Event Eleven

When the body is shattered, it is the illusion of the self that carries one through the darkest of times. Some things can never be repaired.

He never would have thanked the 'Cons for anything, but this was a miracle in disguise...at least for now. There were two features he had figured out about the Pretender; one was its ability to be invisible for a while. The other was its ability to change outfits and faces to fit whatever demographic he was to hide in. So, since the N.E.S.T. team was sure to know every single man they had, he would sit tight in one of the humans' vehicles until they reached Logan. Then he would leave them and try to find Charlie on his own. It was a good plan, he was sure.

He went to his bunker and shut the door. He could concentrate on his Pretender better when his frame was in recharge, so it just made more sense to make it appear as though he intended to recharge through this crisis.

The pretender slipped through the base quickly, easily sliding into an empty space inside one of the N.E.S.T. jeeps headed for Logan.

The trip was made in record time – for the Autobots – and the search began almost instantly as soon as they arrived, everyone braking into teams to do a full sweep of the town and surrounding areas. They didn't have much to go on to start their search, so the men had to get creative to avoid suspicion by the locals. After all, they might have been a specialized team, but they were still military in a collage town.

Jazz was listening attentively to all of the emergency broadcasts, but he split his attention long enough to call the number Scatterblade had given him.

"Logan Medical, how can I help you?" A woman's voice answered.

"Hello, Ah'm lookin' fer Charlie," Jazz wasn't sure if the female voice on the other end was the femme he was looking for or not, but asking for the human by name couldn't hurt.

"Are you family or friend?" The woman asked in an all too professional tone.

Jazz was pretty familiar with the way humans acted. This woman was guarding information about Charlie, and the question led him to believe that it probably wasn't good information either. "Uh, friend," the mech lied.

"I'm sorry, sir," she started in a kinder, yet still professional tone, "I can't release specifics right now, but there was a car accident. I can take a message for you if you would like."

"Slag," the mech registered two things; car wreck and Logan Medical. "Muh name's Jazz, thank ya fer tellin' meh, we'll come see her when she's out."

The phone clicked and he sent out a message to the others. ::Guys, Ah've located th' human at Logan Medical, an' Ah think Ah know what happened ta Illusory...we gotta find her quick.::

Scatterblade hesitated for a brief moment. His frantic thoughts turned to Illusory's plea to him.::Scatterblade, Ah need ya ta come look after Charlie...:: Her message replayed in his processor again and again before his mind was made up.

Ejecting himself from the vehicle he ran toward the hospital. The 'Bots would take care of Illusory, Charlie was much more fragile. Besides, Illusory told him to look after her and he wasn't going to let the femme down.

Scatterblade passed through the hospital easily enough, 'dressing' himself in scrubs and finding Charlie's room using one of the hospital computers, also noting that Charlie was being watched over by her aunt and uncle. It was about lunch time now and he hoped Charlie's aunt and uncle had gone down to the cafeteria to eat. He paused a moment to listen before he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

The room was indeed empty, aside from the single still form tucked neatly in bed.

He waited a few kliks, unsure of what to do or what to think. She was so very still, her hair was in a loose, very distressed pony tail. Blood matted the hair around her face and the mech could see several bandages on cuts. Blue and purple bruises covered what was visible of her right arm. He almost didn't comprehend it. Then his knees gave out as it hit him. He caught himself and lowered down into a chair, disbelief and anger churning his tanks.

Her arm was fine from the shoulder down to the elbow, but after that point a white bandage wrapped tightly around what was left of her lower arm. Scatterblade almost lost the connection to the pretender with the violent tirade of emotions going through him, but he forced himself to calm down and keep control of the shaking body. "Illusory's gonna glitch," he whispered trying to break the awful silence that clung to the room between Charlie's breaths.

He reached out to touch her face but pulled back, sensors alerting him that Charlie's family was coming down the hall. In panic, he knocked over the chair he had been sitting in, causing a loud noise to fill the room. With a soft curse he righted it, then slipped out of the room before her family got close enough to spot him. He needed to calm down before he completely lost control in his grief. He needed to stay strong, pull himself together, focus.

He needed to find a computer, he thought starting to calm down. The greatest downfall of his pretender was its inability to just tap into the local data streams. If he could access a computer long enough to find Charlie's report, then there was a high chance it might say where the wreck was and where Illusory had been impounded.

...

The mechs all started searching for car wrecks with the specific alt mode Illusory had. When they discovered the multiple car wreck caused by a drunk driver, they rushed to the scene. They suspected the femme wouldn't be there, but at least they would have a place to start.

The 'bots immediately scanned for evidence upon arriving at the scene and it wasn't long before they found bits of Illusory's armor; shattered beneath the force of impact. She was a Neutral spy, not a warrior, and as such, her armor was not very strong. She was designed for speed and maneuverability, not impact. The energon still seeping into the ground was clear evidence of that.

Jazz traced the tire tracks back to the point of impact and was disturbed by just how far the femme was thrown. "Ah hope they survived," he lamented softly.

Their human teammates were already scouring the area, finding anyone who had any information, but the people who had come to clean up had no idea where anyone or anything had been taken, they were just there to clean.

A personal com message pinged Jazz. ::Where are you guys?:: Scatterblade asked.

::On th' highway, what's up?::

::I went to see Charlie,:: the young black mech said, his voice carrying obvious distress. ::She's alive but...:: he didn't want to finish. ::I have Illusory's location. They took her to an impound lot.::

::Where? Th' sooner we can get ta her, th' better.:: The mech specifically didn't ask how the front-liner had gotten there, he didn't want to know. After all, he was the one that had mentioned the loophole in the rules Optimus set.

Scatterblade sent him the coordinates and decided to head there himself. The 'Bots wouldn't be able to register him and it would be quicker to ride with the soldiers than walk back to base.

Jazz shared his information in the same manner he would have shared an interesting bit of news; without reference of where it came from, or any preamble before he headed out toward the impound lot. The others knew better than to question him when it came to details on his information and followed the mech as he sped off, only pausing long enough to gather their human team mates.

Reaching the impound lot, Will and Rob rushed to the station to clear the femme.

Ratchet was already scanning the lot for the femme; growing more distressed as his scans came up empty. ::Jazz, are you positive this is the place?::

::As sure as Ah can be.:: The saboteur was devoting just as much of his sensor array searching for the femme as the medic, and was growing a little less sure as each scan passed.

Inside, the humans were having trouble getting through; the man inside didn't want to let anyone through apparently – government or not.

"Look," Will finally lost his patience, "we have all the legal right to pass that we need to have, let us through or I will have you so deep in red tape you will never see daylight again."

"Yeah," Rob agreed, "and that's if I don't deal with you first." As different sectors of the same team, each man held different authority, but they could easily compile them for the best effect.

Scatterblade reached the impound lot under his own volition, and was slightly surprised to find everyone just sitting there. Had he been wrong? Was this the wrong place? Or...maybe it was worse than he had feared. ::Illusory? Can you hear this? It's Scatterblade, come in,:: he called over a private com to the femme.

Somewhere, deep in her processor, the femme heard the com, but she couldn't bring herself around enough to respond. Instead, she attempted to release the dampener that was programmed to come online if she went offline. It was a struggle, but for the briefest of moments she was able to drop it before losing that small grasp on consciousness.

::I got her!:: Ratchet declared, his alt mode pushing through the gates even as they started to open to allow him in. The others were quick to follow, but as they passed through the gates, they lost the weak signal they had gotten. ::Look for her, she's here somewhere,:: the medic snapped. His scans hadn't been able to obtain a full sweep, but what he had gotten back wasn't pretty.

Scatterblade had also caught the brief signal and jumped on it. The impound lot was a maze of varying levels of dilapidated vehicles and it was infuriating him. He ran through the lot looking for anything that looked familiar, and as he passed one row in desperation he paused. He was pretty sure he had just seen her alt mode. He hurried toward the figure but stopped short, falling to his knees trying in vain to grab the closest car to keep him up.

The femme's frame was twisted, almost all of her armor – acting as the shell of the car's exterior – had been torn from her left side, exposing much of her inner workings. The front left tire was gone, completely torn from its place. All of her windows were webbed with thick cracks. Blood still stained her interior from Charlie's injuries. Thick, blue energon coated nearly everything there, splashing over the white of her hood and what remained of her back panel. It was not running freely any longer, but a large puddle had formed beneath her.

The mech pushed the pretender to his feet and place a hand on a part of his friend's alt mode that wasn't covered in energon. "Oh Primus," he groaned.

Several humans came tromping by, hardly noticing the pretender and the wrecked car. That is, until one of them noticed the bright blue liquid smearing the white paint.

"Hey!" One of the soldiers shouted. "Over here!"

Scatterblade vanished from sight at the sound of the soldier's voice, and stayed opposite the aisle from the others. He simply couldn't get himself to leave, but he didn't want to be in the way either.

Ratchet moved in quickly enough, scanning the femme carefully as he got close to her. "We have to get her out of here, I can't do much without transforming."

"This place has the equipment to haul," Rob offered as he took stock of the many tow trucks lining the impound lot. "We can confiscate one of them to get her home...will...uh, will she be okay that long?" Even if they knew very little about their alien friends, the humans could easily see the femme was hurt badly, and they were all thinking the worst.

"She is in emergency stasis; damage is being kept to a minimum..." It wasn't so much an answer as it was a reason to act quickly. "I need to get her to where I can do some work to get her stable."

"On it." Will and Rob split instantly, Will going to confiscate one of the trucks and Rob to inform the attendant that he was not going to stop them.

Scatterblade stood useless. He didn't want anyone, except Jazz, to know that he had come and he knew he would be of better help if he just stood aside and let the other 'bots get Illusory back to base.

When the humans got the truck into position and started hauling the femme up, her frame shook unnaturally. Even after they had her pulled up on the flatbed and secured, she shook slightly. The movement could have been easily dismissed as the rumbling of the truck – but any looking that knew, could tell it was the femme's stressed body reacting to more pain than she could handle, even in the state of unconsciousness she was currently in.

"Let's go!" Will called from his place in the passenger seat of the confiscated truck.

Scatterblade was thankful for the command jarring him out of his shock. Following the humans, he joined the team once again and settled in trying hard to keep memory files from jumbling or rearing their ugly heads again. He couldn't help but to feel that this was just more of the same. The poor femme had been swept up in the ever ill-fated trudges of his life.

They drove for quite some distance before Ratchet demanded they stop so he could tend to the femme. Pulling off the road, they found a spot mostly secluded from any stray eyes and the medic was the first to transform. Not one other mech had the opportunity to transform before he had his hands deep within the femme, trying to repair some of her more vital lines.

"I can't believe a human vehicle did this to her," he griped. "I haven't seen armor this flimsy since..." he let the sentence drift, not really wanting to remember the last time he had seen civilian grade armor torn in such violent ways.

"She gonna live?" Rob asked as he dared climb up on the back of the truck beside the femme, though he stayed on the passenger side to keep from being in Ratchet's way.

"If I have anything to say about it, she will." The medic's movements were very confident and well-practiced as he worked.

The young black mech was relieved by Ratchet's declaration. He wanted to stay near Illusory so that he could try to talk to her but he didn't dare leave the humans' vehicle. So he instead did his best through a silent com. She wasn't answering, but he didn't care; he hoped that she at least knew he was there.

"What about th' human?" Jazz asked after the silence had gone on long enough. "Don't ya think we should keep an eye on her? After all, there's energon everywhere, what if she was exposed?"

"That is a reasonable observation," Optimus admitted, his optics watching the medic work on the femme.

"Ah'll do it," Jazz volunteered.

"I will stay as well," Prowl spoke up.

"Very well," Optimus consented, "keep us updated."

"Yes, sir." Prowl saluted and turned to head back to the town.

Jazz spared one last look for the femme before he also turned to go back. As he reached the road he paused. ::Scatterblade, are you coming with us, or are you staying with Lu?::

The front liner nodded to himself after a short pause. ::She's in good hands. Illusory asked me to watch out for Charlie. I'll head back with you guys.::

The saboteur waited, not entirely sure what he was waiting for, but knowing that Scatterblade was in the area somewhere.

The pretender hurried from the jeep and up to Jazz. He would never get used to how big everyone looked when he was in pretender form. He placed a hand on Jazz's door. ::I'm right behind you.::

Jazz started at the touch, he hadn't sensed anything approaching at all. He opened his door quickly enough. ::Hop in.::

The black mech sighed in relief and climbed into the driver's seat of the small Solstice. He let the invisibility fade and he finally felt the exhaustion of this small frame. "Thanks Jazz," he sighed.

"Don't mention it. So, this is yer pretender? Interestin'."

"Yeah. It came in handy today." Scatterblade rested against the seat and shut his eyes.

"Yeah, it sure did," Jazz agreed.

The silver mech closed his door and took to the road fast enough to fishtail slightly. Prowl was waiting not far, an inquiring ping hit Jazz's com, but he simply explained that he had to pick up someone. "How ya holdin' up?"

"I'll be fine," he replied shaking his head.

Jazz allowed the silence to linger, letting Scatterblade be with his thoughts and rest as they returned to town and then to the hospital Charlie had been taken to. The two mechs parked outside. Jazz quickly drew up his holoform, but Prowl chose to keep all his focus on the perimeter instead.

Scatterblade stepped out glancing at his odd reflection when Jazz's door closed. His skin was dark and the long black hair was straight. His eyes, blue like his optics, contrasted greatly with the Native American look. He wore simple grey t-shirt and denim jeans with sneakers on his feet. It was the same as his holoform and he found it somewhat interesting that the pretender would default to the same image.

Jazz let Scatterblade lead the way. He had never been in a human hospital, but already it felt too familiar. The only difference was that the patients here weren't ravaged by war. Well, at least a majority of them weren't.

Scatterblade walked past several people so quickly that most didn't notice the change as a white lab coat appeared over his attire. ::Disguise time yet again,:: he joked to Jazz, ::Play along.::

::Ya got th' lead, kid.:: Jazz's holoform smiled with the amusement he was feeling, and he followed Scatterblade's guidance.

The pretender maneuvered the halls and elevator with ease, even after only being here once. He finally came to the door which was on a quiet, nearly deserted floor. He let the coat disappear and knocked on the door. A shorter woman about the same height and red hair as Charlie answered it.

"May I help you?" she asked her face puffed from crying though she tried to smile.

"We're some friends of Charlie's. Can we come in?" Scatterblade asked politely.

The older woman smiled and nodded. "You boys are in luck, she's even awake."

Scatterblade entered and offered a rather broken, though heartfelt smile.

The red head on the bed glanced up at her visitors. At first there was no recognition in her eyes, but as she looked there was a faint spark of realization.

"Hey. Just checked in on Lu. She's in good hands." Scatterblade promised, though his voice didn't quite carry the confidence he wanted.

Charlie smiled nodding slightly. "Good," she wheezed. She tried to clear her throat. Unsuccessful, she went to reach with her right hand to grab the class of water. When the white covered stump barely reached her bedside table, she paused. The two adults looked on in remorse and her aunt looked about ready to cry again.

Charlie let the arm fall and with her left grabbed the water. "I'm glad she's okay," she said softly after drinking.

Jazz watched the human girl, noting her confusion at first, and then her recognition as Scatterblade spoke to her. For a human, she seemed to be taking all of this very well...then again, she was probably heavily dosed on pain medication. He sympathized with her lost limb, a previous conversation coming to mind about how humans didn't have replacement parts like Cybertronians did – she would have to live with the loss forever.

"Ya remember what happened?" He questioned, speaking softly.

She looked down at her arm then up to the newcomer. She didn't know him but he seemed nice. Maybe he was one of the soldiers Illusory had told her about.

Charlie smiled to him and shook her head. "Just what witnesses and paramedics told me. We were driving home and some drunk hit us. I went to sleep on the way back and woke up here," she glanced down again, "without my arm." Her voice trembled somewhat and her eyes clouded with tears. "Gonna need some of that Vicodin again," she mumbled to her family. Her aunt jumped to her feet and prepared the medication.

Jazz nodded, not wanting to push the human any further. It was probably going to take her some time to get used to all of this. ::Ah'm gonna head out. No need ta stress her anymore then she already is. Take yer time, we're not goin' nowhere.:: He clapped a hand on Scatterblade's shoulder before turning for the door. "Ah hope ya feel better lil'lady. Lu'll be wantin' ta see ya on yer feet again."

Charlie nodded giving him a small wave. Scatterblade was about to take a seat when a nurse came in. "Visiting hours are over. Mr. and Mrs. Wall you can stay the night. I've got some special permission for you. Sir," she said turning to the pretender.

Scatterblade nodded, understanding the request. He waved to Charlie then turned to catch up with Jazz. "Couldn't stay," he explained. "Don't - don't really think I wanted to." he said trying not to let his emotions get to him.

"Ah understand. It's hard to see them hurt like that." There had been many times that he had seen his human teammates, friends, and brothers in arms, torn and broken, and it was always hard to see. Not that it was any easier to see his 'bot friends maimed either; but at least they could be fixed most of the time. "Ya wanna head back? Ah can have Prowl hang an' watch over her while Ah take ya to base if ya want."

"Yeah, Ratchet will yell at me if he sees I'm missing half of myself," he chuckled glumly. "I don't like being so disjointed like this."

"How..." the mech started tentatively, "how, exactly, does all that work? Ah mean with ya bein' so far from yerself?" He led the way back through the hospital toward where he was parked outside.

Scatterblade sighed. "I don't know all the specifics. I can use the Pretender and function at the same time though it can be difficult. Most I can do is a ventriloquist act," he joked, "so I just stay still somewhere and focus on keeping this one moving and...pretending, I guess. There is a bit of a strain. I haven't figured out how to refuel this body other than combining the two when we return. That seems to be the only thing I have to worry about. Not sure how it made it this far without glitching to be honest."

"Huh, interestin'. Well," he waved to where his alt mode was sitting just beyond the door waiting for them, "let's get ya back ta yerself. Prowl said he'd stick close ta keep an eye on th' human. Ah'll come back once yer home..." he sounded like there was an 'and' to that statement, but he never finished. His holoform made the action of walking around and getting into the driver's seat before it vanished and he took off.

Scatterblade smiled to himself knowing what he was going to say. Sitting down again made him feel weary. Maybe he should figure out the pretender problem when he got back. He could ask Ratchet about it after his signal was back to normal. Part of him worried about whether or not they'd catch up to the team so that when someone went looking for him they wouldn't see the obvious missing parts and relatively unresponsive mech. The rest of him was just too tired to really care about anything besides Illusory and Charlie. He sighed softly thinking about how Illusory was going to take Charlie's condition or the other way around if Illusory's healing didn't go fast enough.

Jazz made the trip as swiftly as he could, several things driving him to move fast; one was the fact that Scatterblade's pretender form appeared weak and weary – surely a sign that the mech was broaching the limits of this form; another was that he had no idea what was happening with Illusory, and he felt somewhat responsible for her; lastly was that he was afraid the femme might come online at base and find herself surrounded by Autobots that she didn't trust. That would not end well for anyone.

They pulled into base not far behind the others; Ratchet and his emergency alarms had lead the way, clearing the path for the team, but they still had to travel quite a bit slower than they might have liked due to the tow truck's limited capacity and the danger of harming the one it carried.

Ratchet was barking orders to those around him, trying to get Illusory moved to the med bay without causing any further harm to her, but it seemed that every time they touched her, something else cracked or another piece of her armor fell off. "Be careful!" The medic snapped as those that were working to lift her knocked another panel loose.

"Poor Lu," Jazz whispered as he maneuvered around the others, avoiding them so that they wouldn't notice his return until after he had dropped off Scatterblade near his hanger.

Scatterblade pressed his hands on the window so he could see her. It was numbing to seeing her so badly damaged. It felt even worse to be in this vulnerable form, useless and tired, but soon he would be back together and then he would hover like mad outside the med bay like the worried friend he was.

Reaching Scatterblade's hanger, Jazz slid to the shadows and opened his door. "Here's yer stop kid." He waited long enough to be sure the pretender could make it back to his mech form before he commed on the general line to let the others know he had arrived with an update from the human side of things; using the need to refuel as his excuse for coming back with the news.

"Do I owe ya fare?" the pretender joked trying to keep his mind off of everything.

"Let's just call it uh favor ta be called on at uh later date," Jazz said in a way that clearly showed the smile that couldn't be seen.

Scatterblade laughed a big smile on his face. "See ya later," he said slapping the roof of his alt mode as he would to a comrade's shoulder. He hurried to his bunker and slipped inside.

Jazz slid away, transforming when he had reached a point no one would be able to tell where he had just come from, and made his way to the med bay.

They had gotten Illusory inside and set up on a berth. Currently Ratchet and Jolt were struggling to bring the femme online long enough to transform. They were discussing doing a forced transformation, but worried that without her conscious to tell them what was, or wasn't moving, or what was missing, or what was out of place, they might cause more harm than good.

"Come on, Lu," Jazz mumbled from his place near the door. He wanted to see something that would tell him the femme was okay. The damage looked horrible, but he'd seen worse. Of course, it had always been the soldiers that pulled through and Illusory was most definitely not a soldier.

Once Scatterblade felt he was back to normal he hurried to the med bay. He was smart to rest himself while the Pretender was in Logan. He was already feeling the Pretender refuel from his own reserves and it was draining him. If he hadn't been recharging before, he would be in trouble now.

The mech rounded the outside corner of the med bay and hurried inside without preamble. He wanted to see Illusory with his own optics.

Jazz still stood just outside the door as Scatterblade came up beside him.

"She still out?" he asked.

"Yeah," the saboteur nodded slightly, his optics not moving from where the medics worked. "They're tryin' ta get her ta transform so they can work on her, but it ain't goin' so hot."
Scatterblade watched the struggle going on inside and his spark ached to see it. "Illusory," he murmured. ::Come on, you can make it out of this,:: he sent a quiet reassuring message to her.
There was a loud groan, followed by an even louder screech of pain as the femme came tentatively online.
"Illusory!" Ratchet shouted to be heard over her cries. "We need you to transform so we can help you! Can you transform?"
The femme's frame shuttered violently, but there was no obvious attempt to transform.
"She isn't hearing us," Jolt shouted, "Should I give her some analgesics?"
"No, we don't know how stable she is, we can't take the chance. Illusory! You have to listen to me, I want to help you."
Scatterblade jumped at the femme's loud response. "Come on," he cheered softly. ::You're not gonna let some earth vehicle kick you to the curb, are ya?:: He asked praying to Primus she was hearing him.

Beside him, Jazz stood straight, hope shining clearly through his entire frame.

The femme's screams died down to loud whimpers. "Charlie!?" She called out; confusion and desperation clear in her voice. "Charlie!?"

"The human is being cared for, Illusory." Ratchet talked firmly, slowly, hoping that the femme was aware enough to hear him. "You need to listen to me now; we are trying to help you. Can you transform?"

::You kept her safe. She's alive,:: Scatterblade soothed. ::As soon as I can, I'll be out there to help her, but you need to transform right now. You need to open your audios and do what Ratchet says, alright?:: he commanded softly.
With another loud groan, and the horrid sound of tortured metal, the femme began transforming painfully slow as parts tried to move past the damage.

"Good!" Jolt cheered her on. "Just like that, keep going, you're doing fine!" He and Ratchet watched carefully as her damaged parts began unfolding.

Almost all of the damage stayed to her left arm and what was remained of her leg; however, the initial impact had hit her front, leaving heavy damage to her chest area.

Once she was fully in her 'bot mode, Illusory looked around until she saw Scatterblade near the door. "Where?" She asked weakly.

"She's at the hospital in Logan. She's got family looking after her," he said trying to keep his voice level. "She was smiling," he half laughed. "She'll be alright."

Grunting her acceptance, Illusory's optics dimmed, most of her systems already dragging her back into stasis. She glanced at the two medics working on her, and alarm passed over her.

"Stay calm," Ratchet soothed, "we only want to help you."

Scatterblade stepped into the bay and placed a hand on her good arm. "Easy. You're gonna be okay," he said not paying the medics much head. She needed familiarity. She needed someone she trusted.

Her optics fixed on the mech again, fear was apparent, but she didn't struggle against the medics. Instead, she took a deep intake, vented heavily, and fell into stasis.

"She's stable," Ratchet informed the mech quickly, before he could become alarmed. "She's just in a lot of pain and low on energon. A few orns and she'll be up and around."

"This is why civilian class armor should never have been created," Jolt griped as he pulled away the worst of the damaged bits still on the femme. They were destroyed, beyond repair. "She's going to need an upgrade."

"Should Ah go ask Wheeljack ta get started?" Jazz came to look over the femme a little closer, cringing at the splintered armor.

Ratchet nodded. "If you would, that would be very helpful."

Scatterblade vented in relief and managed to grin, albeit weakly. He kept his hand on her arm for a moment longer than stepped back. "What can I do?" he asked, the need to be given an assignment pulling at his systems.

Jolt was quick to get the mech to work – it wasn't often they had volunteers around the med bay. Mostly he had him cleaning energon from the still good armor they removed from the femme; every now and again either Ratchet, or Jolt would ask him to hand them something, or hold something. The two medics worked quickly and rather diligently, putting the femme back to rights in record time.

It wasn't until they were out of ready supplies that they stopped. The femme was stable and most of her damage had been repaired. Her leg still looked rough, but it would at least function, and her chest was no longer crushed in, though much of her sensitive inner workings were exposed.

"That will have to do for now," Ratchet vented finally. "Her self-repair will take care of the finer details; everything else will just have to wait until we can obtain a suitable replacement."

The young black mech nodded, weariness now setting in. He hadn't done nearly as much at the two medics but he felt the pretender refueling itself inside him. It was like a parasite leeching his energy away, recharge sounded amazing right about now.

Ratchet was the first to leave the med bay – though he didn't go far; only to a hanger across from the building that he had demanded as his own so that he could be close at all times.

Jolt vented as he watched his mentor leave. "You might as well go rest while you can. Nothing stays calm around here for very long," the younger medic warned.

The front liner nodded giving Illusory's hand one last squeeze before heading to the door.

An orn passed before Illusory came back online; though when she did it was heard around the base. The femme had been confused; she didn't know where she was, she didn't remember everything that had happened, but what she did remember had her screaming like a banshee trying to get away from the hands that tried to keep her on the medical berth.

::Scatterblade!:: Ratchet roared over the general com line. ::Would you please come to the med bay!:: It was not a request by any means, despite the words used. Ratchet was obviously struggling and looking for anything he thought might give him an upper hand.

The black Bonneville spun out of his bunker. Transforming to his bipedal mode, he jumped up and skidded to a halt, his hand catching the door frame to the med bay to turn himself around, then rushed to Illusory. "Hey! Calm down! It's me! It's Blade," he soothed taking her face in his hands gently.

"Where am Ah?" She asked shakily. "What happened?" Her optics were wild with confusion and fear, darting from Scatterblade to the other 'bots still trying to keep her from hurting herself. "Get off meh!"

"Stay still and I'll tell you," he compromised. He looked to Ratchet, hoping he looked confident. "Could you step off for a kilk?"

Illusory calmed a little as the others backed away cautiously. She tried to sit up, but found the motion painful and settled back. "What's goin' on?" She groaned miserably.

"Stay still," he reminded, his voice much softer this time. "I have some news that's- hard to take but you have to stay still." He vented heavily as he collected himself. "You and Charlie were hit by a drunk driver. Charlie was taken to the hospital but she's in stable condition. She's alive and her family is with her. She's in good hands. Jolt and Ratchet have been trying to do the same for you."

The femme stilled as she tried to sort through her recent memories; the accident came slamming back to her very suddenly. "Oh, Primus..." she whispered. "Ah should'a been payin' more attention..." she felt horrible. She remembered seeing the blood, the strangeness of Charlie's still body, her fear. "She's gonna be okay? How bad was she hurt?"

Scatterblade paused, working up the next bit of news. "The damage to her arm was so severe...that they had to amputate."

Illusory groaned again. "How long 'til they can repair it?" She pressed one of her own hands to her face, trying to rub away the confusion and grogginess.

There were a few sounds of surprise and sympathy from those around them at her comment. Illusory didn't know much about humans, that much was clear.

The front liner hung his head, not realizing he would have to spell it out for her. "They can't, Illusory," he said mournfully. "Once a human loses something like that...they can't be fixed."

All of the femme's movements stopped, she even stopped cycling air. "What?" The shock in her voice was unmistakable. She didn't understand how that could be possible.

"They can't repair her arm. The most they can do for her is get a prosthetic. A fake limb that will serve as more of a prop. So she looks less...conspicuous." He stumbled over his words in trying to keep his grief from touching the surface.

"But...that can't be true!" She tried to sit up again, this time ignoring the pain in her chest to do so. "It can't be! How will she function with one arm?" Her optics fixed the medics in the room with a very pleading look. "Ya can fix 'er, right? Ya can make it alright, can't ya?"

Jolt looked at a complete loss as to what to say or do. He didn't really know how to make it so the femme understood organics and their limitations. He had struggled with it himself for the first Earth year he had been here, seeing all the damaged humans that couldn't be repaired.

Ratchet on the other hand, had vorns of breaking horrible news to 'bots that didn't want to hear it. "I'm sorry, Illusory. Human biology isn't something we can repair."

"Ya have to!" She pleaded, hoping beyond hope that she was misunderstanding all of this and that it wasn't nearly as bad as what she was thinking it was.

"Illusory, humans are extremely adaptable," Scatterblade said, a sudden idea of encouraging words coming to his processor. "They learn how to do it all the time. She will adjust," he soothed.

She looked at Scatterblade, completely uncomprehending what he was trying to tell her. He couldn't possibly be saying that the human would be just fine without her arm – how could that be true? "It can't be real," she stated. "Muh processor...it's messed up...has ta be..." She shook her head a little before trying to get to her feet. "Ah'll go see fer muhself. It's not real."

Ratchet leaped forward to stop her from trying to stand, but she slid past his hand before he could grab her. Her feet touched the ground, but did not provide her with any support.

Scatterblade caught her before she hit the ground, though he did end up buckling his knee. The pretender unit was really taking it out of him. "You're not going anywhere," he grunted, pulling her back to her feet and keeping her steady.

Ratchet and Jolt came around to help the femme back to the berth. They were both very gentle with her, showing more kindness than they probably would have to any of their soldiers.

"Femme," Ratchet scolded softly, "you are in no condition to do anything. Your own repairs are far from complete."

Illusory sat staring at her mangled leg and the near complete lack of armor covering her frame. It seemed to all sink in at that very moment. "It is real, isn't it?" She whispered. "Slag. It is my fault, she must be so angry with me."

"No," the front liner said firmly, maybe a little too firmly, he realized in hind sight. "It's not your fault. She was glad we got to you in time. Charlie's probably more worried about you."

"She is worried about me? She is the one who has lost a limb to my inattentiveness."

He chuckled weakly, "She's strong. And stubborn. I think she's still in shock about it all."

"I want to go see her," she insisted. "I have to at least apologize."

"You can't go anywhere for a while," Ratchet interjected. "You need to let your repair systems do their job. We'll have replacement armor in a few orns, and hopefully quality supplies to finish your base repairs will be available by then too."

"You're keeping me here?" She asked suspiciously.

"As a medical professional keeping a patient that is not healed, nothing more," the medic assured her. "You are not a prisoner, you've done nothing wrong. I simply can't let you wonder off like this; it would be hazardous to your health."

Scatterblade decided to try another tactic with the obviously frazzled femme. "Charlie needs the rest too. I didn't stay because she doesn't need visitors right now. She needs to heal and you do, too."

Illusory looked torn, but eventually gave in. "Very well," she vented. "I suppose a few orns will not matter much." She laid back down with Ratchet's guidance. She seemed loathe to do as the medic told her to do, but had little strength to protest. "I cannot believe an Earth vehicle did this to me," she grumbled.

"Neither did we," Scatterblade chuckled, more tired than amused. "Everyone was running around like you'd been attacked by a Decepticon."

"I would hope that I could have given a Decepticon a little more run for the damage; I did not even see that sparkless thing coming." She vented harshly. "Humans should not be allowed to drive like that, it is irresponsible." The thought of Charlie now missing an arm, and the damage done to herself, made her feel bitter toward the human that had caused the damage. What if others that had been involved? How many humans were wounded beyond repair? Were any of them offlined? How were such conditions even allowed to happen?

Before she could stop it, her processor turned to searching for answers on the human World Wide Web; searching for laws and penalties and how such individuals were to be apprehended. Her already groggy and confused processor was overwhelmed by the rapid download, her hunger for answers only making it worse.

The younger mech vented, "Drunk driving is against the laws the humans have. Punishments for it are pretty severe. Especially when there casualties or injured."

"Why must there be injuries or worse before action is taken?" She grumbled beneath the whine of her processor going into overdrive.

Ratchet vented with annoyance as he rushed to get something to stop the femme's overloading systems. "I see the block has worn off," he mumbled to himself.

"That's not what I meant. They are detained. Then their license is taken from them so that can't drive and ..." he stopped there, thinking it pointless to continue. She wouldn't want to understand right now; Charlie was the 'injury' he was talking about so bluntly and without regard. Scatterblade ignored Ratchet's mumblings.

The medic injected a mild sedative into the femme; it wasn't enough to stop the rapid download, but it was enough to slow it to a pace her systems could handle better. "You should be resting, not stressing yourself," he scolded softly.

Illusory just growled something unintelligible at the mech. "It is not right," she mumbled.

::I know it's not,:: Scatterblade told her through a private comm. ::Get some rest.::

::I do not want rest!:: She snapped in a desperate tone. ::I want to...I have to make it better. I have to fix my mistake.:: She groaned verbally as the sedative took a firmer hold on her. "There will be justice," she warned.

"Hey," he warned back, "you're in no condition do anything for that. I'll let you know all the details as I get them. Right now you need to rest."

The femme gave into the draw of recharge. She needed it greatly and her systems would not help her fight against it. With a final groan of everything settling, her systems went into full recharge.

Ratchet vented wearily as the femme shut down. "Finally," he sagged slightly, as if he felt a huge weight lifted from him.

"They're both so stubborn," Scatterblade shook his head but was unable to keep the grin from his face.

"Maybe that will help them both make it through this." The medic shook his head. "We still have to take care of you; we might as well get started." He waved to another berth that lay open and prepped for the procedure. "Now that I know she is functional, I intend to keep her in light stasis until we can get her back on her feet."

Scatterblade sighed. He had hoped he would get some rest before Ratchet demanded his audience again. However the front liner nodded and did as he was told.

"I am going to put you into light stasis for this to minimize the discomfort. You will be out for about an orn." Jolt was already quietly making himself useful in the background, silent as he had been through all of the recent exchange. It was all beyond him – he felt the same as the femme did for the most part; why did others have to be injured or worse before something was done? At the same time, he was concerned over Illusory's reaction to the human's wounds; what was she going to do?

The younger mech nodded grateful that he would finally be able to recharge.