What It Costs - TFP

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'Did one of the children teach you that custom?' he wanted to ask jokingly, teasingly.

Agent Fowler had done it enough times for Optimus to understand what it meant.

But all he could do was stare after his medic as the older mech stalked over to the groundbridge controls. All kinds of alarms were going off in Optimus's head, and yet all he could do was...watch.

Perhaps he could take no more of Ratchet's harsh attitude—the anger that emanated off his old friend.

Perhaps he really wasn't making the right decision, but Ratchet was.

Or perhaps...

You're a coward, Optimus. A big, strong, coward.

"I'll find the relic myself," Ratchet announced to the other bots. Up until then, they had, unmoving and tense, watched the argument which had preceded all this.

Don't go, my Starlight...or at least...let me go with you...But the Prime stood immobile, watching the old bot speak.

"I'll find it myself and win us the war," he repeated, still trembling with rage from minutes before. He turned that sharply angered expression—now laced with disdain—at the Autobot leader. "And I don't need any backup."

A swirling portal of green, white, and purple roared to life when the medic shoved the lever downwards, his expression only grim now. Without saying anymore, he then turned and transformed. An ambulance raced through the portal and disappeared seconds later.

While the Prime lingered absentmindedly near the bridge, eyes focusing on no one thing as he stared around, deep in thought, Bumblebee carefully padded over and pulled the lever up. The swishing, humming noise quickly faded as the groundbridge portal did, and silence rested over them once again.

Except that silence was still not peaceful.

Optimus soon found himself speaking, not really thinking as he did.

"Woah—you sure, Optimus?" Bulkhead asked, eyes widened a bit nervously. "I mean, no offense but...Ratchet might rip you to shreds..."

'He looked pretty mad,' Bumblebee agreed quietly.

"If something were to happen to him, it would be my fault," Optimus found himself saying. "For that reason, please reopen the groundbridge."

You scared of the blame, Optimus?

You don't want to be incriminated?

Are you making this about you?

Do you really care?

Optimus didn't want to shake those questions away just yet. He was unsure of their answers. The Prime wished his mind was where his body was, yet as he transformed and drove through the bridge, his thoughts continued to wander.

They taunted him, echoing his medic's scornful words.

Why don't you go after the relic, the one thing that could save us? Who cares if Megatron is there with all his troops? What makes that different from any other of your confrontation with him?

A heavy feeling sat in the bottom of his stomach—a foreboding sense.

Often—they say—if your loved one is in danger, you can feel it.