Somewhere, he existed. He didn't know much about himself, just that he was; had been; should be. It was all so confusing. He knew there was something to him, that he was missing himself; part of himself. But he couldn't say why or how he had managed to lose this part.

Around him, there was nothing.

There should have been something. More than just something... someone. But who? He couldn't catch a coherent thought, though his logic processes were doing fine. What had happened? Who was he?

::Barricade::

Yes, he was Barricade.

He turned to the voice. It was familiar.

Then it came. It touched him, ran questing fingers over his outer shell, and he flinched. What was it? What did it want?

::Barricade, it's Sam. Hold on. Just hold one::

The next thoughts were not his own. They were infused into him like liquid fire, taking up his thinking, his action, and he went with them. They did things, they acted for him, and he was just a watcher. He watched as part of him lashed out against what had touched him and he felt the other withdraw, hurt. Not badly, but hurt.

::Stop fighting me. I'm here to help you!::

And then the familiar presence was everywhere, holding him together, keeping his thoughts from sloshing off into nothingness.

Barricade suddenly recognized it. A human mind, powerful and so alien to his mechanoid mind, but still… he knew it.

::Sam?::

He was greeted by relief.

::Yeah. Hang on, Just hang on. Almost there. Almost…::

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Arcee thanked her small size that she could be with Trent in a manner. She had to crouch a little to fit in the room, but with only close to nine feet she easily fit when sitting down. Her optics were on the still form on the bed, taking in all the various tubes leading in and out of the fragile body. The doctors had elevated the broken leg, which had been operated on again just yesterday. More surgery would be necessary for Trent to perhaps regain full use. The ribs were a smaller problem compared to the internal damage, like perforated lungs. One kidney might have to be removed, but so far it looked like it could heal completely. His spleen had been removed already. The head trauma was another matter of concern and the doctors had already had to relieve pressure on the brain, which had meant shaving Trent's head for the operation. Right now his head was wrapped in bandages.

Her fault.

Had she been more alert, had she paid more attention…

Trent had been dressed in protective gear, but nothing short of Cybertronian armor could have protected him from these injuries.

Part of Arcee hated Chromia for what she had done. Part of her wondered if they could ever get the old Chromia back. And yet another part whispered that she might have killed humans before, that her delusion could have cost lives already.

The door opened and the known figure of Dr. Mark Keyron walked in. He checked the readings on the multiple monitors. No change. There was no change because Trent would be kept in an artificial coma as long as necessary.

Arcee watched him silently. There was nothing else for her to do. She felt useless. And alone.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lennox had slept soundly for about six hours, which was a lot for him. Ever since the Allspark changes the need for sleep had grown less, but he felt no adverse effects. Usually two or three hours were enough.

It was the middle of the night, but the base was rather busy. With the events of late it was no small wonder. He nodded at some of the soldiers he knew and found his way down into the heavily secured stasis chamber.

Lieutenant Carlsson was on duty and the man gave him a salute, despite the fact that Will wasn't in the military any more, let alone anyone's superior.

He stepped into the large room that held several stasis chambers and looked at the tall cylinder that held Chromia. She was small, like all troubleshooters, when compared to the regular Cybertronian mechanoid. About ten feet, which meant she was taller than Arcee, but with just as little bulk and the same open construction. From what Will had seen Chromia had chosen a four-wheel vehicle mode, unlike Arcee, and her primary colors were orange and black.

She looked heavily damaged. No one had repaired the injuries. The optics were dark, the body frame lax. The monitor on one side of the cylinder showed no processor activity.

So this was Chromia. Ironhide's ex. How weird was that? They hadn't been bonded, just shared the occasional moment, but still… it didn't really sit well with Lennox.

He pushed the first trickles of jealousy aside, squelching those feelings.

Runes swirled around his left hand and he pressed it against the transparent material of the cylinder. The glyphs flowed toward that point of contact, all ancient code, and Will thought he felt the spark inside the damaged shell. It felt… bad. Sick. Torn.

He stepped back, severing the contact, breathing hard. Nausea rose inside him and he shook his head.

"Shit," Will murmured.

He hated it when he gave in to his own curiosity about the possibilities of his abilities, and then got smacked into the face with something he hadn't expected.

Steeling himself he placed his hand against the cylinder once more and waited. Runes drifted along his fingers in agitation and he felt his whole body tense. The spark was there again, a shadow of what Ironhide felt like, but it was unmistakably a mechanoid spark. It was tainted by trauma and suffering and torture and it made Will sick again. Here was a mech who had turned insane because of the war and God only knew how many more there were. This wasn't the Decepticon obsession with domination of a weaker species, the need to conquer and kill the enemy. This was pure insanity.

Lennox stepped back once more and clenched his hand into a fist. A single rune pulsed over his knuckles and disappeared.

He looked at the motionless body shell, wondering what Prime wanted to do with her. This wasn't simple physical damage. There was a strong, overpowering mental component where only friends and family might be able to help with professional assistance.

Someone like Ironhide. Someone who Chromia knew and had trusted in the past.

Will pushed those thoughts away, but they didn't budge. Deep in thought he left the room again.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Barricade woke with the terrible sensation of suffocating and his mind went immediately blank with panic. Mechanoids didn't breathe, the feeling was like something suffocation probably felt like. Over-sensitivity to everything hit him like a sledge-hammer; too much sound and light! Too much bombarding his body. He activated his optics, shielding them automatically against the glare of the light. He gasped as he felt energon course through him like liquid fire. He sat up, panic threatening to take over.

Enemy lines.

Him off-line.

Unable to defend himself.

Emergency operating procedures uploaded and weapons tried to go online. His whole body went into defense mode… and his systems locked.

The panic doubled. His weapons weren't reacting; he had no weapons! He was without protection, without defense, and his mind was a jumbled mess.

The last memories came back, of pain and something ripping him apart, tearing into his spark and shattering it.

"Barricade, stay calm!" a familiar voice said and someone took his shoulder, trying to get him to lie down again. "It's okay."

A presence touched his mind and wrapped a secure blanket like a shield around him, helping to disarm the panic and calm him down.

::You're safe::

"Jazz?" he rasped. Another shiver went through him and he reached for the Autobot. His fingers encountered smooth metal and grabbed onto it.

"Yes, it's me. Calm down."

His optics finally fixed on a face and a reassuring smile. It was Jazz. "Where...?" And then he realized where he was. Med bay.

Someone else appeared. It was Ratchet. The Autobot methodically checked him and, mainly because he was much too weak and confused, Barricade let him. Jazz was always close by and he became also aware of someone sitting on the desk across the room.

Red optics met dark, human eyes.

::You'll be fine:: Sam Witwicky told him.

The human sounded close to completely exhausted and Barricade had learned enough about this species, and this particular human, to know he was dead on his feet. Pale, circles under his eyes, and his mind-presence was weaker than usual. Shadows of a headache trickled through the connection between them and the food wrappers next to Sam were a dead giveaway.

::Hey, talk about yourself. You nearly died:. Sam replied, trying for light but failing.

It had been bad.

"Looks good," Ratchet finally said, finishing his examination. "You need to rest and I strongly advise against transformation, but you are on the way to a full recovery."

The medic nodded at Sam, almost like thanking him, and Barricade tried to recall what had happened. He sat up again and was hit by total disorientation. A strong hand took his arm and kept him where he was.

"Take it easy. You aren't strong enough to go anywhere," Jazz advised.

"I'm perfectly fine," Barricade snarled, his voice too uneven for his own liking.

He slid out of the bed with an angry scowl, the scowl deepening as his legs threatened to give way beneath him. He forced himself to stand upright.

"I can see that."

He glared at his bonded, but there was no heat behind it.

"Recharge, you two," Ratchet told them. "Now. Barricade, you need to really take it easy. I had to completely disconnect and reconstruct your spark chamber. You nearly died."

The former Decepticon stared at the Autobot, thunderstruck. Then his optics shifted to Sam, awareness of what had occurred rising. Memories teased him and he shivered.

Nearly died… spark shattered… and a strong, non-mechanoid mind keeping him together and helping him through it all.

::All in a day's work:: Sam told him, mind-voice barely a murmur.

::Recharge:: Barricade growled, making it almost an order.

He was still struggling with the fact that the technopath had kept him alive, had… seen it all. More than ever. Probably everything there was to his very core being.

Jazz stepped into his line of view. "Recharge, now," he ordered. "You and Sam can hash it all out later."

The Autobot sounded as rough and ragged as Barricade felt himself. He didn't fight when he was almost manhandled onto a recharge unit and he noticed almost absent-mindedly that his body was actually his protoform. His chameleon circuits were offline and he didn't have the energy to even try to convert his outer shell.

Curling his fingers, now without claws, around Jazz's wrist he stopped the silver mech from leaving.

The bond between them felt tight, strained, almost like the time when Jazz had been brought back by the Allspark and Barricade had been the one who had survived it all with barely a scrape. Jazz smiled and placed a hand onto his chest, over his spark chamber, and Barricade felt the bond shiver with the need to be close.

They had made it. Again.

"What about the troubleshooter?"

"Chromia's still off-line. Ratchet's keeping her that way. Arcee's alive. Just a bit shaken up."

Jazz's fingers brushed over the smooth, dark protoform metal. His optics were burning with an inner need that was reflected by Barricade.

"Recharge," the former Decepticon only said.

Afterwards, when their shells had enough power, their systems had been cleansed and realigned, they would handle everything else.

Jazz nodded and reluctantly left, walking over to the second recharge unit. As both sank into recharge, Barricade felt Jazz's touch and let his spark-bonded flow closer. He relaxed into the contact, aware of how messed up his systems really were when the estimated recharge time appeared. Then he shut down everything but the essentials and let the unit take over.

tbc...