Author's Note: Once again, I must apologize for such a late post. At least, you finally get some romance and heroism in here. Oh and our mystery transformer, well I'll reveal his name in the next chapter. So hold on to your hard drives, bots. It's coming.

Chapter 9

Darkness. Flashes. Ugly images of torture, horror, and rape. They were still very fresh scars across Isis' mind. Her body was burning up, but she was drenched in a cold sweat. Her head moved restlessly on the pillow, her lips mouthed silent words as her mind struggled to battle the images of nightmares. It was loosing. The Shifter seemed to be everywhere, inside her mind and invading her body. Isis cried out, her fluid pump raced, and her body went through several violent convolutions apparently trying to get rid of the feeling of a foreign invasion inside her. Nanoclicks later, she felt something cool and wet run over her face and shoulders, and for a moment, Isis fell into an odd peace. Then the nightmare began again.

Suddenly the dark abyss of her optics swelled with a crimson light, as she was finally awake. Her breathing was heavy as she sat up in bed and ran a hand through her ocean-blue hair. It was tangled and wet from her sweat. Isis looked down at herself and was pleasantly surprised to find that she was in fact more or less dressed at least up to her waist. A cream colored blanket covered her lower body.

What had happened to her? Putting her head in her hands, Isis tried to compose herself. Her body and head ached, and she was sour all over. She remembered the glowing blade pressed to her throat, Shifter's eerie face staring at her, mocking her, and then…Isis shuddered. Then nothing; only darkness. She wished she could forget everything, just block it out of her memory, but she couldn't. It had been a living nightmare, and it was real. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Isis looked up, realizing the fact that she didn't know where she was. Looking around, she saw that this was definitely not the Predacon torture chamber. It was a bedroom, one that reminded her of Taratron's much more than her own. How did she get here and where was here, anyway? The last thing Isis could remember before she lost conciseness was the warm, reassuring voice. Someone had been there, someone else besides Shifter. Whoever it was, he must have gotten her out, and Isis had a pretty good idea who her mysterious rescuer was.

The door in front of her slid open, and the silver transformer stepped in the room. In his hands he held a washcloth, that was still dripping wet, leaving a wet stain on the carpet. He looked up, and Isis' crimson optics met his golden ones. When he saw that she was awake, he smiled, but as Isis saw his smile seemed so sad.

"Hi," was all that she could say, for she didn't trust her voice.

"How do you feel?" he walked towards her and pulled a chair up next to the bed.

"I'll…I'll be okay," she preyed to Primus that would be true.

"I did not ask how you will be," his voice sounded stern, but kind. "I asked how you are right now."

Isis stared at him for a long moment and than decided to be completely open. For some reason, this stranger looked like he may understand. "I want to die," her voice was bitter. "I have lived through Predacon attacks, I've watched by family die, I have killed as well, but I have never felt pain like this. This feeling of sorrow and pain, it feels like it's burning into the very core of my spark. And I don't want to feel it anymore. I just want to die." Silent tears rolled down her face.

"I know," he nodded sympathetically.

"You told me not to go," she looked up at him. "I should have listened." She was silent for another moment. "You risked your own life to get me out of that inferno, didn't you?"

It was more of a statement than a question. "I had to so something."

"Huh," Isis snorted. "No, you didn't. I sure as hell was too much of an ass hole to let you help. So why did you bother?"

"The tale is…complicated," he admitted. "A part of it has nothing to do with you. I will explain everything, but not now. For now I want you to rest," he got up and turned to leave.

"Wait," Isis called back, and he turned. "Do you have a bathroom here, or something? I'd like to clean up a bit."

"Of course," the transformer pointed to the small room down the hall. "Right over there."

"Thank you," she slowly got up, with the bed sheet still wrapped around her waist since she was only half dressed, and walked over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind herself. Once Isis was sure that the male wouldn't barge in on her, she locked the door and let the sheet drop to the floor. Slowly turning around, she leaned heavily on the sink and looked in the mirror.

What she saw terrified her. Isis saw herself, a broken, defeated warrior. Her damp hair fell limply around her face and shoulders. Perspiration and weariness covered her face like a black mask, a reminder of slow torture and spark wrenching agony. The next thing she noticed was a thin, bloody mark right bellow her right optic, left by Shifter when he'd sliced across her face with her own energon blade. The cut was already closing, but it would certainly leave a scar. Just like the scar that would be left upon her spark for all eternity.

Tears flooded her eyes, as Isis stepped back from the mirror refusing to look again. As she took those few steps back, Isis felt something wet and sticky between her thighs. Something that impaired her movement. Looking down, her optics widened in horror. Her inner thighs were covered with blood. Her own blood, blood that had spilled from that monster's forceful and violent intrusion. It was all happening again.

Screaming in terror, Isis garbed her temples and fell to her knees; her legs refusing to hold her up any longer. As she leaned forward, continuing to cry out, her tears fell to the linoleum floor of the bathroom in tiny splashes, creating salty puddles of grief, anger, and fear.

"Isis!" she hardly heard her rescuer banging on the door. "Isis, open the door!" when he realized that she either wouldn't or couldn't, he resorted to desperate measures. "Computer, release the door lock. Authorization code: Elendil's heir." The door slid open with a hiss, and the silver transformer ran inside the room.

Isis curled up in a corner, holding her knees tightly and sobbing. Her cries had died down, but she was all but incoherent. The male took a few cautious steps towards her and squatted so that they were on the same level.

"Isis?" his voice was a whisper. "Isis, I know what you are going through. Please let me help you." He leaned closer to her and placed both hands on her shoulders.

"No, please," she murmured through her tears. "Not again. Primus, not again."

"Hush," the transformer's voice was soft. He put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly to his body. Isis continued to sob, bearing her tear soaked face into his chest. "No one will ever harm you again. I swear it."

He stood up, with Isis still in his arms Picking her up, he walked out of the bathroom and gently lowered her into the bed. Once he was sure she'd be alright, he went to find a clean sheet and brought it back, covering it over her nearly-naked form. Isis muttered something again, but finally fell into a restless, fevered sleep.