"You don't even understand why I keep it," Hotwire snapped.

"Then why do you keep it?" the Autobot leader asked her.

"Because it's a way to remain in control," Hotwire answered coldly, "You don't have it, but I do. One day it will be the best way to mess with people, ever."

"So that's what this is all about? 'Messing with people'?" Prime asked, shaking his head disgustedly, "That's not only weak, but it's also sick. You need to be repaired, Hotwire. And I can't allow you to leave this base until that virus is destroyed."

"You'll never find it," Hotwire returned, looking rather smug, "And you can't force me to stay. I won't stay just because you think it best."

"Then you'll stay because you're confined to a cell,” Optimus Prime replied with a sigh, "We won't use the virus, but the Decepticons will. I can't risk them getting hold of the virus. I'm sorry."

Hotwire gave the situation a few seconds thought, "This is just because I'm involved with Barricade, isn't it?" she said, glaring at Prime and flourishing a hand, "If I was siding with you, we wouldn't have this problem."

"It doesn't help matters, but I'd still react the same otherwise. You haven't shown an affinity for trust,” Prime informed her.

"Of course not, I'm interfacing with a Decepticon," Hotwire sneered, "Oh, the horror, the horror of it all."

"The horror of it all is that you have in your possession one of the most dangerous digital weapons in existence, and you don't care,” Optimus was quick to point out.

“Is that the best excuse you can make up?” Hotwire asked, “Why care, anyway? Somebody always gets hurt. If you don’t care, you don’t get hurt. What is the deal with you Autobots and caring?”

"Self-preservation, perhaps? A basic desire to see your continued existence?" Prime spoke, trying to pick at some very basic concepts in Hotwire's mind, "Your programming is broken. Can't you see that?"

"My WHAT is broken?!" Hotwire sounded even more furious than usual, "There's nothing wrong with me! If anybody has a problem with self-preservation, I'd say it was you! Destroying the AllSpark to protect a weak, alien species?! Now THAT is broken!"

"You haven't walked my path, Hotwire, and you seem to lack the ability to comprehend the decisions of anyone other than yourself,” Prime retorted bitterly, shaking his head.

"Is there any need to?" Hotwire asked him, pushing up her visor and looking up at Optimus Prime with blue optics. She looked a little confused, as if she knew the answer he would give, but couldn't believe that it was true.

The look that the leader of the Autobots gave in return looked much like hers, at first. Then the confusion gave way to sadness, "What turned you into this?" he asked no one in particular.

The question caught Hotwire off-guard. She didn't want to talk about what had happened to make her this way. People were there to be used and they used her back, and that was just the way things went. Even her creators had used her to fulfil their own failed dreams of glory, "Isn't this the way it's supposed to be?" she asked him.

It wasn't that people couldn't be manipulative, uncaring jerks. Prime had seen plenty of those. But they could normally conceive that other people thought differently, even if they didn’t really care, "No, it's not,” he explained to her, "It's like your creators forgot to program empathy into you."

Hotwire just shrugged mechanically, "Not that it's any of your business," she said calmly, "But I don't think empathy was high on their list of things for me to achieve."

"Then what did they want for you?" Prime asked. He had to know why anyone would create any being to be so... cold. Disconnected.

Hotwire hesitated, before answering truthfully, "They wanted me to be the best ever. My first-figure was a warrior who lived out his dreams of pacifism by forcing me to install medical programs when it was time for me to choose my function. My second-figure was a medic who wanted me to be the best, so he sent me to the best teacher. They both put up the pit of a fuss when I was expelled, but I didn't need them any more by then."

"So they wanted you to become a very talented medic,” Prime repeated. He understood that part. Parents often tried to make their child into what they wanted, and failed, to be. It was the next part he didn't understand, "But what's the point of a medic who doesn't care about her patients?"

Hotwire just shrugged again, "I don't need to know how to care about my patients," she replied curtly, "I only need to know how to treat them. If I cared, I might not be able to perform Advanced Triage. Even more people would die."

"So it's all numbers to you,” Prime spoke, "Successes and failures. How many people you can keep alive. You don't actually care if they do, though."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Hotwire asked him, looking angry, "I have treated Autobots on the battlefield as well as Decepticons. I suppose you'd be happier if they were dead, just so long as I cared. You Autobots certainly have unusual priorities," she added spitefully.

"That isn't what I meant at all,” Optimus replied quickly, "It's just that a medic who cares about their patients will fight harder to save them. With someone who doesn't, it's just another job to them."

Hotwire frowned, clearly confused again, "Well, obviously," she said, "Isn't everything?"

Optimus Prime gave an exasperated sigh, rubbing his head, "No, that's not everything. But I don't think I'll be able to convince you otherwise."

Hotwire scowled, and turned her back on Prime again, "There's nothing wrong with me," she said, sounding angry again, "Why are you so intent on convincing me that I have a problem?"

"You do have a problem, which is why you can't see it,” Prime tried to explain, but he knew even as he said it that she wasn't buying it.

"Yes, you'd love that wouldn't you," she sneered, and pulled her visor back down, "But wait... you consistently deny the fact that you're a jerk, so doesn't that mean you have a problem too?"

Prime just glared at her and slowly shook his head, "I've had enough of this,” he said finally, "You're confined to a cell until we can learn the location of the Oblivion virus and destroy it."

"No," Hotwire snapped, "I'm leaving with Barricade and Frenzy, right now. And if you intend to stop me, you'll have to kill me. And I don't think you have the programming."

Optimus Prime didn't look particularly worried, confident in his abilities to subdue the much smaller Cybertronian and take her alive, "If we must fight, then so be it,” he told her clinching his fists.

Hotwire stepped neatly around Prime, an expression of distaste on her features. As he turned to face her, the much smaller and faster Cybertronian fired her cannon at his head without the slightest hesitation.

Optimus barely managed to get his head out of the way so he could retain a face, but he could feel metal plating on the top of his head sizzle, the duck not quite low or fast enough to avoid all damage. Growling in pain, Prime stepped towards her in the relatively confined space and swung at her, trying to slam her to the floor.

Simply because the space was confined, the smaller 'bot had a slight advantage on Optimus, and it was one she was going to need if she was going to take on somebody three or four times her size. Her collection of surgical tools slid out, and she fired at Prime again, this time aiming at the floor. She moved to one side even as she fired, dodging his swipe.

The blast struck Prime's legs, stunning the Autobot for a brief moment, but it was more of an annoyance than an actual injury. The Autobot leader kept advancing, trying to back Hotwire into a corner.

It didn't take long for Hotwire to work out Prime's plan, and with an impressive display of agility, she skidded between his legs, and fired up at him from her spot on the floor. The light energy cannon probably wouldn't be able to take him down, but her anger had exploded into an uncontrollable rage, and she didn't even care anymore.

Prime cried out again in pain and frustration, but unfortunately for Hotwire, she had placed herself in a particularly troubling position, as Prime demonstrated a moment later by taking a step back and kicking her down the hallway.

She skidded down the hallway, slammed into the wall... and started to get up again. The blow must have hurt her; it wasn't as if motorcycles, even police modifications, were designed to be heavily armoured. But she was getting up all the same, a low growl in her voice-box. Her tools were digging into the wall, making the genuinely dreadful sound of metal against metal.

Optimus watched her curiously, wondering what it was that was driving her to fight like this, "You can't win, Hotwire,” he told her, "Why are you doing this?"

"Are you saying... I should just... give up?" Hotwire managed before straightening up, "The great and mighty Optimus Prime wants somebody to give up, to make it easier for him..."

"You're the one who prides herself on her logical way of dealing with things. What will fighting me achieve?" he asked her honestly.

Hotwire's engine growled and she pointed an accusing finger at Prime, "How dare you try and blackmail me with logic!" she snarled at him, her voice rising to a shriek, "What do you think imprisoning me will achieve?!"

Prime realised he'd found his best angle of attack, not through physical force, but through brutally honest analysis, "It will prevent you from giving away the Oblivion Virus to a party who will use it for destructive ends," raising a metal eye-ridge, he added, "It's an effective way of saving lives. That's your purpose, isn't it?"

"It belongs to ME!" Hotwire shrieked again, “You'll never find it!"

"What use is it to you?" Prime replied, remaining as calm as he could, "All you could ever use it for is an elaborate suicide."

Hotwire sneered, "Even if I was to tell you where it is," she smirked, "You don't have the guts to take it," she gave it some seconds of contemplation, "Yes... yes, it would be a fun way to die..." she frowned, "Although... Barricade probably wouldn't understand..."

"What are you talking about?" Optimus asked, suddenly feeling worried. Something about the way Hotwire said that didn't sound good.

Hotwire's face broke into a crazed grin, "The hilarious thing about all of this is that I am the only person alive who knows the location and activation codes of the Oblivion Virus," she giggled, and it didn't sound entirely sane, "So if you just kill me right now, it will be lost forever. Isn't that what you want?" She giggled again.

Optimus Prime took a cautious step backwards, "No. I want the virus gone. I don't want to have to murder someone to destroy it. I don't understand why you want the virus so badly."

"The even more hilarious thing..." Hotwire covered her mouth with her hands, speaking past them, "Is where I hid it. Oh, it's so..." she sniggered, "You'll never get it, Prime. Oh, I KNEW it would be worth the trouble. You are more fun than Stunticons on High Grade..."

"I... what?" was the only thing Optimus Prime could get out. He didn't know how to react. Hotwire had seemed unusual or even unstable before, but her behaviour was crossing right into a psychotic episode.

Hotwire clutched her head, grinning madly, "Oh, there's no point telling you where I hid it... because you will never be able to take it! You'll have to get one of your lackeys to do the job, because you'll never be able to do it..." she looked up, "You said so yourself..."

"What do you mean?!" Prime shouted. This guessing game was infuriating, and there was only so much of Hotwire's madness he could take.

Hotwire covered her mouth with both hands, then finally exploded with mirth, "It's in ME!" she shrieked, and burst into manic laughter, "If you try to remove the file, you’ll probably kill me anyway!" With these words, the femme slumped to the floor, laughing insanely and clutching her chassis, but caught control just long enough to look up at Prime and smirk, "And that is something you will never be able to do."

"You hid the Oblivion virus inside you?!" Prime spoke in wide-eyed astonishment. The slightest hope he’d had that he could persuade Hotwire to his side died in that moment. All previous assessments of her were off even more than he thought, "You're insane."

“I’m not insane,” Hotwire returned, “I’m just not user-friendly,” she smirked thinly from her spot on the floor, “The files are quite safe,” she continued, “They had better be, for how much it hurt putting them in there.”

"You're not leaving this base,” Optimus Prime told her confidently, "Even if you can get past me, which I doubt, this base has more than one Autobot. ...Maybe Ratchet can find a way to remove the virus without killing you."

"And if he fails?" Hotwire asked, her expression surprisingly calm for the subject. The femme stood up, dusting herself off, "It's mine. It hasn't killed me yet. And besides," she smirked, "You need the activation code too."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I have no intention of using the virus?" Prime asked irritably.

"As many times as I need to tell you it belongs to me," Hotwire replied, suddenly looking equally angry.

"It doesn't belong to you!" Prime roared, losing his patience, "It doesn't belong to anyone, and if I can work it that way, no one will be able to use it! Now, report back to the cell block or get dragged there."

"Make me!" Hotwire screamed at him, her tools and gun sliding out, "What's the matter, Prime?! Don't have the GUTS?! You wanted to know where the virus is, so you could destroy it! What's holding you back?!"

"Just shut up,” Prime growled, rushing forward. He was done dancing around Hotwire with words. As he had feared, they had no effect. That left only one course left to him.

As Prime advanced, Hotwire backed up again, a selection of sharp instruments flexing. As soon as he was close enough, she spun on ten inches of heel and slammed her foot into his windows with all the force she could muster, cracking the glass.

Prime had mass on his side, the blow not pushing him back as much as the medic may have hoped. The larger robot reached out to grab Hotwire's leg. If he could throw her off balance, this fight would be over quickly.

The femme yelled out in shock and fell over as he caught hold of her, almost upside down and kicking at him hard, "Let GO of me!" she shrieked at him, firing her light energy gun from her awkward position on the floor.

Optimus twisted and tried to dodge, avoiding serious damage as the shot splattered against the ceiling above him. Taking hold of Hotwire, he flipped her onto her front, reaching down to pin her arms to her side and pick her off the ground.

It didn't stop her from struggling, scratching and kicking at Optimus like an animal. Even facing away from him, and six feet off ground level, Hotwire was still trying to get out of his grip, finally twisting into a position where it was possible for her to savagely ram her spiked heel into his lower torso.

Optimus grunted and struggled with the smaller robot. After the kick to the groin, he tried slamming Hotwire against the wall once, hoping that it would stun her. She slumped briefly, but after a few seconds regained her senses, "Let... GO of me!" she snarled at him, still kicking, "You won't get the virus! And you won't get the antidote! Why should you?!"

Optimus didn't answer. He was done trying to explain himself. Now all that was left was to try and contain the situation, find some way of diffusing the virus without resorting to murder. It seemed that nothing could ever be simple. The cell block wasn't far away, and soon Prime was entering it with Hotwire in tow, "Ironhide, open up a cell,” he ordered the cameras.

A cell door opened, but even as it did so Hotwire's cable plait twisted like a live thing and wrapped around Prime's neck three times. Then it started squeezing, apparently with every intention of removing his head. Prime's optics brightened in surprise, his hands scratching at the cable, trying to remove it before it did any permanent or fatal damage. Steel shrieked and tore as Hotwire's reserve weapon tightened further, and in desperation, Optimus punched her. Hard.

The blow connected with the back of Hotwire's head, and sent her into the wall face-first. She slumped down, dazed, and the plait-turned-tail loosened its grip on Prime's neck a little. He took the opportunity to unwind the plaited cable. Looking at it distastefully, he used it as a leash, and dragged Hotwire with him into the open cell, "We could have done this without the pain,” he spoke.

Hotwire shook her head, recovering, "Maybe," she said unpleasantly, trying to take her plait back, "But you wouldn't have had half as much fun."

"This isn't a game,” he responded, releasing and tossing back the steel plait, "Think about what I've said. I hope you can be more reasonable than this."

"I am being reasonable," Hotwire replied, "You're still alive, aren't you?"

Optimus reached up and rubbed the thin line that had been sliced into the metal around his neck. It would heal up in time, "Not by your choice,” he rumbled, stepping out of the cell.

Hotwire turned her back on Prime, and suddenly, savagely, punched the wall of the cell, denting it. She settled into a corner silently and began to rock herself back and forth.

Optimus watched her briefly for a moment, and he felt somewhat sorry for her. He knew that he was making the right choice, that he couldn't allow an unstable individual like Hotwire, whatever her allegiance, to possess a doomsday weapon, but he still felt guilty about it. Prime closed the cell door, locking her inside.

Hotwire continued to fidget silently, re-plaiting her cables and staring at the opposite wall. What was on her mind was a complete mystery.

Optimus looked inside a few moments more before turning away and leaving Hotwire to her solitude. He had things to discuss and decide. He just hoped that Ratchet could supply the solution he wanted.

~~~

Harley: Next chapter is the last chapter. Don’t you worry about that virus either, I’ve got it all planned out.
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Shadows of Tomorrow