Welcome one and all to Act II: Re(dis)cover. Arcee is back with the Autobots, Starscream is out of luck, and everyone is heading for a bumpy, bumpy ride. Strap in.

Oh, and that road that Arcee and Starscream were on? None other than State Route 375: Extraterrestrial Road.

Warnings: none.

[~]

The guy who put his hands on you
Has got nothing to do with me
And the bruises that you feel will heal
And I hope you'll come around
'Cause we're missing you

And you used to speak so easy
Now you're afraid to talk to me
It's like walking with the wounded
Carrying that weight way too far
The concrete pulled you down so hard
Out there with the wounded

Missing you

Well, I never claimed to understand what happens after dark
But my fingers catch sparks at the thought of touching you
When you're wounded

~ "Wounded," Third Eye Blind

[~]

Chapter XXVI: The Faces of People You Missed

She cried long and hard for quite some time; letting each tear flow from her optics freely was such a cathartic release it only spurred on more.

Bumblebee immediately threw his arms around her, holding her so tight that it could have crushed her plating. Ratchet had to pry him off of her just to run a full body scan.

Arcee looked around, dazed and in awe, at the place she thought she would never see again. It had barely changed, thank Primus.

"After all this time…who knew that a miracle like this would happen?" Ratchet handed her a glass nearly overflowing with energon. She took it and downed the liquid in nanokliks. Arcee had gotten so used to the more refined version Starscream would give her it tasted bland. But she didn't care—this is how energon should taste.

The glass was taken from her and set aside. She had countless questions she wanted to ask it was hard to narrow down just one. Arcee was sure that they had just as many.

"How long have I been gone?" The words were bitter in her mouth—there was a part of her that didn't want to know. But she needed to.

With only the slightest hint of hesitation, Optimus responded, "You've been missing for five lunar cycles, Arcee."

Five months. He took five months from me.

She shook her head in stunned disbelief and extended an arm to her dearly missed medic.

Her weapons were re-enabled; she snapped both arms back and smiled when the familiar blades showed themselves after so long. Ratchet even removed that damned device that Starscream had put in the hollow of her back. It was such a relief to know that it was gone for good.

Bulkhead lay a large servo on her carefully, a soothing, grounding gesture she appreciated beyond words, "So how did you get out of there? Did you have to scrap a few 'Cons just to make it?"

"I…" she didn't know how to tell them. How could she? "I found a secret compartment near the door and ran to where I thought the closest GroundBridge control was. Starscream…he was able to follow me. If you didn't open a bridge in time, then—"

She cut herself off. No way in the Pit was she going to go down that line of thought. Just thinking about what could have happened if a single second was off. The sheer fact that everything worked out was as Ratchet said: a miracle.

And Bulkhead continued, "but he did. Ratchet pulled through like he always does and helped you get back right where you belong. Oh, man. When Jack hears about this he's gonna probably faint. When should we tell them?"

"Not now. We'll tell them tomorrow. Right now I need to run a few more tests and check your vitals. No stone can go unturned, as they say."

A surge of discomfort went through her. She knew deep down that eventually they would find out, but not now. Not when they were reunited and happy. "No. Just—let me rest. I went through a lot and I'm just glad to be here. Please?"

Ratchet looked to Optimus, who nodded. "Very well. But afterwards it would be wise to allow Ratchet to examine you further."

She exhaled and thanked him. Bumblebee said, {I'll walk you back to your quarters, if you don't mind. Everything's just the way you left it.}

Primus, he was such a sweetspark; how could she say no? They walked together for the first time in lunar cycles, him at her right side and staring at her enraptured, as if she were a specter that would disappear should he even blink. Arcee was moved by it.

He even waited until she was safe inside before walking off, and that was only after he checked to see if she needed anything else. She was alone, but she was alone where it mattered.

Arcee nearly burst into tears again.

For the first time in so long she could truly relax. She was home, with no threat of her former 'master' waltzing through the door and having his way with her. Even if she did feel like she'd left something worthy behind (and you know why, don't kid yourself), she couldn't deny just how wonderful it felt to be back.

Arcee marveled at the plainness of her quarters— no fancy washroom, no desk, no closet or mirror. It was basic and unadorned and perfect. She stretched on her berth, the bare cot that she had missed so much, and reveled in the calm.

With a sense of security that she had almost forgotten she made herself comfortable on the cot, offlined her optics let one final thought pass her mind.

I'm home, Cliff. I'm finally home.

[~]

Summer vacation was ending in a week, a fact that brought out a long sigh from his lips. Jack opened his window and let the warm breeze pour in as he marveled at just how fast it had gone; might as well make every single day count.

He could see what Sierra was up to, maybe meet her at the ice cream place and then hit a movie. It was pretty hot outside, so swimming at the public pool might be a good idea. Then again, it might be packed due to the heat.

Suddenly his phone went off. It might be her, for all he knew. In his head Jack prepared the text: the greeting, the suggestions, the asking if she had any ideas.

However, nothing could have gotten him ready for what he read.

-Arcee is home. She's alive and well and recovering. Bumblebee will stop by later to pick you up-

The sound that came out of his mouth was not human. It was so loud and shrill that in mere seconds his poor mother rushed into his room, hair still wet from her shower and clutching her bathrobe closed, "Jack! Jesus, what's the matter? What's wrong?"

He pointed to his phone and made a stream of incoherent, excited noises. She shook her head rapidly and held up a hand. "Calm down! I can't make out what you're saying."

A few deep breaths later he calmed down enough to say, coherently this time, "Arcee's back, mom! They found her! She's okay!"

Her jaw dropped and let out a laugh, "Oh, my god! Are you kidding?"

"No, it's real! I can't believe it!

"Oh, Jack. That's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you. Are you going to text them back?"

"Of course I am. I just don't know what to say!"

She laughed, "Say whatever you feel. It might not be poetic, but it'll be something. If you'll excuse me, I've got to get dressed."

With a quick wave his mother dashed off. His fingers danced over the small keyboard and sent his message: -That's amazing! I can't wait to see her again.-

She's alive. It was like a dream come true. He paced around his room excitedly, thinking about the things he'd want to say to her, thought nothing seemed to truly express how happy, how grateful he was that his partner had seemingly come back from the dead—

And then the fact came crashing down on him.

She was alive. This whole damn time she was alive. When he yelled at Miko, quit helping the Autobots, debated on whether or not to go back, when he eventually did.

Starscream really had been lying.

What could he possibly do to erase his actions? They weren't criminal, not by a long shot, but the guilt was coming through the joy. Would an apology count? He could start there, maybe.

But his thoughts were cut short as the phone rang loudly It was Miko. He hit the answer button and grinned at hearing her enthusiasm.

She shrieked out, "Did you see it?! Did you?! Did you?! I knew it! We all knew it!"

"I know! I can't even think straight right now."

"Neither can I!" Then, her voice became distant and muffled. It took him a bit to realize that she was talking to her host parents. "Sorry about that. James and Mary were wondering why I was so loud. But yeah! We're gonna see her today! This is like the greatest thing ever!"

Jack eased himself onto the bed, head tilted back in bliss, "Mostly because it is."

He knew what he was going to do: celebrate this unprecedented victory and never look away.

[~]

The drive over might as well had lasted hours; everything seemed to be slowing them down, from the insistent stoplights all the way to the incredible lengthening road. No, really—when was the route to the base this long?

And when it was just them and no one else, with the windows down and excitement roaring through their veins, it seemed that nothing could ruin this happy occasion.

Like clockwork the base doors opened, Bumblebee parked, they rushed out, and almost fainted at what they saw.

There she was: lying down on a medical berth, Ratchet right next to her with a data pad in hand. Their collective hearts could have jumped out of their chests from the joy. She lifted her head and smiled at them widely.

At the sight of them Arcee quickly sat upright, ignoring Ratchet's yelps of worry. "Primus, I've missed you all!"

Miko squealed and was the first to rush forward, "Arcee! Holy crap, it's so good to see you again! And you're all in one piece, too! How did you escape? Did you stab Starscream in the throat and then beat your way off the Nemesis? Did you crash the ship into the Atlantic? Please tell me you put a bomb in Megatron's Spark chamber."

"Easy, easy. Don't pound her with question," Ratchet waved her off as he helped Arcee to her pedes.

She turned her head towards the young girl and half smiled, "Unfortunately, Miko, there was no violence to be had. I found a way out, ran to the nearest control panel and hightailed it out of there. "

With a casual shrug Miko said, "Eh, it didn't matter, anyway. There's plenty of time for payback."

Bumblebee turned to Bulkhead and {Well, this just proves that we shouldn't take everything Starscream says to Spark. He'll say anything.}

"I never believed him, not once," Bulkhead huffed. "Everything he said was full of it. The next time I find that walking scraphead I'll give him a beating so good he'll forget how to fly."

"Ooh! Let me get a crack at him, too! Don't forget to let Wheeljack get a few—"

"Wait." Arcee's tanks went cold. "What did he tell you?"

Bulkhead waved her off, "It doesn't matter anymore, 'Cee. It was a bunch of nothing that meant nothing."

"What. Did. He. Tell. You."

Her optics darted around and wordlessly demanded anyone of them to speak up. She needed answers and she needed them now.

Optimus stepped forward and elaborated, "It was some time ago, when we were out scouting for energon. Starscream said that you were with him as his…violated you to his Sparks' content, made you want him…and then killed you. His testimony was unreliable, and so we did everything we could to try and bring you back. But our search seemed to be futile, and there seemed to be no way to prove or discredit Starscream."

Arcee let it sink in. It wasn't the most pleasant of revelations, but Optimus was nothing if not honest.

"I, I see," she said, at first with somber acknowledgement, but as she remembered all that she had went through, the horrendous experience that she wouldn't dare want to relive again, her tone grew resentful. "So that's why you never came. Thanks for having some faith in me, by the way. Is that all it takes now?— just a few twisted words out of Starscream's mouth and you give up?!"

"Arcee. Please understand that it wasn't—"

"Please understand what?!" She shook from the force of her anger as every word burned though her. "No, you all understand something: while you were all going about your petty little lives like I never existed, I was being raped. You want to know what he did to me? Allow me to enlighten you all. He put me in cuffs whenever he didn't use me, for hours and hours on end until I couldn't feel my servos or pedes. He put a collar on me, made me into an obedient spark slave whenever he wanted me to stroke his ego. Whenever I was being 'difficult' he would use a paralyzer on me—I was trapped in my own body! I nearly was snuffed because of how rough he would be. I was tortured in so many ways that I don't even want to relive. Do you want me to go on? Because trust me, there's no end to what I had to endure."

The entire base became so quiet that she could hear her own energon run through her veins. The ire was ebbing away quickly and replaced with self-revulsion. They stared at her, some with gaping mouths and, trembling fists, but all of them horrified by what she had said.

No no no.

Jack…poor Jack…his hand covered his mouth in shock and his eyes swam with tears.

They were all so happy to have her back, and here she was blaming them for something they couldn't help, or had any control over. The Nemesis had the finest cloaking system in the galaxy—of course they would have problems finding her.

Ashamed and infuriated at herself, Arcee turned away and buried her face in her servos.

"I'm sorry. I'm—I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, I know it's not." Her voice cracked and faded, defeat crashing over her.

"Is there anything we can do to help? Anything at all?" Raf sounded so broken, like wound reopened, and she couldn't take it.

"Go. Just—go away. I can't stand you seeing me like this."

Arcee rushed passed them, ignoring a keening sob that must have come from either Miko or Jack. She didn't look back once, she just kept running until she reached the door to her quarters.

She sluggishly lay down on the cool cot and sobbed until she no longer could.

[~]

Arcee took one final look at the calendar clock on the wall near her berth—never again would she go through a timeless void—before sitting up and staring and her trembling palms.

She was going to make it up to all of them. Her outburst may have come from a place of frustration, but it was no excuse. It was humiliating and made the bile burn the back of her throat. Starscream caused this pain, and she was going to heal from it. They all were.

Every part of her frame was going to be taken back until he was just a memory. A raw, painful memory, but a memory nonetheless.

Her right servo settled on her left leg, gliding the tips of her digits across pink, blue and black metal and took in every single detail and imperfection. Arcee did the same to her right and then made her way to her waist.

This is my frame. Mine. Not his.

Each crevice and dip was retread, her fingers reclaiming what had been stolen from her. Her abdomen was chastely caressed, as if to expunge the traces of his talons. She wasn't ready to touch her breastplate yet. Later.

She outlined her neck, lingering on the place where he bit down and broke the metal. She shuddered but pushed forward, cupping her face, gliding against the abused lip plates, optic ridges and fringe. Mine, mine, mine.

And finally, with as much courage as she could, Arcee placed both servos on her breastplate, taking it all in until she could feel her Spark beating triumphantly.

He was never going to touch her again. Ever. She would rather snuff herself than let that happen.

But should she ever dare, then he, too, would be extinguished with her. In nonexistence they would still be together.

She was bonded to him; their Sparks mixed and swirled with one another, creating something new and different yet so familiar and overwhelmingly warm.

Arcee recalled how bonding was described by her mother and father: wonderful, blissful, a rebirth, a paradigm shift, a fusion of everything that makes up you and them. They made it sound so wonderful, and if it had been with someone she truly loved, then she would have agreed.

But not like this. Not with him.

Bonded or not, she was still herself. She'd scratch and fight it for the rest of her function.

And that all started right now.