Prodigal Son

Chapter 24

(Quick Author's note: I am so Sorry that each chapter is taking a little longer to get out! Things have been... A bit rocky, but I promise, I'm going to finish this thing!!)

Charlie's head was swimming.
His body ached, weighed down by a sluggish exhaustion.
He slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the sudden flood of brightness.
"Ah, you're waking up."
He couldn't stop the yawn from escaping him, and tried blinking the exhaustion from his eyes as he tried sitting up.
He was in his bedroom once again, he had a guess how he'd gotten here.
Doc was seated on the chair at his desk, patiently waiting.
"Doc... How long..."
"About a full day. But I don't know if that was the sedative, or just your body being desprate to catch up on the sleep you've been denying yourself."
Oh, right.
"Yeah, about that stunt of yours-"
Doc hold up a hand, his face hard.
"Charlie. Listen to me. I need you to know... I'm not sorry. I'm not. I know using a sedative on you was a dirty trick, but... Old friend... You're destroying yourself. I'm not about to let your guilt drive you to an early grave."
Charlie listened, then sighed, but much to Doc's confusion, the slightest hint of a smile tugged at him.
"Actually... I was going to thank you. Truth be told... That was a wake-up call. I've... Been... Not handling this great."
"Oh, THAT'S an understatement!"
The door creaked open, and in walked Agent Fowler, Professor Baranova, and Woodrow.
Charlie sighed, pulling himself to a seating position on the edge of the bed.
"Since all of you are in here, let me guess?"
Woodrow nodded.
"Intervention, Round Two."
-
"So fix it."
Heatwave's words rang in Kade's head.
Fix it.
He sighed, his eyes glued to his hands. Or rather, the jacket held in them.
He almost ignored the footsteps coming down the hall, but the voice caught his attention.
"Hey, I'd be careful. Energon can be dangerous to humans, and that's pretty soaked."
Kade looked up, seeing Agent Rafael coming towards him.
"I know... But... I just... Need to think."
The reddish brown color of the fabric was deeply stained with dark blotches, dotted with small blue crystals of congealed, hardened Energon.
As Rafael came closer, Kade chuckled softly, holding it out for the other man to see.
"Heh... I remember, when Heatwave and I gave this to him. He'd finally gotten too big for his old Bomber jacket. Man... He loved that thing. He was pretty sad about it. So... It was Heatwave's idea. He helped me pick one out, and we ordered it online."
He looked up, matching Rafael's eyes, his face growing soft.
"I guess... I guess that was when we both realized."
"Realized what?"
"... He was growing up. My kid brother was growing up."
The crusted energon was hard, rough to the touch.
It was haunting, knowing he was touching Heatwave's blood.
Heatwave had almost died, with a token of Cody around his neck.
Rafael frowned.
The heat and sweat from Kade's hands had warmed parts of the jacket, a sticky blue residue clinging to Kade's fingertips.
"You should wash that off before it absorbs into your skin, better safe than sorry. Take it from me, Energon poisoning isn't fun."
"I know... I know. Do... Do you think the jacket's salvageable?"
"I don't think so. Looks like that soaked pretty deeply into the fabric. I don't think it would fully come out."
Whelp, that confirmed that. This jacket was dead.
"Hey.... That story you told me, about getting hurt? What was the hardest part of it?"
Rafael sighed, his eyes drifting to the congealed blue.
"Honestly, almost dying, that wasn't what I was worried about. The aftermath was. There was this moment where Jack's mom dragged me out, saying that I had no place getting involved with Cybertronians because of the danger. That, that had to be the hardest part. That feeling of helplessness, knowing it might never see my friends again and not being able to do anything about it."
"... What happened next?"
Rafael was quiet, then sighed, a new smile framing him.
"I came back. Bee came back for us, brought us back to the base. If he hadn't... Bad things would've happened."
Kade slowly looked up from the jacket shifting his grip so he was holding the few sections not saturated with the gluey blood.
"... I almost don't want to let go, you know? And... I guess that's the point."
-
Cody couldn't let go.
He turned over the toy Heatwave in his hands, feeling the sticky residue of melted ice cream.
He knew he'd been avoiding it.
He's tried shoving it to the back of his mind, tried purging it from his mind.
But the sounds rang in his ears, the tearing metal, Kade's scream.
It was a shrill ring, a loud shriek. Like the cry of Chase's siren, mixed with smoke detectors and nails in a blender.
It hurt.
He felt like his ears were about to bleed, even though he knew the sound was only in his mind.
It was drowning.
It seemed to swallow him.
The world seemed to tune out, lost in the horrifying sound of guilt.
And he couldn't let go.
"Cody?"
He looked up as Frankie entered the room, nervously looking behind her as she clutched a plastic bag.
"No way... You actually found it?"
She took a seat next to him, nodding.
"Yeah, had to fish it out of the trash."
"I am so, so sorry for asking you to do this."
She only shrugged, waving it off.
"Eh, no big deal. Trust me, it was far from the hardest thing I've had to do lately."
She handed over the bag, and as it dropped into his lap, Cody could only stare.
"... Aren't you weirded out? I guess this is the last thing you'd expect me to ask."
She only leaned over, patting his shoulder.
"Hey... Look... I'm not going to say I understand, but it's okay. You're figuring things out. You need time to work through this."
Cody was quiet, then slowly reached up, lightly grabbing Frankie's hand.
"... Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything."
"Anytime, Cody."
He looked over at the bag, and with a deep sigh, reached inside.
He felt his breath tighten in his chest as he pulled out the black hoodie.
He felt Frankie squeeze his shoulder as his breath grew heavier, and his eyes latched onto the red patches on the shoulders, emblazoned with Morocco's emblem.
He hated it.
The red symbols seemed to burn into his mind, searing into his vision.
Red.
A color he saw so much.
Red.
Red like Heatwave.
It felt so cruel, that Morcco has claimed red, had branded him with red.
Red was Heatwave's color. It was comforting, warm.
But now it was tainted.
The hoodie was ripped all over, long strands of thread hanging out in jagged patterns.
The fabric was stiff with dried stains.
Heatwave's Energon, from when he'd spoken to Cody before getting carried off.
But there was also Blood, his blood.
He couldn't make out the red color of the blood, it'd absorbed into the dark fabric. But he could tell what it was.
It was strongest around the hood, from where he'd ripped out the Implant.
Thinking about the implant made him shiver, and he instinctively rubbed his neck.
"... Hard to think about, huh?"
"... Yeah..."
Frankie stared at the red logos, a sick feeling settling in her gut.
"... He was a monster. But Cody. Listen. What you did, you didn't have a choice."
"... I just can't stop thinking about him. I can't stop thinking about what I did. I don't want to be like him, Frankie."
"And you're not!!"
Frankie pulled the hoodie away, and another hand went to the necklace around her neck.
"You will NEVER be like Morocco, okay? NEVER. You're just... Hurting."
Cody sighed, his eyes still fixated on the red emblems.
"... But... I snapped at dad. I've... Never done that before... I don't like this. I just feel so angry... It's like my brain is still wired to hate everybody. But I don't... I don't..."
Frankie was quiet, then draped the hoodie over the side of the bed.
"... Cody... You're... Allowed to be mad at people. You know that, right?"
"... Not when it hurts people. Not when I lash out at my family when they're just trying to help."
"But you are allowed to be mad. You're allowed to be in pain. Being mad, having these feelings, it doesn't make you a clone of Him. It makes you human. The one thing Morocco could never be."
-
"Really committed to this Intervention bit, aren't you?"
Charlie tried shaking off any lingering exhaustion, trying to ignore the sluggish, weighted feeling in his system.
"Jokes, real funny. But I'm afraid it won't distract us from the fact that my husband was forced to sedate you, despite previous warnings."
Professor Baranova adjusted her glasses, shooting him a pointed look.
Woodrow nodded, practically shouting,
"I was really proud of that Intervention!!! I thought we got somewhere!! Now I need to revise my notes for Chase's intervention!!"
Agent Fowler coughed, clearing his throat with a slight side eye at Woodrow.
"The Professor's right. I thought Doc and Woodrow here got through to you!"
"I know... I know..."
He sighed, rubbing a hand through his silver locks.
"I... I just... Can you blame me? Really? I know this isn't healthy. And I swear, I'm trying to fix this. But... I'm scared. I'm worried about my boy."
Now was Doc's turn to sigh.
"Charlie. We understand. We understand that yes, this is every parent's worst nightmare. But it's no excuse to drive yourself into the ground! You can't help him if you give yourself a heart attack!!"
"But-"
Woodrow shook his head, trying to mirror Fowler's intimidating demeanor, sitting straighter and folding his arms.
"No buts!! Brother, you gotta sleep, try to relax!!"
"I-"
Doc spike up again, his face stone.
"No protest. This is all in your best interest, old friend."
"BUT I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN ACTUALLY HELP HIM!"
Everyone went dead silent.
Charlie gasped, his breath heavy.
He almost didn't realize what he'd yelled, but the reaction was instant.
He slumped over, his head in his hands.
"... I don't know if I can help him... I just... Don't know what to do. I don't know what to do."
He looked back up, his eyes heavy.
"... I've never seen him so... So broken before... I've never seen him so angry, I've never seen him lash out like this before. And I just... Don't know what to do. I don't know how to help him."
The silence seemed to ring, before Doc sighed, leaning over to rub his back.
"Listen. I can understand the grief. I can understand being scared. But the way you're handling that fear right now? Unacceptable. Both to yourself, and the way that it's impacting everyone else."
"But.... How am I supposed to handle this fear?!?! How am I supposed to handle knowing that my son might never be the same?!?!"
Fowler's eyes narrowed, then softened, as he reached into his jacket pocket.
"Charlie. listen. Doc's right. But I will say this. If you don't know how to help your boy, then consider other options. You talked with McSwain about calling in a specialist, right?"
"... Yes, but... It's hard. I don't know if Local resources could handle something like this, and non-Local resources don't and can't know about Cybertronians, much less AI Madmen."
Fowler held out a card, brandishing a government looking logo, and a number alongside a name.
"I know somebody that could help. She owes me a favor, I could have her out here by tomorrow. She's in the loop, so to say. The Cybertronian aspects of Cody's care wouldn't be an issue, she handles trauma counseling for my branch."
Charlie stared out at the card, then slowly reached over, gently taking it.
".... I'll try it. I need to do something. Anything."
Fowler nodded, and pulled out his phone, before standing up and heading for the door.
"I'll give her a call, and work on getting her here."
With that, Woodrow coughed, and held up a bag.
"Uh, I don't know if this is the right time, but, Dani and Graham found something."
Charlie hadn't noticed the bag before, but Doc and Baranova clearly knew what it was.
Woodrow tossed the bag over, and Charlie opened it up, feeling his breath tense again.
"... Been a while... Since I've seen this..."
He reached inside, feeling an old pang of bittersweet memories as he pulled out an old, beaten bomber jacket.
It was hard, taking it all in.
His hand brushed over the beaten leather, his other still holding the card.
A drastic shift.
Two completely different phases of life.
He looked up again, at Doc, Baranova, and Woodrow, as his face softened.
"... The first step is always the hardest, huh?"
Doc smiled bitterly, patting his back again.
"Indeed, Charlie, indeed. But seeking help, for both you and Cody, is the most important step of all."
He nodded, the sluggish feeling returning as he slumped over again.
"It's the first step that matters... And it's a matter of who takes it."
-
Cody tried to ignore the bag on the dresser.
"Here, I've got a good one."
Frankie held out her tablet for him to see, smiling awkwardly as she pulled out a cat video.
It probably wasn't the best thing he could be doing, but he wanted the distraction.
He needed to avoid thinking about the jacket just out of reach.
To avoid thinking about the bleeding, tainted red logos that he just couldn't seem to let go of.
He forced his eyes into the screen, onto the goofy video of the cat falling off a table.
But, a knock at the door grabbed both of their attention.
".... Hey, squirt..."
Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, was Kade.
He looked awkward, his face flushed and red, but a faint smile framed his lips.
"... Mind if we talk?"