Part 4

'Why Hydrus Four?' Prowl wondered for the hundredth time. Why had Grimlock gone there? It could only be to do with Nucleon, but that still didn't answer why. Not for more, that's for certain. For a start, Nucleon was a self regenerating energy form, no top ups necessary. And even if that was why Grimlock had gone back, it beggared the imagination to believe that even Grimlock was stupid enough to risk a second infusion when he had only too keenly experienced the awful side effects from his first dose. If one shot lost you something as vital as the ability to transform, what would two shots do? Prowl decided he never wanted to find out. So if not more, then -
"- Less!" Even as he gave it voice, Prowl was suddenly sitting bolt upright, gazing unseeing at his spartan quarters on Cybertron. Of course, he was after some way to purge his system, clear the Nucleon out, get his transformation abilities back.
But at what cost? He must have known the Decepticons were out there somewhere, just waiting to pounce on the Nucleon. There was no way Grimlock, of all people, could have believed Bludgeon's assertion that they'd just... disappear. Hadn't he ground Prowl's nose in his own mistake often enough, hadn't he told him a thousand times never to trust a Decepticon? Somehow this knowledge made Grimlock's actions that much worse. Ignorance was an excuse of sorts, but pursuing such a blatantly selfish course of action when he knew the Decepticons were almost certain to follow him to Hydrus Four was inexcusable! If he could interface with Grimlock's ship computer, find out where he was headed, so could the Decepticons. They could follow at their leisure or even - Prowl was up and moving - fast. He had to get out there himself, see what was happening. If Prime couldn't be bothered he could go hang! Prowl was sure he could get a few like-minded Autobots to go with him.

He exited his quarters so fast he almost ran straight into Optimus Prime.
"I was just..." stammered Prowl. The appearance of his leader so soon after thinking such insubordinate, if not traitorous thoughts was alittle on the disturbing side.
But Prime was talking, not listening. "Prowl, I... I owe you an apology. Please... listen, and even if you cannot forgive, at least try to understand."
Prowl gaped. Not only was he getting an apology, he was also getting an explanation.
"I so wanted to believe that it was finally over, that we had found a lasting peace, that I shut my eyes to the evident truth of the situation. I did this not for myself, you understand, I did it for you and your fellow Autobots. Some of you have known nothing but war since the day you were created, the reaper your constant and only companion. To have it finished, to see weapons buried and smiles on faces... I wanted it so badly. I... the humans have a better expression for it than anything in our language... 'buried my head in the sand.' And so, when you came to me, saying that Grimlock's actions could set it all in motion once more, I simply did not want to hear, could not bear to see my dream so cruelly shattered. But you made me see it was a terrible truth to blind myself to. If it happened again because I failed to act, if more lives were lost, I could not live with myself. Prowl... I have been a fool. I am sorry."
If asked at that moment, Prowl could have probably come up with about six thousand places he'd rather have been than right there - standing in front of a shamefaced Optimus Prime, trying to think of something to say which wouldn't belittle the incredible courage and fortitude it must have taken for Prime to make that speech, to bare his troubled and not often shared soul in such a fashion.
"There's no time to waste," said Prowl, opting for a practical, if somewhat cowardly, way out. He started past Prime, only to find a restraining hand on his shoulder. He turned.
"There's a ship fuelled and ready to lift off, the assault team and medical crew are aboard. Prowl, I would be... honoured if you would join us," said Prime. And with that he extended a hand for Prowl to shake. There was a frozen moment or two before Prowl grabbed the proffered hand, pumping it. So charged with emotion was the moment, Prowl actually imagined a lump in a throat that he didn't possess!