The Voice Won't Go Away - A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Couldn't wait, now I'm spotted.

Energon. It was rather bland in taste, but could be modified and changed to have different tastes and textures. It could be used to create weapons, and power blasters. To charge up tech and to feed cybertronians. Ah yes, to feed a cybertronian. Energon could also be modified to suit different aged cybertronians. Low grade for sparklings, medium grade for younger, but still mature cybertronians, and high grade for those old enough to get a bit tipsy and wild.

But who knew used energon, energon taken from a cybertronian directly, drained from their frames and consumed, would be this good?

Optimus gasped, reeling back in shock as he recovered from whatever just overtook him. His helm was pounding, spark racing within his chassis, vision blurred from panic. He sat back, letting his frame catch up to him as he tried to calm down, letting himself slowly regain his senses. The first thing he noticed, was that there was something warm all over him, on his servos and chassis, dripping from his mouth aswell. It was hard to make out in the moment, but as his vision recovered, he also noticed a purple, limp form a few meters away from him. As he slowly remembered what had happened, he started to put two and two together.

Was he... covered in a Vehicons ENERGON?!

Optimus shook his helm, finally managing to make out the purple frame. Indeed, it was the Vehicon, or what was left of him. The frame was coated in its own energon aswell, parts of him were missing or thrown aside, discarded in his thirst. A gaping hole replaced where the Vehicons chassis, and spark, should have been, where a majority of the energon was pooling from, and the mechs helm was flattened, crushed and almost torn off completely.
Optimus wasn't any better, with himself being covered in what energon had been lost in the attack. It had splattered on him in a messy, gruesome fashion, and his mouth still had the taste of it. It was a distinct taste, one he could not describe, but a small part of him thought it tasted good- no. It tasted fantastic! Like nothing he'd ever tried before. But his rational side wanted to scream, what had he just done? It was all a blur, he couldn't remember what he'd done, and he was somewhat glad he didn't have to. He was just dumbfounded in shock and horror at his own actions when-

"Keep searching! I know that Vehicon is around here somewhere!" Optimus jolted as the sound of Starscream's voice was heard close by, too close for comfort, the pedsteps of other Vehicons scurrying around to find the Vehicon he'd just slaughtered. Optimus brought himself to stand, looking at his drenched servos for just another passing moment, before taking off, sprinting away from the scene, his own pedsteps feeling heavy as he hasn't fully recovered from the shock yet. He doubted he ever would recover.
Unbeknownst to him, a few Vehicons had spotted him fleeing, and one of their visors happened to be recording it all. It was just a blur, barely catching sight of the Prime, but it was enough for them to return to Starscream, the other Vehicon already found, to inform him of what was seen. It was only a matter of time.

Optimus didn't return to base for several hours, running for a majority of that time until he found a place to rest, suitable to recover. Sitting within a forest, next to a river, washing off the rest of the energon in the shade, he wondered if he'd even done the job right. The voice had not returned, most likely following its end of the deal, to stay silent for the next month if Optimus feasted. But now, as he dipped his servo into the river, he questions if he ate the mechs spark aswell, gazing at his reflection as thoughts spun around in his processor. He felt lost, and afraid. He couldn't go back to the Autobots, not like this, what if they learned about it? What would they say? Would they believe him? Trust him? No. He couldn't let them know. He had to lie, to hide it, and pray no one saw him, that Primus would forgive him. Maybe if he did, he'd be forgiven again...

"Optimus? Optimus, do you read me? It's Ratchet, where are you?" Optimus flinched, the sound of his old friend and medic calling him through his comms. After a moment, he responded, finally speaking for the first time in... hours. "I read you, old friend." He gently responded, trying to hide the shaking in his tone. "Oh thank Primus, I was worried! We couldn't find your signal anywhere, we thought we had lost you again!" Ratchet exclaimed, a hint of anger in his voice. "I apologize, Ratchet, I needed some time to.. clear my helm, is all." Optimus lied, earning a huff from Ratchet. "Well, next time at least leave a note, or just wake me up, or wait until we are all awake! I'm sending a groundbridge, you best be unharmed." He warned, before the comms were switched off. Optimus took another glance at his reflection for the passing moment, gazing into his own optics as the sound of the groundbridge opening up echoed behind him. Slowly standing up, and making sure he had gotten rid of all the excess energon that drenched his frame, he turned to the bridge, hesitating for just a moment as he gazed into it. He could leave, run, and never return, so to not risk the lives of his own team. But they needed him, he was their leader, their commander. He couldn't leave them like this, even if his sanity was dwindling. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the bridge, praying the worst thing he'd get was a stern talking to and maybe being forced to stay in the base for a week or so, grounded from leaving due to his actions and worrying the team so much.

He just hoped they wouldn't learn.

(1015 words. :> Sorry this took so long, I wrote this at school due to a slow morning, but it's here!)