"Will it hurt?" She had looked at Rumble with such fear and hope in her eyes. She had trusted him. She was trusting him still. He had the feeling she was still clinging to the vain idea that maybe he wouldn't go through with it after all. She should have known him better than that by now.

"Nah. It'll be quick. I promise. You'll just… you won't even know it happened," he was lying. It would hurt like the Pit, but only for a few seconds while her sensory information systems shut down. If he aimed right, the relays carrying pain signals would never reach her brain. Because it wouldn't be there to reach. Her body would spasm and jerk for a few minutes while all her internal functions shutdown, succumbing to the eventuality. It happened the same way everytime. He shrugged. He really didn't want to do this, but if he'd left it to anyone else… well… the other Cons would have dragged it out. Made her hurt for a long time before they finally ended her. At least this way, she wouldn't suffer.

But he would.

"I can't believe—I mean I still can't believe that Master Megatron would think I'm so much of a threat, just because I talked to your brother." She was shaking her head again, staring at the floor. Staring at the drain in the middle of the room.

He had taken her to the aptly dubbed "slaughter house." A large, square room with gradually sloping floors that lead to a drain intended to catch all the biological fluids spilled when the human insects were terminated. And the occasional Decepticon miscreant. The walls and ceiling were lined with the same easily cleaned tiles as the floor, making cleaning a breeze. A hose was mounted to one wall that could stretch the length of the room and all a mech had to do was spray off the affected areas. Killing made simple. If there was one thing Decepticons were good at, it was killing.

"Can you…" she shifted, peering at him and working up the courage for whatever it was she wanted to ask. He waited. She bit her lip and then forged ahead, "Can you do me a favor, then?"

Wasn't he already? He narrowed his optics at her for a moment. He was, after all, making sure she didn't suffer before she died, wasn't that favor enough? But then, the whole thing had been his idea after all, so in a way, he was the reason she was here in the first place. The things he did for his twin! He cycled air through his vents in a huff, "Maybe."

"If, I mean, when, I'm gone, there won't be anybody to watch out for Mikey. He doesn't have any friends. You know, because of how he is."

"You want me to take care of your brother?" Because watching out for Frenzy wasn't enough? What was she thinking?! Now she wants him to add her fleshbag brother to his long list of problems? Maybe it was better that she was being put down, she obviously thought there was more between them than there really was. Like there had been some sort of shared responsibility or something.

Well, in truth… there kinda had been. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for his bright idea, after all. She had been so good for his twin, though. It really helped—took some of the pressure off him the way her presence had soothed Frenzy's mania. Even now, he could feel his brother calling out for her.

"I don't have anyone else to ask," she said simply, a look of defeat pulling her face into such a sad little frown. It actually tugged at his spark. In her place, he would have begged for someone to look out for Frenzy. Oh, sure, there was Soundwave, and the other tapes, but Frenzy was his twin. Which made the other tape his responsibility. Rumble was always the one to calm him during the worst of the fits. Rumble was the one who served as the lifeline that kept his brother online. Rumble was Frenzy's one, tenous link to the sanity denied him directly. Rumble was the one who had brought the girl to see him.

He huffed through his vents once more, reluctantly resigned, "Alright. I'll do what I can." It was the least he owed her. But it wasn't a real commitment—that just wasn't his style. Reaching behind his shoulder, he pulled his plasma cannon from its mount on his back and charged it up. It was hard to look at her now. "Anything else?" He kept his gaze on the weapon instead.

"Tell Mikey I love him, and I'm sorry that I had to go away." Rumble nodded, of course she'd want some platitudes given to her twin. "And tell Frenzy goodbye for me."

He looked up at that one, surprised etched in his widened optics and slack jaw. Frenzy was having one of his more lucid moments and was listening in across their spark bond. He could feel the puzzlement coming from his brother. Why was she saying good bye, being the unspoken question. Where was she going?

Primus, this sucked.

"Yeah," his vocalizer was a touch staticky. "Okay."

"Well, I guess I'm ready, then." She swallowed hard. "When you are."

Rumble busied himself looking over his weapon for a moment. He really didn't want to do this. But if it wasn't him, she would suffer, he reminded himself. He raised the cannon, taking careful aim.

"Huh. This is the first time ever that I don't want to pull the trigger," was the last thing she heard.

"Hey, Mikey." Rumble walked up to the brown haired boy from the side, giving him a chance to turn and gaze at the mech speaking to him now. His sister said he was unsettled when people approached him from behind. Hook had a way with the boy, maybe the tape could get off easy after all. He really wanted to distance himself from the fleshbag, he looked too much like his sister. "Remember me?"

"Rumble," came the slow, carefully enunciated reply.

"Yeah, Rumble. That's right." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. The human insects weren't supposed to look any Con in the face, but he already knew the boy stared at the floor for an enirely different reason. He was autistic. Sarah's twin had difficulty making eye contact with anyone—human, mech, it didn't matter. In some ways his disability made him a perfect worker for the Decepticon army. And then there were those days when his routine was upset somehow and he threw what, for all intents and purposes, appeared very much like a temper tantrum. She'd said it was just how he expressed fear of the unknown. Today, his routine was about to be completely upended and turned inside out.

Sarah was dead.

Rumble had terminated her.

"Where… Where is Master Hook?" The boy's brown eyes flicked up to the purple badge on Rumble's chest armor. He seemed to be tracing the design with his eyes. The tape shifted his weight again, feeling awkward under the bizarre scrutiny.

"He's in the med bay like he always is about this time. Nothing changed there, Mikey." Rumble frowned at his clumsy attempt to reassure the boy. "Hey, listen. Um. Your sister isn't gonna get you this cycle, okay? I'm gonna take you home. Do you understand Mikey?" He cocked his head to one side, peering down at the slow storm of dismay crossing that human face.

"Why?"

"She's…" When did this get hard? It had never before been difficult to tell one fleshbag that another one had been offlined. There was a certain finesse in the telling that made their display of emotions entertaining. But not this time. "She's… not coming, Mikey. Ever."

"Did she leave?"

"Yeah. She left."

"Where did she go?"

"Far away from here."

"Can I go?"

"No, Mikey. You can't go." Not yet, anyway.

"When is she coming back?"

"She's not."

There was a long pause. The boy was studying his badge again. "Okay."

Well that went better than he had expected. Rumble stood still, watching the boy return to his circuit cards. His deft little fingers managed the micro welds as expertly as any well tuned drone. Mikey had impressed quite a few weapons experts with his ability to follow schematics and piece together the intricate electronics pieces. Hook had taken a special interest in his abilities and pulled the boy off the main work floor giving him a test bench in a quiet corner of a small office off the med bay. Rumble wondered just how much of that had been Sarah's influence. She could be quite persuasive. Had been, he corrected himself.

At the beginning of every solar cycle, the Decepticon medic set up the equipment for the boy, laying out the schematics for what he would be working on and left him alone to work. He never seemed to need anyone watching over him. He did everything at the same time, bathroom breaks, meals, and so on. Hook was pleased with the boy's adherence to such a strict schedule. It was convient for the Con. Did the mech have any true idea of the boy's condition? Surely he'd have noticed by now.

Mikey suddenly stopped all that he was working on and put his hands down to his sides. Without looking at his audience, he asked, "Is there more?"

Direct little fragger, Rumble thought to himself. Just like his sister is. Had been. "No." The tape turned and left. Walking down the corridors to the main work rooms, his thoughts wandered to Sarah once more. He had been bored the day he met her. Well, singled her out, was more the way it had happened…