Optimus woke from recharge to the feeling of someone gently nudging his holoform's shoulder.

"Sir?" a feminine voice softly asked.

Groggily, the Prime forced himself to open his eyes and slowly sit up. He looked at the nurse with tired, half-lidded eyes.

"Yes?" he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair to try to get the fuzziness in his processor to disappear. He vaguely took note that it was almost nine in the morning.

"There's some people here who want to see Mika. We've never seen them before, and they claim to know you."

Optimus was instantly alert. "What do they look like?"

"There was a lady with pink hair, I remember her. And—"

"They are my team," he interrupted, giving a soft sigh as he glanced at my sleeping figure. He hadn't needed to hear anymore. He knew exactly what each member ofTeam Prime's holoforms looked like.

The nurse frowned in confusion. "Your team...?"

Optimus nodded. "Yes. I cannot say any more. All information about my team is classified."

"Oh. Well then, I'll just...send them right on up," she stated in the awkward silence. The Prime merely nodded.

Seconds later, he was left alone in the room once more. He sighed softly and rubbed the back of my bandaged hand with his thumb. A soft smile graced his lips when his gaze flicked over to the stitched up wound along my hairline. It was already healing much more quickly than it normally would for anyone else. With any luck, my abilities would heal my injuries quickly, and I would be able to return home within a week at the most. He hoped, at least. Optimus wasn't certain of exactly how quick the regenerative properties of my abilities were.

Shortly after those thoughts the sound of several approaching footsteps met his ears. He didn't bother with pulling away from me. It didn't matter anymore to keep his love life for the most part secret. He had lost me once; he wasn't about to let go of me again.

"—she's doing alright. It's certainly a miracle that she is healing as fast as she is. We've never seen anything like it. Her organs are already beginning to heal, and she's only been here since last night."

The earlier nurse who had awoken Optimus led his team to the hospital room.

"Here you all are. Refreshments are in the basement if you need them." With that, the nurse left, and almost every member of Team Prime filed into the room.

"Morning, Optimus," Arcee said in her usual neutral tone. The Prime nodded slightly in greeting. He looked at everyone for a moment.

"I did not think you would leave your work, old friend," Optimus subtly teased Ratchet, a slight smirk lifting his lips. The medic grumbled under his breath, and Optimus couldn't hide his soft smile. "I know you care about Mika, however much you may try to hide it."

Ratchet glared at the Prime, but it had no real bite to it. Optimus had to smile just a little more. It was comforting to know that even the gruff medic cared about me.

"Hey, um, Bee?" Smokescreen whispered to the scout. "Why is Optimus holding her hand?"

"Bumblebee cannot speak while using his holoform," Optimus said without looking away from my sleeping figure, hiding a smile. Smokescreen stared at him, half-shocked and half-horrified.

"To answer your question, Smokescreen, I will say this. Mika is very important to me. I am her guardian; she is my charge and my companion. If you wish to know more, I will gladly let you ask Mika once she awakes and arrives safely at base once more."

Standing in the uncomfortable silence, Smokescreen nodded. Bulkhead laughed.

"Lighten up, Smokescreen. Optimus isn't going to bite you."

"Mika, on the other hand... If you make her mad, she just might bite your helm off," Arcee interjected, biting back laughter. She continued moments later after relishing at the horrified look Smokescreen had on his face. "She's very slow to true anger, so for the most part you're fine. But don't try to push her buttons. You don't want to make her angry. If she can kick Decepticon aft, she can certainly kick yours, too."

Optimus smiled from where he sat. It was nice to see his team at ease, now that Mika was safely recovering. The near future looked bright, and his spark soared at the thought of being able to hold me properly once more.

Over the next week and a half, every Autobot took turns visiting me in the hospital. Shockingly, even the gruff medic took time away from his work occasionally to visit. Of course, he would grumble and critique the nurses' and the doctors' work, but that was what he did to pass the time. It certainly wasn't a surprise that he had brought a small human-sized datapad with him so he could still work, and yet still visit me.

During that week and a half, I hadn't woken up once, which was no surprise to the doctors. Since I had first arrived at the hospital, the color had since returned to my skin, my wounds had healed quite drastically, and I was no longer in intensive care. Sadly, my abilities could only heal so much. My missing limbs were still gone, and there was no sign of them returning. In addition, it didn't make scars disappear. In short, I would have scars littering my body as a faint yet constant reminder of the horrors I had to endure in the name of loyalty and love.

A week and a half later was Wheeljack's turn to stay at the hospital for the day. He sat next to the hospital bed in a chair sideways, his back leaning against one armrest, while his legs were draped over the other. His eyes were closed as he mindlessly bided his time. For the most part, he thought to pass the time. Crystal had been on his processor lately. She had told him to expect her random appearances, because she had to continuously deal with family issues. She didn't say specifics, but she assured him that there was nothing to worry about. Still, something didn't seem right to him. Maybe it was just his processor, but she seemed conflicted when she told him, as if she seemed hesitant to vaguely tell him about her family problems. It ate at his spark, and he continuously tried to ignore it in vain. He only told the others when they asked about where she was; if they cared enough, they would ask him, was his philosophy.

He had been at the hospital for almost three hours already, and he was quickly becoming irritated with his boredom and his returning thoughts of Crystal. He didn't deal with either very well, and it had gotten him into trouble in times' past.

"You wouldn't mind waking up anytime soon, would you?" he grunted out to me, his irritation evident in his voice.

A soft sound came from me as I moved slightly. This was a slightly entertaining game the Wrecker had come up with. He had called it, "Let's Talk to the Unconscious Person in Bed and See What Kind of Reactions I Get."

Needless to say, he was that bored.

In addition, he certainly wasn't very good at naming the games he half-heartedly made to keep himself from going insane from boredom.

"Pizza..."

Startled and confused, the Wrecker looked at me. Had I really just said pizza in my sleep?

"You are one strange femme," Wheeljack mumbled, leaning back again and closing his eyes.

"Optimus," I laughed, clutching at my sides. "S-stop it! My sides are splitting!"

The vague, blurry form of Optimus pouted and stopped tickling me. I giggled and poked his cheek.

"You're adorable when you do that, you know."

A fierce blush blossomed across his cheeks, and he embarrassedly looked away from me.

"Hey, don't do that. I meant it." I huffed when he still didn't meet my gaze. I reached up and tenderly placed my hands on his warm cheeks and turned his head to look me in the eyes. I smiled softly at him, my eyes bright. Still blushing, he smiled back. He placed a hand on top of one of my own.

"I love you," I murmured, boldly leaning forward and pecking his lips lightly. They were soft and molded to mine perfectly, I noted, as I pulled away.

Optimus smiled and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his firm chest. "I love you too, Mika. So very much."

His voice lowered to a whisper as he slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of my head, holding it there for several moments before pulling away. He kept me in his arms, and I couldn't resist turning my head slightly, pressing my ear to his chest. I listened to the sound of his heartbeat.

Wait...

...that wasn't the sound of a heartbeat. A heart thumps.

This...this was a humming sound.

He...This man... He isn't human...

What is going on...?

"Is something wrong, Mika?"

My breathing was faster than normal. I looked up at him. I was surprised to notice that the only noticeable features I could see were his eyes.

Optimus watched me anxiously. "Mika?"

Those eyes...

Electric blue...

Why were they glowing?

Why was any of this happening?

A flash of reflected light, and I shakily looked behind Optimus. A red and blue Peterbilt sat off in the near distance. Memories flickered in my mind, and I strained out for them. A towering automaton, standing proudly, the stature of a leader.

Leader...

Leader...of the Autobots...

Autobots...

My family.

My head seemed to split wide open as the floodgates opened in my mind. Dark corners of my mind suddenly came to light, the memories gathered there finally coming back to the forefront of my mind.

"Mika? Mika! MIKA!"

Someone was yelling. No, more than one voice.

"Mika! Stop screaming, slag it!"

That voice... I recognized that voice.

At once, my screams stopped, only to be replaced by half-pained, half-relieved sobs. My eyes opened into slits, and a blurry figure half-loomed over me. Pain split my head in agonizing waves, and I could barely feel the tears that flowed from my eyes.

A dull ache stretched over my entire body. Pain occasionally coursed through my body from various places, but the pain couldn't compare to the agony in my head.

I could barely discern anything that was happening around me. After what seemed like a millennia, I could finally feel the migraine slowly ebb away.

"...should do for now. She did sustain a few concussions, so it's not too much of a surprise that she would have migraines from it. Still, she'll need to have a CAT scan done to see what all is wrong and how we can try to correct it..."

Those were the last words I heard before I feel back unconscious.

When I woke again, the only remnants of my previous migraine was a slight buzzing behind my temples. Soft light shone beyond my eyelids, and a warmth encased my hand. The atmosphere was pleasant, and I was perfectly content to bask in it.

A soft sigh caught my semi-conscious attention. The fogginess in my mind slowly cleared, and eventually I was just awake enough to force my eyes open.

The lighting was soft enough that my eyes didn't smart. My gaze lazily flicked to my side, finding a figure sitting next to my bed. The person's head was bowed, watching my hand, which sat in his hands. My brow furrowed at seeing the bandages wrapped around my hand.

I struggled to command my hand to move. It was as if my body had forgotten how to work and move properly. Panic began to set in, and the repetitive background beeping quickened in response.

Instantly sensing something was amiss, the figure's head snapped up. His short blonde hair was short and messy, strands of hair either pointing in different directions or falling in front of his face. The longest pieces of his hair fell almost half an inch short of his eyebrows.

As my gaze fell just below his eyebrows, I caught sight of his eyes. Glowing electric blue eyes, framed by long, darker lashes than his hair, met my eyes and stopped. He seemed to freeze, his tired eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he stared into my own orbs. My throat went dry as I found myself unable to look away.

The male's voice came out as a slightly hoarse whisper, laced with desperate hope.

"Mika?"

As soon as the word met my ears, the invisible chains around my mind snapped and disintegrated. That voice, and those eyes... My eyes widened as I watched him.

"...O-Optimus...?"

Relief and joy transformed his features once I spoke his name. His eyes grew glassy as a joyous grin split his handsome face.

All at once, he half-loomed over me, and then his arms were carefully around my frame, desperately pulling me to a firm chest. A familiar scent brought tears to my eyes, waves of emotions overcoming me.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, trying to desperately cling onto him. "I'm sorry..."

One of his arms gently tightened around me, while his other hand pressed my head into the crook of his shoulder. He gently shushed me as he rocked my frame.

"It's been too long..." I sobbed into his shoulder, desperately clutching onto him with the rest of my remaining hand, as if I were trying to convince myself that this wasn't a dream.

"I know," he quietly murmured, his voice wavering. Even without looking, I knew he was crying as well.

We spent a long time just like that.