THANK YOU and LOTS of LOVE to my faithful reviewers: SunnySidesofBlue, CaMaRoFaN14, Kimmie98, and quasarsmom, Jovianokami, DarkSirocco, and Morrigayn DeWyvern!

AN: There's a little surprise at the end. Hopefully no one will see it coming.

Let me know what you think. I have FOUR votes for continuation and 1 to end it with a small epilogue.

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"Primus," a soft male voice said upon entering the room in the medical ward. "Who did this to you?"

The femme twitched at the tone, but forced herself to remain immobile. She recognized the voice of her mentor. A part of her felt ashamed at having him to witness her at her most vulnerable, but another part reminded her that he was a professional, and that his assistance was undoubtedly needed.

"They destroyed my optical relays when they overpowered me," she admitted, hating the feeling of being so exposed. "I'm guessing to protect their identities and to keep me from bringing the Security Response to their doorstep."

"It's just…. " he trailed off, unable to properly voice his sorrow and repulsion to what was displayed before him.

Graying transfluid pooled between her legs, her valve releasing the fluid as it lost its charge. He felt relieved upon seeing the discharge, knowing its release meant she hadn't been forced into a spark merge. If she had, there was a chance she could have sparked.

"It's bad," she said, more as a statement of fact than a question. She took a shuddering intake and added, "Rehabilitation is out of the question. I want a new upgrade."

"Upgrade?" the voice asked in surprise. "Surely after all you went through to obtain this frame, not only the cost, but the painful reformatting procedures, you would want to keep it."

"It's…. no longer suitable," she said after a moment's hesitation.

"Nothing that repair and replacement won't fix," he said, hoping to change the femmes mind. In reality, the frame was suited to her. It had been designed by the best couture specialist in the region. The delicate instruments all medics required to install in their systems were perfectly balanced in the finely tuned frame, and she carried their burden with a professional grace he would never possess. His frame was bulky, blocky, and scarred white, typical for those in the medical profession.

"Take too long," she said flatly, though she knew it wouldn't take as long as she implied. "I'd rather just start fresh. Less of a hassle."

Knowing he wouldn't change the femme's mind, he gave a slow nod, though she couldn't see it. He sighed in resignation and said, "Very well. If that's what you want to do."

"It is," she said softly, one optic gave a weak flicker, as if already mourning its passing. She was never going to be that weak again. That was a vow she intended to keep. "I wish to reformat into a mech."

"Mech?" he asked in surprise. That was certainly NOT what was going through his processor as he ran through possible frame types for his best student.

"I no longer wish to keep a femme frame," she said, wanting so badly to purge her tanks at the thought of changing into a frame that modeled her attacker. "If I'm to perform my job, I need a frame that can't easily be overpowered. I need something strong, sturdy, able to fend off an attack."

His cool purple optics traveled over the torn femme body, taking in the damage, his diagnostics showing copious amounts of transfluid and energon. Dents and scrapes covered the majority of her body, and fluids pooled around her lower regions. He hated to admit it, but she had a point. The femme frame was very nice to look at, and many preferred the pleasure from a value to a spike, but the design didn't offer much by way of protection and defense. Over half of the population was modified for their various jobs and could easily overcome the smaller frame.

"I want you to do the transfer," she said, turning her sightless optics to him.

He halted his answer, taking in the battered face, once so beautiful and round and full of hope. Now it was destroyed, not only physically, but emotionally as well. The fire in her optics that always shone so bright while she worked, the passion and determination that seemed unfathomable, shining from the depths of her very soul as she strived to be the best, surpassing all of her colleagues and even a few of her professors.

All of it, now gone.

Destroyed by a monster that snuffed out the light. Who couldn't see its brilliance, nor witness the wonder and majesty of an artist at work, healing the wounded with the gentlest of care. All of that had faded, been erased. The destruction of such a life was inexcusable, and for a brief moment, the doctor wished he could find the one responsible and inflict the worst possible damage. Their torment would mean nothing compared to the life they had taken while they sated their lust.

"You have been my best student," he said slowly, taking the small hand in his own, and feeling his spark skip a beat when her hand recoiled from his touch. "I would be honored to assist you."

"Thank you," she said in a soft voice. "I would trust no one else."

"When do you wish to begin?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"As soon as you are able," she said, finding courage to give his hand a squeeze of reassurance.

A sad, faint smile graced his face for a moment, finding her inner strength to be unexpected and completely overwhelming. The little femme, soon to be mech, was going to make an excellent healer one day. The tragedy she endured would forever haunt her, but her willingness to help others would help her to survive the ordeal. There were reserves of strength buried so deep in her spark, the medic had a feeling she could persevere through anything.

"I will clear my schedule," he said, holding her hand protectively in his own. He wanted to touch her face and tell her how proud he was and overcome by her strength, dedication and passion. But he knew he could never express such emotions, especially not while she was in such a vulnerable state. Perhaps one day he would be able to tell her how he felt, but until that time, he would have to make due with helping her to complete her medical training. A part of him knew he would be in awe of her work, and that it was a matter of time before the medical profession would realize the treasure that guarded their lives so vehemently.

"Thank you," she said, her voice becoming distant as her shut down protocols activated.

"Nothing but the best for my favorite student," he smiled, his spark fluttering in hopeless defeat as she powered down in complete trust, placing herself in his hands without hesitation. "You'll get through this, I promise."

He gently brushed his fingers across her busted cheek, feeling something inside of himself wither and die, mourning for the opportunities lost.

"You will always be the best, no matter what frame you take," he said to her motionless form. "No one will be able to take that away from you, Ratchet."

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Well, what did you expect?

Want just an epilogue or shall I write Part Two?

So far, FOUR people have expressed interest in continuing this story. And I need at least TEN responses because I have a lot of other things on my plate right now .

I'm thinking that maybe it wasn't as well received, considering the hits to review ratio. And I was serious when I said that I would like critique, because I'm always trying to improve.

IF I get enough responses, I'll post the first part as an Epilogue here, then the full story as a stand alone piece. Not sure how long it will be, seeing how I'm flying blind, and it depends on how detailed the readers want the story to develop.

Which will it be?

Cast your vote….