"No!" Nathan screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. His heart shattered as he watched my limp, unmoving body.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I couldn't die, not like this.

Silence filled the air, both at the base and at the warehouse. Kramer was completely still, his sadistic grin frozen on his face. Seconds later, (though it felt like eons), he finally leaned to the side, and the soldier's guns trained on him instantly.

He arm fell, his gun clattering to the floor. He kept leaning to one side, before finally losing his balance and toppling over, crumpling to the ground. His lifeless, dull eyes stayed open, staring blankly into space.

Where Kramer once was stood a figure, his smoking gun still pointing to where Kramer's head once was.

"No one's gunna take this gal's life taday," Dennis growled as he put away his pistol while the rescue team forced the MECH soldiers to surrender.

Over an hour later, my unconscious body was hurriedly ushered into the emergency room at the nearest hospital. Dennis stood nearby with Fowler, a sober look on his face.

"I didn't think you were on the rescue team," William said lowly.

Dennis crossed his large arms and sighed. "Ah wasn't. 'Is a long story," he said, his eyes flicking over their surroundings out of habit. Recognition crossed his face as he glanced down a hall, and he uncrossed his arms. "'Scuse meh," he said distractedly to Fowler as he walked away towards the figure racing down the hall.

"Orion!"

The Prime's holoform raced down the hallway towards Dennis, Fowler, and the emergency room doors.

"Orion!" Dennis reached out and grabbed the Prime's arm in a vise-like grip in an effort to stop him.

"Let me go," Optimus growled, his icy eyes burning into Dennis's brown orbs.

"Woah, 'old up there, mate. Ya can't jus' walk in there." Dennis's gaze softened in understanding. "Ah know how ya feel; ah'd be doin' th' same thang 'f it were mah girl. But ya can't jus' go in there, not yit. 'Ey're still tryin' ta stabilize 'er." His voice lowered from the gravity of the situation.

Optimus pulled his arm out of Dennis's grip. His processor went back to the baseball game he had attended with me and the others who had opted to come along. His anger worsened the more he thought about it. "You may have saved her life, but I no longer trust you. You spoke of nothing about your involvement in this nation's government when we first met." The Prime's gravely voice, filled with suppressed rage, matched his smoldering eyes.

"An' ya didn't speak 'f who ya really are, Optimus," the other male said quietly.

Optimus's reaction was instantaneous. Fear, shock, and hatred burned his core as his fist instinctively collided with Dennis's nose. A shout of pain, followed by a few curses came from the Southern male as he held his nose, backing away from the Prime.

"Break it up, you two!" Fowler roared, forcing himself between the two males and holding them apart. Optimus's chest heaved as he watched Dennis with hardened eyes. Dennis himself was doubled over, clutching his nose as he tried to stop the constant bleeding.

"Optimus, snap out of it! He isn't your enemy! He's one of my men, one of the handful of people who know all about you guys. His assignment was to help keep your existence unknown to the public. When I found out that Mika was missing, he— ugh, forget it! My point is, he's the reason why we finally found her." Fowler's frustrated scowl was directed towards the Prime.

For several moments, Optimus's furious gaze held. After the words registered, the conflict flickering in his eyes caused Fowler to relax, but only slightly. After a solid minute, the Prime forced himself to close his eyes and breathe in deeply. It didn't go unnoticed that his holoform's intakes were shaky and slightly irregular. He pinched the bridge of his nose out of habit as he sighed.

"Forgive me. I am naturally overprotective, and have been under a tremendous amount of stress as of late," he eventually murmured, his eyes opening while he held out a hand to Dennis. The other male hesitated for a brief moment before accepting the invitation.

"How is she?" Optimus asked lowly, his ice blue eyes flicking back and forth between Dennis and William.

It was then that the two other males noticed just how exhausted the Prime looked. It was a shock that he could still function properly. The skin under the holoform's eyes was dark, and his eyes themselves were bloodshot. Had they looked closer, they would have noticed that the glow from the holoform's irises was dull, turning the color to a steely grey-blue.

Dennis sighed heavily as he gingerly pinched his nose. Fowler reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of travel tissues and handed it to Dennis, who accepted it graciously.

"Th' gal's not 'n great c'ndition," the Southern male said somberly, his voice distorted by his plugged nose. "We're not outta th' clear yet."

It was several hours later before they finally cleared me from the ER. From there, I was moved to Intensive Care. With pained, horrified eyes, Optimus watched as I was carted away on a hospital bed, unconscious.

"I'm afraid we won't be able to visit for a while. Patients in intensive care have very limited visitors, and it's mostly reserved for family members only," Fowler said, turning away.

"I must see her," Optimus said with narrowed eyes, "if only for a moment. I must see that she will be fine."

"I'm sorry, Optimus, but it's not my call to make. This is out of my league. If you want to see Mika, you'll have to talk to the nurses at the desk." The retired Army Ranger glanced at the Autobot's holoform with an almost pitying look.

Optimus looked as if he were about to pass out from exhaustion. Pity for the Prime bubbled in his heart; he could only imagine what he had gone through in the last couple months, not knowing where I was, or how I fared, or even if I was still alive...

It wasn't something that Optimus was able to bear easily in the last two months.

Dennis and William watched as Optimus swiftly strode to the desk, manned by nurses, before they briefly glanced at each other.

"We should get going. We finished what we came to do," Fowler said lowly.

"But wut 'bout Mika?" Dennis asked, his voice still nasally as he ripped off a sizable portion of a tissue and plugged one nostril with it, then tearing off another piece and doing the same to the other.

"We've done what we can for now, Dennis. We can visit her later."

Dennis frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Ah don' like th' thought ov leavin' 'er unprotected," he told the other male in a low voice.

Fowler looked to where Optimus stood at the desk, talking with the nurses. "I don't think she'll be in any danger. Not when Optimus is nearby."

Frustrated was a nice word to describe how Optimus felt at the moment.

Almost enraged was more like it.

The oh-so-friendly nurses had repeatedly told him that he could not visit because he was not family. He had tried convincing them many times, but every single time, they had given him a fake smile and politely denied his request to see me.

He was almost, almost glad that Ratchet had contacted him, saying that there was Decepticon activity at a new energon mine. Almost, because that meant he would have to leave me with no one I knew at the hospital; but truth to be told, he simply didn't want to leave my side. However, he knew that he had to attend to his duties, and with a heavy, conflicted sigh, he had left the hospital, consciously denying his overwhelming desire to see me again.

He left the hospital with a heavy spark, and when he commed for a groundbridge, it hadn't changed. Seeing the familiar faces of his Autobots on the other side calmed his spark slightly, but the heavy weight on it didn't lift. It almost felt as if a part of him was left at the hospital, causing his spark to ache painfully within its protective chamber.

The anxious faces of the rest of his team watched him as he changed forms, the metal of his body contorting from the Peterbilt to his towering bipedal form. His dulled, yet somehow still piercing optics met other crystalline ones.

"Is she okay?" Arcee asked anxiously.

Optimus heavily sighed. "She is alive, but in critical condition. I cannot see her at this time. Visitation is reserved for family at the moment."

"But we are her family!" Bulkhead interjected.

"Related family, Bulk," Arcee said sadly. "The only person I know of is Nathan. I'll go contact him."

"Speaking of which, why isn't he here?" Ratchet asked, crossing his arms with a huff. "I'd think he would be here, since he's always so protective of her."

"He went to his house. He said he was getting something, but I'm not sure what," Arcee told him. "Give me a moment. I'll tell him the news."

She stepped a little ways from the rest of the team, tapping her comm link once and holding her slender digits there. Moments later, the connection completed, and Nathan's exhausted voice came through.

"Hello?" he asked, sighing heavily. At the other end of the connection, Nathan ran his fingers through his short hair tiredly.

"Hey. It's me," the female motorcycle said quietly.

" 'Cee? What're you calling for?" Nathan's voice sounded increasingly distressed, and Arcee quickly spoke.

"Nothing's wrong. Mika's at the hospital now. Optimus said you can visit her now."

A huff came from the other end. "Figures he'd visit before me," he mumbled under his breath, but Arcee caught it.

"He hasn't. He can't visit her; only family can visit her at the moment," the blue femme interjected. "Do you want me to pick you up and take you there?"

Moments passed before a heavy sigh eventually came from the older brother. "Yeah. I'd rather not get arrested by driving at ninety miles on the interstate."

A quiet laugh came from the motorcycle. "I think we all feel similarly. We've all grown quite attached, even Hatchet."

Someone behind her snorted, then a resounding clang! echoed off the walls. Arcee glanced over her shoulder and found Bulkhead rubbing his helm. On the floor lay a Cybertronian-sized wrench.

"Well, Ratchet's throwing wrenches, so he's not bothered at all," she snickered in amusement, and said medic raised another wrench and pointed it threateningly at the motorcycle.

"I may be gruff and harsh, but I'm not emotionless." His voice was raised as his narrowed optics met Arcee's. A disapproving frown mirrored his optics as he watched the blue femme, who just rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the human she had been previously conversing with.

"I'll be there to pick you up in a couple minutes, Nathan," she promised.

"See you then, 'Cee."

Moments later, the connection severed, and Arcee let her servo fall to her side as she turned to the rest of the team. "I'll be back soon."

When Nathan closed and locked his front door, all was silent outside. The only sounds that broke up the silence were the bugs that preferred night over day. He pulled his jacket onto his frame, zipping it up and pulling the hood over his head. Feeling his wallet in his back pocket, he sighed softly, allowing himself to lean against the siding of the small front porch. In one arm was the motorcycle helmet he had bought for himself. He gripped the plain plastic bag in his other hand tighter as he waited.

Before long, a familiar motorcycle rolled down the street and slowly pulled into his driveway. He pushed himself away from the wall of the porch and made his way to the Autobot in disguise.

"Thanks for offering to take me." His voice was quiet as he regarded Arcee.

"It's no problem. I figured you could use the company on the drive," she replied. She turned her front wheel towards him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed as he pulled on the helmet, pulling off his hood before doing so. "It's just been a long two months."

"You know you can always talk to me if you need to vent."

Nathan huffed. "I'm fine, okay? I just need to see my baby sister."

Both were silent as Nathan climbed on. He unzipped his jacket just enough to shove the plastic bag in it before zipping it back up. He firmly held the handle grips, and kept his balance as Arcee pulled out of the driveway and began to drive down the road.

It wasn't until several minutes later that Arcee spoke.

"You haven't been talking to me as much lately." Nathan didn't respond for several moments as the wind roared around them.

"I'm a male, Arcee. I don't talk about my problems to other people normally. That's how guys normally work."

"Well, I'm telling you that maybe you should overcome some of that pride and talk to me, okay? I know how it feels when you think you're going to lose someone you care about. I lost two partners in this war. I had to go through it alone; I don't want the same for you."

"Well, thanks for the concern, but I told you, I'm fine."

"Nathan."

"Arcee, don't—"

"Listen to me. I'm not asking you to talk to me about your problems. I am telling you that you are. I'm not giving you a choice, and if you don't talk about it to me, I will not stop until you do."

Arcee left it at that, and no words were spoken after her statement.

The duo arrived at the hospital over an hour later, since MECH's base was so far away and the rescue team had ushered me to the nearest hospital. Nathan hurriedly got off the cleverly disguised motorcycle once she parked.

"Call me if you need anything," Arcee said in a stern voice. "And tell your sister I said hello."

"I will," Nathan said, nodding slightly with a grim look.

Slightly satisfied, the femme flashed her headlights briefly at him in acknowledgement before activating her holoform. She looked at the brother for a moment, before sighing and pulling out of the parking space and driving off.

Nathan's emotions pulled at his heart, but he pushed them aside and hurried to the doors of the hospital in the post-midnight darkness.

By the time he reached the main doors, he had retrieved the bag from the inside of his jacket, now hanging loosely from his hand as he pushed open the doors. He hurriedly made his way to the front desk, immediately catching the attention of the female attendant at the desk.

"Hello. Are you here to visit someone?" The lady politely asked, her hazel eyes meeting his'. Nathan nodded, resting his hands on the edge of the desk.

"Yes, I'm here to see Mika Reiki. She's my sister."

The woman began to type into the computer in front of her. "And what is your name?" she asked without looking up.

"Nathan Reiki." She furiously typed at her computer for several moments, then scrolled through pages on the screen. Finally, she gave a clucking sound with her tongue and looked at him.

"Well, it looks like your good to go. Your sister is in room 5149."

"Thanks," Nathan said, turning to walk away, but the woman's voice stopped him.

"You do know what happened to your sister, don't you?"

Nathan slowed to a stop but didn't turn. His gaze never left the floor as he gripped the bag in his hand tighter.

"Yes," he whispered, "I do."

The elevator he took to the fifth floor seemed to take forever. He fidgeted restlessly, causing the older male standing beside him to keep glancing at him with an understanding frown. When the doors finally opened to the fifth floor, Nathan practically leaped out. His heart pounding, he looked at the number plates on the walls that directed people to the correct hallways. After looking a few over, he hurried down one long hallway, then turned to the right when the hallway branched off to the left and right.

"5142...43..." He counted as he passed the rooms, his heart in his throat. "44...45...46..."

My voice called out to him in a desperate call, and his heart stopped at my plea.

"Nathan..."

The male hurried faster, the metallic plates beside each door almost a blur.

47...48...

49.

He skidded to a stop. He could no longer hear my voice. Beyond the open door was a half-lit room, the curtain around a hospital bed drawn for privacy.

"Mika?" He asked quietly, hesitantly stepping into the room. Silence only met his questioning statement, and Nathan could both feel and hear the pounding of his heart within his ears. He glanced to his right, his gaze finding an empty, unused hospital bed shrouded in darkness. A lump formed in the brother's throat. I had to spend my time here by myself; not even another patient was in my hospital room to keep me company.

He turned his attention back to the hospital bed blocked from view by a curtain. Beyond the curtain, a soft glow from a side lamp cast shadows on the floor and the curtains, causing an eerie, almost desolate aura that permeated the very air he breathed.

He moved closer, finding the end of the curtain brushing against the wall.

Nathan stopped just short of the curtain. With a deep, shuddering breath, he gathered his courage. His hand moved on its own, reaching out towards the curtain and gently grasping the coarse fabric. With a final mental push, he threw back the curtain.

A cross between a sigh of relief and a gasp of horror escaped the older sibling. He couldn't see most of my mangled body, but what he could see tore his heart apart.

Clumps of hair was missing from my once vibrant copper-brown hair, the strands now a greasy dull black. When Nathan shifted, he caught a glimpse of dark threads, and as he looked closer, he realized there were stitches holding a gash along my hairline closed. Bruises discolored the skin of my face, slightly swollen around the bruises. My lips were horridly chapped and split open in several places. A highly moisturized gel coated my lips thickly in an effort to help heal my lips faster. My nose was covered by a white strip, signifying that my nose had been broken and the hospital staff had taken steps to fix it. My jaw, thankfully, had been rejoined to its socket, but the discoloration around my jaw made it obvious what had happened. To my brother's horror, dark bruises dotted my throat from where hands had grasped my throat and squeezed with brute strength.

Nathan nearly lost his stomach again once he saw my arms. The lower half of my left arm was gone completely, severed at the elbow. Clean bandages wrapped the stump of the leftover appendage, hiding most of the horrific sight from view. My left shoulder was bandaged from e bullet wound I had sustained during my rescue. Covered in gaping wounds that had been stitched closed, my right arm was a brutal sight, and seeing the stitches alone made Nathan's stomach churn. My right hand, or what was left of it, was mostly wrapped in bandages as well, the wrappings covering the stubs of the fingers I had lost. He knew that I had sustained more injuries that his eyes couldn't see at the moment, which made his heart grieve all the more.

"Mika," he breathed, his eyes glistening as he hurried to the side of the bed. His hands reached out automatically and he gently grasped the one hand I had left and held it. He watched my sleeping face as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he hoarsely sobbed, bending his head down to press the back of my bandaged hand to his forehead. "I'm so sorry. I'm such a terrible brother, I never should have let you go!"

His grieved sobs softly echoed off the off-white walls as his heart broke. His sister, his little, baby sister, was the one lying in that hospital bed.

Nathan had never felt more defeated or useless in his entire life.