Jack's heart had been racing as he narrowly saved Miko from being crushed by Wheeljack and Bulkhead's lobbing ball. Honestly he thought the Wrecker would know better since they were all readjusting to the new base. It was still hard to believe that only a few days ago, Jasper was still intact. His house, his school, and his work were all vaporized by the Darkmount fortress's fusion cannons. He wouldn't miss the latter, but the former two were of great importance to him.

Agent Fowler promised to relocate the raven haired teen and his mother as soon as he could while dealing with his usual amount of work. Part of Jack knew he was somewhat happy to no longer have to travel to and from military base in order to speak with the Autobots. Even he would admit this was a preferred alternative to being on the run with the Decepticons after them. He watched as Ultra Magnus scolded Wheeljack for his actions, hinting at not to friendly history between the two. The Wrecker made a remark, his usual disdain for command evident, and left to cool off somewhere.

Jack would be the first to admit he wasn't too fond of the Autobots' latest acquisition, but he could see the practicality. Even with the wisdom of the Primes, Optimus did not possess the presence to seem like an effective military leader by standard means. Ratchet mentioned as much being the reason why he'd chosen members of the Autobot Elite Guard to lead certain factions of the group. And Ultra Magnus brought with him a few advantages the 'Bots had been in need of for some time. So while Jack wasn't sure he'd take an immediate liking to him soon, he would give credit where it was due and be thankful for his arrival.

They all milled about whilst adjusting to the new base; they'd lost just about everything in Omega-One's destruction. Taking time to relax himself, he wondered what Optimus was up to at this time, with his newly acquired vehicle mode. Even with his upgraded body, if he ran into trouble, he knew Optimus would be the first to call for back-up. Miko began conversing with the other Autobots about how "rad" it would be to have jetpacks like their Prime. He couldn't help his own surprise at Ratchet's use of the word in serious, but exasperated, tone.

Then the roar of an engine was heard outside the compound, all eyes and optics turning its direction, as a blue and yellow sports car sped inside. It hadn't taken long for them to realize it was their newest recruit. Arcee had taken the liberty of addressing Smokescreen, prompting him to transform and reveal his new paintjob. In truth, he was taking a cue from Optimus and Bumblebee and recoloring himself. Ultra Magnus did not seem amused and showed as much by instructing him to stack the empty energon cubes.

He made some kind of remark under his breath, something which hadn't gone unnoticed by Ratchet. The medic looked up from whatever he was working on, "What was that about a Prime?"

A Prime? The onyx haired boy assumed the recruit was simply making some snide remark about Magnus' attitude. It certainly sounded as much from what he could hear and elicited a nervous reaction from Smokescreen. He seemed hesitant to answer truthfully for a moment.

"T-Time," he offered as his cover-up. "Time for me to stop acting like a rookie?" Without another word on the matter he returned to the task assigned to him. Still, Jack remained unconvinced but decided to leave it alone for later.

"Smokescreen was the only one who went back," came the somber tone of his partner. Jack pretended not to listen, but he was close enough in proximity to hear. It didn't take someone of Raf's intellect to know what she was referring to. "If hadn't been for him… Optimus might be with us today."

Jack sighed to himself; of course Arcee was feeling guilty. She admired the Prime perhaps more than anyone, even Smokescreen. So it was only natural that she feel an amount of shame for not going back to aid her leader. Neither Optimus nor Smokescreen spoke about what had occurred during the duration they were unaccounted for. Of course they were all certain that the Prime had been left in a state of grave injury, perhaps even near-death, until Smokescreen used the remaining energy left in the Forge to upgrade his body. Ratchet consoled Arcee by mentioning they were under the strictest of orders to protect their humans partners.

Jack couldn't help but flinch at the mention; it had been their fault all of this had happened in the first place. They allowed themselves to be captured and used as bargaining chips, himself being worth two of the Omega Keys. The events that followed led to all this and Jack cursed himself for not doing everything he could to prevent it all from happening. Getting up from the couch, he decided to take a walk and clear his head. Slipping away unnoticed, Jack set about exploring Fort Bragg military base.

It was as he imagined most bases would be like; structured and orderly, soldiers repeating the same drills over and over until they were etched in their minds, and all sorts of military vehicles he couldn't name or label a price on. These were the kinds of people the Autobots should be working with, not screw-up kids like him. He'd always felt a tad out of place but now, surrounded by all this, he realized he had no place among the Autobots. He was just some small town kid who'd been lucky enough to get in on the action the 'Bots went through day in and out. He was smart enough to recognize the danger of it all and tried his best not to be a burden, but somehow the opposite always proved to true.

Pulling back the sleeves of his shirt, he looked at the scars, presents from his now absent father, that ran up his arms. He could still feel the pain of the knife traveling across, dividing his skin, blood pouring through, and his mother's cries for the man to stop. He'd been too embarrassed, too secretive, to allow anyone other than the physicians his mother sent him to for physicals to see. Not even Arcee knew about them and he wasn't sure he wanted her to know. To him, these disfigurations were not a reminder of his father; but of weakness.

He'd gotten them attempting to ward off the bastard when he was striking his mother over something petty, he didn't know (or care) what. He'd bitten into the man's leg, exposed thanks to the shorts he'd been wearing. Memories of his father prompted the boiling of his blood and a desire to find the man and beat him within an inch of his life. Those thoughts scared him because they were exactly what he'd think of doing to someone he didn't like. Lost in thought he wandered into the CQC area, where the soldiers were practicing their hand-to-hand.

"Hey," a voice called. Jack looked up to find a man approaching him. He was dressed in typical training gear, camo pants, a khaki shirt, a name stitched into the fabric that read "J. Ramirez". He had black hair, shaved, and dark brown eyes. He smiled, "Your one of those kids the 'Bots brought over, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded while rubbing the back of his head, a gesture signifying his embarrassment. "Sorry for intruding, I got lost in thought and-," He considered, for a moment, asking the man to teach him CQC but he didn't want to distract the man from whatever training he was undergoing and get him in trouble.

"It's no problem," he waved it off. "I'm not up until a little later. My Sergeant just sent me to take care of some things. I swear, he makes me do everything. But it beats sitting around, doing nothing I guess. No offense."

'None taken. I was just wondering if you would teach me some moves. You know, to defend myself." Now that the question was out, Jack felt like an utter fool for asking. Of course a soldier wouldn't have time to teach some kid how to fight. He was probably much too busy with whatever his commanding officer had him doing. Before he knew it, an apology was spilling from his lips, "I'm sorry. It was a dumb question, I know you must be busy. I'll leave you alone, now."

"No," he replied. "My Sergeant can wait while I show a few moves. I'm James by the way. James Ramirez." He extended his hand, which Jack took with a smile.

"Jack Darby." Ramirez nodded to an open area, requesting the officer in charge of CQC for permission to use it. He examined Jack a brief moment, appraising the boy for any attributes of a future soldier. The raven haired teen shifted nervously under the man's gaze until he turned his attention to Ramirez and nodded.

"Make it quick."

"Yes sir." Leading Jack over to the open area, he started their lesson, showing him standard takedowns and strikes, having him repeat the maneuvers each time. He pointed out any flaws in technique and had Jack do it again until he got it right. Gone was his friendly demeanor, replaced by a strict instructor not unlike the Autobot second-in-command. Once Jack had gotten some of the down and recorded to memory, Ramirez demanded a demonstration.

Taking his stance, the engaged in combat, the soldier pulling his punches in response to Jack's novice behavior. Ramirez was well built, but that made slow at a slight fraction. Using that to his advantage, Jack used his slimmer build to escape some of his holds and strike a few blows. Ramirez nodded and praised him in standard military fashion; saying he wasn't a "completely hopeless case, after all." Jack managed a heel kick to the side of the man's head, knocking him to the ground.

Panicking, Jack made sure he was all right, only to be locked in another hold.

"Never let your guard down," James growled.

"N-Noted," Jack choked out. He could feel his vision start to go black when a voice called out.

"Ramirez!" Immediately the pressure around his neck was gone, allowing Jack to take in entire breaths of air. Approaching them was an African American man, clad in combat gear, a circle beard and dark eyes. Appraising Jack like the CQC instructor had, he addressed the soldier to his right, "Playing with civilians?"

"No, sir," he replied. "He requested that I teach him a few techniques. With the instructor's permission, I showed him how a ranger takes an opponent down when in close quarters."

"I see," he pondered the information. "How did he fair? Do we a have a future ranger on our hands?"

"I think so, sir." Jack couldn't help but flush slightly at the praise when he knew he hadn't done that well. The Sergeant looked back at the raven haired teen, eyes roaming over his form in another appraisal. Swallowing nervously, he could only remain on the ground while the examination went on. Finally, he was offered a hand.

"Sgt. Sean Foley, Hunter Squad."

"Jack Darby," he didn't know what else to say beyond that. "Mr. Ramirez-,"

"Private," he corrected.

"Right. Private Ramirez is a great instructor. You're lucky to have him." Ramirez smiled at his praise and patted Jack's shoulder as he and Sgt. Foley departed. The training had provided him with a slight outlet for his frustrations, but he still remained determined to continue his exploration and clear his mind. His stomach growled, choosing the Mess Hall as his next destination. They were apparently having chicken for lunch.

Eating his fill he walked it off and continued his way around the base. He found a nice enough spot to sit down and watch the sunset. He'd have to bring Arcee here and show her some time. Speak of the devil, he heard the gentle hum of a motorcycle engine approach from behind. He wasn't quite ready to see her yet, so he didn't turn to face her as she transformed and situated herself beside him.

"You had me worried," she said. "You could at least left a note before taking off like that." There was no anger in her voice, just her usual tone. He could feel her optics on him, watching him for any sort of reaction. She knew him well enough to know he only went on these walks when he wanted to think things over alone. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. He didn't want her to know he'd overheard her and Ratchet's conversation. He respected her privacy like she did his. He felt her servo lift his chin up so she could examine the bruise on his neck. When her optics narrowed, he explained, "I asked someone to teach me some hand-to-hand and we sparred. He wasn't trying to hurt me."

Her expression changed from angry to suspicious, "Why were you learning how to fight?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but clicked it shut when he couldn't come up with a good answer. He just stared ahead and tried to ignore the piercing cerulean of her optics as she attempted to get an answer out of him. She knew this wasn't like Jack to be so secretive. Something was wrong and she wouldn't let him shut her out.

Like you're any better.

The cobalt blue femme couldn't help but flinched at her own criticism; it was true that when something was troubling her, she would be less than forthcoming with it. That had already come back to haunt her with Airachnid. Normally, she was happy to be a role model for Jack but she didn't want him adopting all of her attributes. She tried again," Come on, Jack. You know you can tell me anything. We are partners."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you regret coming back for me?" This time he turned to face her and watched the surprise on her face. Of course she hadn't expected him to ask her something like that. In truth, he hadn't planned on asking but the question escaped him before he could stop himself.

"Where'd all this come from?" she looked at him in concern. Jack turned away from her again, cursing himself for putting her in such a position. She didn't need to deal with his insecurities right now. Well, he thought, he's already let it get this far.

"I heard you and Ratchet. How you regret not going back for Optimus because you had to protect me. I was just thinking you wouldn't have had to do that if you hadn't asked me back. If I hadn't come back." He closed his eyes in preparation for the verbal gloss-lashing she was sure to throw at him.

Instead, she reached out and wrapped her arm around him, pulling him close. "You head, huh? I'm sorry if it sounded like I regret having you as a partner, I don't. If you had stayed in Jasper, I'd be driving myself nuts trying to find you after the 'Cons destroyed it. It just leaves a bitter feeling, knowing that after all we'd been through, I hadn't even tried to go back for Optimus. Without him, we'd never be able to function as efficiently as we do now."

"Smokescreen had the phase-shifted, Arcee. Even if you had gone back, you would have just ended up as injured as Optimus did. Besides, if you thought for one second that I'd let you do it alone, you're crazy."

She chuckled, "Good point. I guess I should just be thankful that he's still with us. When we lost him to the 'Cons, I knew things would only get worse the longer he was gone. That's why I knew I had to whatever I could to get him back, even if it meant ripping the Nemesis apart."

"But you guys made it through," he offered.

"Thanks to your plan," she gave him a gentle squeeze. "We were all so busy fighting like sparklings, we hadn't even considered using the 'Cons space-bridge to get to Vector Sigma. Which reminds me. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he blushed.

"Yes I do," she affirmed. "You've done more than enough for me, and the rest of Team Prime since I met you. Sure, you've made one or two mistakes, but I've done worse. It's your bravery and ingenuity that makes impossible for me to ever regret coming back for you."

"Thanks," he leaned into her embrace. "Arcee, I have to show you something." She released him and he rolled up his sleeves, gauging her reactions. She gasped softly at the scars adorning his arms. Seeing the question in her gaze, he spoke, "Richard Darby gave them to me." He'd never call that man his father; they were related in blood only. "For so many years, they were his reminder of how weak I was, how worthless I am. I guess I was afraid of the pity I'd get whenever someone saw them, like the kind I see in your optics right now. But that was just his ghost hanging over me. I want to get stronger, Arcee. I want to be able to protect the people I care about, you included."

She smiled warmly, "That's sweet but I can take care of myself."

"Just call me 'old-fashioned'."

She wrapped her arm around him again and he leaned in as they watched the sunset. Jack would get stronger in order to protect the people dearest to him, even if they could already protect themselves. Like that, the words of Sgt. Foley registered in his mind.

'A future Ranger,' he pondered.