Thank you guys so much for reading! I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave a review cus im a review whore lol XD Writing Cogman and Burton is like...so much fun omg. I'm so happy to finally add them to the story XD

N.E.S.T didn't follow. I knew Lennox was smart enough to take my threat seriously.

Maybe it was the concussion, but driving was hell. My head throbbed and my mouth throbbed. I felt as if I'd been through a blender, and I was clutching the steering wheel so hard that it was beginning to dent.

I had no idea where I was going. No sense of what I wanted to do. My mind was still in a constant loop, replaying Monique's death and Marshall's death and Douglas and Epps. I was so, very lost, and night had fallen far quicker than I'd expected it to. I stopped at a rest area devoid of any life so I could vomit, before slinking into the backseat of the truck and draping myself across the old cushions.

I cried.

I don't know how long I cried. Hours, probably. Deep sobs that racketed my entire body. The pounding in my head increased until I either passed out or fell asleep. I didn't know.

"Optimus…."

"Dearspark."

My mech was floating in space. I couldn't see it, but I could feel the weightlessness of the frame, and the coldness. The moment my mind made a connection I could feel the warmth of his spark, a stark contrast to the rest of his body.

"You are hurt, my love. I can feel it."

"Everything went to shit after you left. It's not your fault. I'm a bad leader, and people died because of me," I said hollowly. "The world needs you, Optimus. I need you."

"Rachel, do not give up on yourself."

"I'm not giving up on myself. I'm giving up on this world," I drawled. "Bad things are going to happen, no matter how hard you try. No matter how much hope or faith you have."

"It was hope and faith that brought you to me," Optimus replied. "And it is what will bring me back to you."

"Ever the poet," I felt myself smile. "I love you, Optimus. Don't leave me."

"I will never leave you, dearspark—"

I was jolted awake. The ceiling of my car was far to high and ornate. The lights were far to bright, and the clothes I wore were different, no longer bloody and smell anesthetic wafted across my nostrils, and it was taking a moment for my eyes to adjust.

I did, however, noticed someone moving in front of my vision.

"There, there. Can you see these?

What the fuck?

"Miss? Miss? How many fingers am I holding up? If — bloody hell, Cogman, stop breathing down my ear!"

Thats a lot of British.

Something brushed against my foot and that was when I shot up. A chair toppled and an accented voice cursed, before a robot hand forced me back down onto the bed. By now I could make out my surroundings — bookcases lined the walls to my left, and the room was covered in painting and brick. It was massive, the sheer size making me realize that, no, I probably wasn't where I needed to be.

Or are you?

"Please, Miss, calm down before you further injure yourself—"

"Touch me again and I'll fucking rip your face off," I spat. The metal hand instantly lifted from my chest and I shot back up, whipping my head around before realizing that the movement hurt.

The human-sized robot standing by the bed looked startled, but ready to leap into action. The old human man behind him was watching the exchange with his eyebrows raised, tapping the cane that he held in his hand lightly against the floor.

"I understand that this is a lot to take in," the robot said slowly. "But rest assured we have your best interest at heart. We mean absolutely no harm."

"You," I pointed to the old man, my brain struggling to form words. I spoke in fractured sentences, trying to articulate exactly what I was going to say. "British. Uh, fuck. Edmund Burton?"

"The one and only. Just as you know me, I know you. In fact, I have been searching for you," Burton nodded, smiling. "I hope you don't find that too strange. Cogman here has been tracking you for quite some time."

Cogman perked up at the sound of his name. Boldly, he said, "I found you approximately two days ago unconscious in your vehicle. I administered proper medical care and promptly took you to here, to England."

"You were, quite frankly, fucked up," Burton cringed. "Pardon the language. But you survived, although I'm curious as to how you received your injuries in the first place. It was certainly much more than a bad tumble down the stairs, I assume?"

"I was fighting a Decepticon," I said dully. "I won. It kicked my ass but I won."

"A story for another day, perhaps. Now that you're awake and somewhat alert, you're probably wondering why I brought you here. Why I've been searching for you, all this time," Burton stepped forward, taking Cogman's position at my bedside. "It's simply because, like you, I want to fight."

I snorted. "Yeah, see, whatever I was fighting for? I've given that up."

"My vision says otherwise," Burton replied. "And whether or not you want to fight does not matter, because soon, you won't have a choice."

"Your vision?"

"I am a future-seer," Burton pulled up a chair, grunting as he eased down. "And what I see always comes true. I typically allow events to play out and don't stress myself over them, but this I cannot ignore. Our world is in danger, Rachel."

"When is it not?"

"It is in danger," Burton stressed, hissing the last syllable. "And this time, we will not be enslaved. We will be destroyed."

"And…you want me to do what? Stop it? Okay, listen," I clapped my hands together, steadying my breathing. "Like, five seconds before your boy Cogman picked me up, I got an entire family brutally murdered. I couldn't save four people. I sure as hell can't save the goddamn planet. You know who can? Optimus fucking Prime. And you know where he is? Nobody fucking knows."

There were tears in my eyes. I refused to look at Burton, or Cogman for that matter. My lips were quivering and I was desperately trying to hold myself together.

"Do you truly think such a task can be accomplished alone?" Burton said softly. "While my visions are accurate, they are vague. And with vagueness comes uncertainty, but that does not compromise its validity. I see a team. A Knight and their comrades facing off against a great adversary. The adversary will fall."

"Okay, well, I'm not a Knight or whatever. Or a comrade. I'm nobody," I snapped. "I'm staying as far away from this doomsday shit as I can because I. Am. Not. Worthy. Do you understand?"

The end of Burton's cane hit the floor, hard. The sudden burst of energy from the older man startled me, and I fell silent as he analyzed me with dark, calculating eyes. I saw Cogman turn his head away as, angrily, Burton said, "You have no idea what's at stake, girl."

I replied with an equal amount of venom. "Did you stop and think that, maybe, just maybe, your 'vision' was wrong? Maybe you're just old and senile and your mind is playing tricks on you, huh? This team you want to put together, it's just a dream of yours."

Burton's lips curled back over his teeth. After a long pause he seemed to compose himself, letting out a shaky breath and gesturing to Cogman, curtly adding, "Cogman, bring her the talisman."

"Are you certain?" Cogman said softly, shooting me a less than friendly look. "The girl obviously has no desire to work with us—"

"Bring it, Cogman," Burton snapped. The butler alien simply nodded, disappearing from the room.

I took a moment to steady my breathing, glancing at Burton from the corner of my eye. He was still sitting, head tilted to the side. At this point, I felt that I had to say something. "I'm sorry for…being so rude. I'm sorry. You saved me, and I'm grateful."

"No apology necessary. Your reluctance is understandable, considering that you have gone through great hardships. I can see it on your face — I saw it on your body. The scars," Burton glanced down sheepishly. "Not that I looked intentionally. I just noticed…" Burton trailed off as Cogman stomped back into the room. "This might help change your mind."

The talisman fit into the entirety of my palm, its surface rough and made of ancient iron. The swirling patterns and unrecognizable text had me distracted, and I tilted my head before glancing back up, startled to find Burton and Cogman both starting at me intensely.

"What?" I asked, switching the talisman to my opposite hand. Burton sunk back a little, seeming upset. Cogman placed a hand on his shoulder.

"The talisman should respond to its rightful owner. How it responds is something we don't know. Do not give up hope — she still could be the one."

"I suppose so," Burton said, though he didn't seem convinced. I held the talisman, glancing around in confusion. Burton noticed this and explained, "Only a rightful Knight can claim the talisman."

"You thought I was this...Knight?" I snorted. "I told you from the beginning. I'm not a Knight. I'm some freak Sector Seven cooked up in a lab."

"Ah. So you visited Seymour Simmons are learned your — our — history."

"Yeah," I ducked my head, clenching the talisman, unsure of what to do with the dead piece of metal. "He told me about the others. You probably already know where they all are. Well, where one is. It's just three of us, now."

"A shame," Cogman said sadly, and Burton nodded.

"Such is life. Some rise, others fall," Burton replied sadly. "Well, if your mind is made up, I supposed we should be getting you home."

"I'd like that," I smiled weakly.

"Maybe sometime you'll be able to see the countryside. It's quite lovely," Edmund Burton said. "It's where my visions are most clear."

"I'm glad you have a happy place."

"You should find one. Might benefit you in the future. I say 'might' because I don't know — visions aren't that specific."

"My happy place is with Optimus Prime," I murmured, running my fingers across the talisman. "But that's gone, for now," I glanced up at Burton. "What about Optimus. Do you see him in all of this, safe? Home?"

"I saw him, but he is not the same," Burton said softly. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say."

"Whatever he's going up against out there, it won't win," I murmured. "I know it can't. You won't need a team, Burton. Whatever is out there, Optimus can defeat it. He can win."

Burton smiled, but there was something else in his gaze.

"I hope you're right, because if not, it could mean the imminent destruction of everything we know, and love."

I kept the talisman in my bag, making sure it was secure as I stepped off the plane and onto land. I'd rested a majority of the plane ride, still nursing my injuries. Cogman had been in the cockpit, steering the massive jet across the water and towards home.

"Keep the talisman close," Cogman said, standing at the bottom of the stairs. His rigid composure had yet to break, and his words were clipped. He still didn't trust me, I knew, but I had not the time or energy to care. He added sharply, "If you need us, do not contact us. We will come to you."

"Your old man is keeping an eye on us?" I raised my eyebrows. "What's his other power, huh?"

"My masters abilities are none of your concern."

"You're salty that I insulted him, aren't you?"

"I am not 'salty.' I am simply exasperated at how you refuse to see the bigger picture. Such exasperation can be remedied by you returning back to London, but I see that your mind has already been made up. So I won't bother trying."

"It's for your own good," I replied. "Cogman, seriously. You don't want me anywhere near any sort of…off mission or whatever. Not if you want to stay alive. I'll keep the talisman, okay? See if it does its thing or whatever."

"And if it does?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "We find out when we find out. Don't rush fate."

Cogman huffed, turning back and stomping back up the stairs. I watched the plane take off, hair blowing in the wake of its powerful engine. No more than ten minutes later, I heard the familiar buzz of a fighter drone.

"You do not look well," Drift steered the fighter until it was an inch off the ground. He gestured to my battered face, grimacing. "Rough travels?"

"You have no idea."

I slid into the drone, letting out a long breath as we skimmed just above the tall trees. It took me half an hour to realize that we had yet to hit open water, and I sat up, craning my neck so I could yell at Drift over the wind.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere much better than that dirty old ship," Drift replied. "Trust me. You will like it."

In a difference universe, an old car junkyard would have been much, much worse than an old ship. But it wasn't. The place was sprawling, the centerpiece consisting of an old auto shop that, from a distance, looked in disrepair. But the closer we got the more I could see — lights from within, several energon detectors on the border.

Crosshairs, Hound, and Bumblebee were waiting. The moment I landed, I made a start towards Bumblebee out of sheer relief that he was alive, safe, and standing before me with no missing pieces.

"Hey, little lady!"

Bumblebee gently bopped his finger against my nose, which I wrinkled with amusement.

"I'd ask for a hug, but I don't want fluids all over me," Crosshairs said. Noticing my injuries his lips curled and he said, "Who hit you?"

"It's no big deal," I waved him away. "I'll tell you later."

"Do I need to bust some skulls?" Hound asked casually. "Cause I've been wanting to bust some skulls. It's been a drag around here lately."

"I'm fine, guys. I promise," I smiled up at Hound, who shrugged and lumbered off to where he'd cleared some space and was cleaning his massive supply of guns. I watched, smirking, before a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Do you like the place? It was all fixed up when we found it, minus the tunnels the Dinobots put in."

"Cade?" I breathed, a smile splitting my features in two. I leaped and embraced the man, careful not to squeeze to hard. "Cade. Holy shit!"

"It's good to see you," Cade pulled away, keeping a hand on my shoulder. Absently I placed my palm against his chest, feeling until I felt the jagged rise of skin near his shoulder. "Tessa says hello."

"Tessa," I murmured, blinking several times before removing my hand. "Shit. Where is she? What happened with Joyce? How are you—"

"Hey, slow down," Cade stopped me. "Tessa is fine. She's safe. She couldn't come because she's not a fugitive like you or me. And I'm fine — my shoulder is fine. It's all good."

I hugged Cade again. This time, he held me for a long while before I was able to muster the strength to pull away. I said calmly, "I've had one hell of a week."

"Hound told me that you went off alone," Cade furrowed his brows. "Do I even want to know why the hell you decided to do that? You could have at least waited for me."

"You're jealous that I went on a super-secret mission all alone and didn't invite you? C'mon now, don't turn into Crosshairs."

"No, I just…don't want you getting hurt," Cade ran fingers through his hair. "Prime would beat my ass if I let something happen to you. Hell, I'd beat my own ass if I let something happen to you."

"I think we've both taken several years worth of physical punishment, trust me," I said. Cade led me towards the auto shop, opening the sliding glass doors and adjusting the curtains that had, from the looks of it, been pulled from a thrift store. I took a seat at the table, a bit relieved to finally have furniture my size. I could hear Bumblebee and Crosshairs arguing outside, along with the clang of Hound's guns as he cleaned. Drift, I assumed, was meditating.

It reminded me of home. Back when they'd been human.

"You doing okay?" Cade rummaged through the fridge for a beer. He offered me one, but I declined. "I know Optimus left. Bee told me."

"I'm doing okay. It's strange because we…we're," I coughed, steeling myself. "We're sparkbonded. It's like marriage, but, deeper. I can feel him. Linking with him is easier than anything else, now. I know he's alive. I'd feel it if something happened."

"He'll come back. I believe in him," Cade smiled softly. His expression changed to something somber. "Something else is wrong."

I told Cade about Simmons, then about Izzy and Epps before finally revealing my meeting with Burton. The moment I finished, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from my chest and my eyes were wet with tears, mainly out of frustration and anger.

"I'm done fighting, Cade," I sighed. "I want to just…stay. Stay and wait for Optimus because thats all I can do. I don't want any more people to die. No more."

"You think that man and his family died because of you?" Cade said incredulously. "You can't put that on yourself."

"They were after me. The Decepticons. If I hadn't had stayed with Epps, they would still be alive—"

"Rachel," Cade said crisply. "You can't give up. You can't. All you can do is try. The Decepticons could have found them, anyway. They could have killed them all and then left. But you were there, and you fought, and you killed that thing. Kept it from hurting anyone else. You did good."

Cade reached out and squeezed my hand. I returned the gesture, rather weakly saying, "I just can't…I can't lose anyone else."

"You won't. You're here, and you're safe. That's all that matters," Cade pressed his lips into a thin line, glancing towards the doorway. "You need to get some rest. You're tired."

"I'll try," I rolled my sore shoulders, standing up and leaving Cade as he sipped his drink, head ducked. I grabbed a blanket , and went to where Strafe was nestled near the exit, wings spread, blanketing the small area in shade. I absently scratched beneath his chin, before moving on to a jealous Grimlock.

"I think you're his human, Rachel," Crosshairs commented. "He won't give any of us the time of the day."

"He'll learn how to share," I smiled, before limping towards one of the old, disemboweled cars.

I wasn't halfway there when Crosshairs, checking to make sure everyone else was occupied, lowered his voice and said, "Now, we wouldn't want Prime's mate catching a cold, now would we? You can sleep in my cab, if you wish. Just make sure you don't drool everywhere."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised. The look on my face must have given away my answer, for Crosshairs transformed and opened his door. After brief hesitation, I shook my head and slid inside and into the back seats.

"I won't drool. I'm surprised you're taking that risk, though."

"I'm just as surprised and you are, fleshy, but you are…worthy. Plus, you're in need of comfort, I guess," Crosshairs replied, voice echoing around the interior of his alternate mode. "So I'm here. Comforting you."

"You're doing great."

My reply didn't seem to be enough for Crosshairs. He vented, before adding, "I hope I can measure up to Optimus. I know I'm not your mate like him but I'm damn sure the closest thing."

"You feel bad for me?" I rested my head against the cushioned seats. "Crosshairs, you know that you can be honest with me. You don't have to hide. You don't."

Crosshairs didn't reply for a long stretch of silence. Then, in a rather pained voice, he said, "I hate that I still want to be around you. It makes me sick. You're human. And Prime chose you."

"Crosshairs—"

"I've never had a mate. Not for long. Most femmes wouldn't pay me any mind," Crosshairs continued rather bitterly. "But you did. I've come to terms with it — with you — but it's still a load of slag!"

"I'm sorry. That's all I can say," I replied softly. It was all I could say. Nothing else impactful came to mind. I couldn't try and appease him without betraying Optimus, I knew.

"Eh, it's not your fault. It's on me for being so utterly foolish," Crosshairs replied. "The more I realize how compatible you and Prime are, the easier it gets to accept that this was all fate. And I don't even believe in fate!"

"Fate does good things and bad things. It depends on what you believe to be good or bad," I replied wistfully. "I wasn't for you. Maybe that's a good thing because someone else will come along."

"You and your poetics. With each passing cycle you're turning more and more into Optimus. I don't know whether to be amazed or horrified."

I chuckled, closing my eyes. The warmth of Crosshairs' interior was comforting, putting me more at ease. Slowly and sleepily I murmured, "You've always liked the poetics."

"I have. But only from you," Crosshairs replied rather wistfully. "But don't tell anyone I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me."