A/N: As I stated in an author's note a while ago, I was on vacation in Yellowstone for a short time. While I was there, I rewrote what I have of this fanfic. Older readers may see several similarities to the older version. I'll try to post somewhat regularly (every day or two, hopefully).

"Please don't tell me any more.
There's a weight in your eyes,
and it weighs on my heart.
Where have the children gone?
We were innocent once,
but that was so long ago."

–– Flyleaf, "Have we Lost"

The light of the setting sun glinted off of Jack's riding helmet as he and Arcee drove through the flat, northern Missouri landscape. Jack could see for miles, the grass fields seemed as endless as space itself. Jack glanced at the road, which sped by so fast the only thing he could focus on was the scarlet shadow cast by he and Arcee. He could tell that the road wasn't used often, as it was made of old, pale asphalt. Before them loomed a lone gas station that also looked like it wasn't used often. It was deserted. Arcee slowed to a stop when they reached it.

"I'm going to go out back and stretch. You should get some dinner."

Jack climbed off and removed his helmet. "I've gotta save my money, Arcee."

"Then go inside and use the––what?––bathroom?" She activated her holoform. "I don't want you to have an accident."

Jack rolled his eyes and playfully jabbed at her holoform with his helmet. Then he went inside. The small store was empty––not even a cashier stood at the counter. Instead, there was a box for money. Most of the food looked old and expired anyway.

He called out. No answer. He checked out the bathroom, but it was too disgusting to use. After a moment of hesitation, he withdrew his phone from his pocket and navigated to his mom's contact.

"I would if I could, Mom." He squeezed the phone. She must have been so worried. "One text couldn't hurt, right?" He glanced out the window again. No Arcee.

hey mom. safe with RC. luv u

He closed his eyes and exhaled, then hid the phone away again.

...

Agent Fowler snorted and slammed his phone down. The drab furnishing of the room didn't help his nerves. He'd just been talking to Megatron, and the Decepticon warlord had once again ordered him and his troops to stand down.

"Damn bastard." Fowler rubbed his eyes, but was interrupted by someone at the door.

"Bill?" He looked up when June Darby entered. Her hair stuck out like wires and the prominent bags under her eyes got worse by the day. "When will those medical supplies be here? I've got wounded men and women––"

"I'm doing the best I can, June." He pinched the bridge of his nose, much like Ratchet used to do. June sighed and crossed the room to his desk.

"They're out there. They have to be." She rested her hand atop his. "The bad guys never win."

Fowler shook his head. "This isn't a fairytale." He looked to the window. The ground outside was nearly gray. Dismal clouds hung above, looking nearly full to the brim with rain. A thunderstorm was not what they needed right now.

June wasn't listening. Her gaze was locked on her phone, which she held in a death grip against her chest. Fowler squinted at her.

"June––"

"Jack's alive." She looked up at him. "He's alive !" She laughed and left the room with a newfound bounce in her step. "Don't forget those supplies, Bill!"

He didn't have the heart to tell her that Jack was probably dead already.

...

Arcee folded back down into her vehicle mode and rolled to the front of the gas station. Jack appeared a moment later, an indiscernible expression on his face.

"Something wrong?" She tilted her mirror towards him.

"What?" He settled himself on the seat. "No. No. Just…just thinking."

"About what?" She lifted her brake and they were off across the same landscape.

He didn't answer for a while, instead focusing on the sky above. A shadow was forming in the distance. A mountain of clouds laid ahead. He sighed. "What if we're the only ones left?"

She kicked the speed up a notch. Jack wished he could feel the wind against his face. It infiltrated his shirt, his pants, but his face was sweating.

"We're not. The others have survived this long––overcome worse challenges. Pit, Ratchet met Overlord and survived," Arcee said, a little unsteadily. She ignored his confused look. "They're not dead. And there were other bots on the Ark."

"Where are they now?"

"Scattered among the stars."

They rode in silence after that. Jack even forgot about the text. Then they heard a jet engine. Jack thought it was thunder, but Arcee slowed a little and tilted her mirrors up.

"Scrap!" She skidded to a halt. "Off." He was practically thrown off as she transformed and called up her blasters. Above them hovered eight Decepticon seekers, silver armor gleaming menacingly in the little sunlight that remained. Jack looked around. There was no place to hide.

The drones landed and pointed their own blasters back at Arcee. The leader leaned forward. Despite his mask, his visor was sinister.

"Exterminate them."

...

Along a lengthy, lonely road drove a black and yellow muscle car. Above it flew a Cybertronian jet. The drone scanned the car for a second time, but it still came up as "no match." He forwarded the scan to his superiors anyway.

Bumblebee pulled off the road and parked under a lone tree. Raf hopped out and peered into the graying sky. The drone was gone.

"Guess your new paint job works, Bee." He looked up at his companion, who'd transformed. He sat down and got his computer out. "Wouldn't hurt to take a break, right?"

Bumblebee shrugged and pointed down the road. Fortunately, it didn't seem to be incredibly populated.

"Yeah, I know. We've still got a long way to go until we reach Jasper. And Darkmount." He shivered. "Maybe we should call Fowler."

Bumblebee chirped lowly. Raf sighed.

"You're right. Then we'd get caught. But couldn't Fowler protect us?"

Bumblebee chirped again and shook his head. Raf nodded and went back to searching his usual conspiracy sites.

"Nothing but rubber masks and bad CG––" He stared at his screen and did a double take. "Bee, I think I just found Ratchet."