I actually had a hard time with this update. I started this chapter with a burst of inspiration, only to be slammed with schoolwork and finals for three weeks. Yet when I was finally able to come back, it took me two more weeks to find my motivation. So, I couldn't find myself satisfied with this chapter, but I wanted to give you guys one more update for the year.

We are one step closer to the climax of this fanfic. I swear I will make it my New Year's resolution to end this story.

Also I made a slight change to Chapter 7. It does not affect the plot whatsoever, but I only edited to keep continuity.

Lennox paced back and forth in the medical wing, as restless as a lion in the cage. Epps stood beside him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his lips pulled in a frown. It had been several hours since Jack had been handed off to the medical staff. They wasted no time running tests, but Lennox had heard it hadn't gone well. Supposedly Jack had fought every step of the way. A couple times he had even lashed out with his fists. At one point they had to sedate him just to get an MRI scan.

Finally Lennox paused when he saw the base's head physician, Gonzalez, walking towards them. He looked exhausted. The lieutenant colonel stepped forward, meeting him halfway.

"What's his condition, doc?"

"Where do I even start?" Gonzalez groaned, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Well, in good news, it seems the antivenom is taking effect. The swelling has gone down. Jack's breathing and heart rate have stabilized. Although still feverish, his body temperature has decreased…"

The doctor trailed off, looking reluctant. It was Epps that brought up the unspoken word that hung in the air.

"But…?"

Gonzalez's frown deepened. "I'm afraid the damage has already been done."

Lennox's heart clenched at the solemn statement. His arms were folded across his chest and his grip tightened on his own arm. He remembered Jack's look of horror, when the boy couldn't lift himself off the bed. Lennox had seen that look before.

"Neurological?" the lieutenant colonel asked cautiously. There were venomous animals on Earth capable of paralyzing a fully grown human. Did the toxin from an Insecticon have the same effect?

"Actually, no." While Lennox raised a brow in confusion, Gonzalez explained, "He has feeling in his extremities and he says there's no tingling sensation, which tells us there's no damage to his nervous system. However, he appears to have difficulty actually moving. We believe it's likely mass denaturation of protein throughout his body, either caused by prolonged high fever or—" The doctor paused, struggling to find an accurate term, obviously still trying to process the situation. "—the, um… venom."

"Denaturation," Lennox repeated lowly. "You mean…?"

"Jack's muscles have been deteriorated. He has lost 13% of his body weight. He's malnourished and dehydrated. We put him on an IV for now and we'll take it from there."

"Oh, my god," Epps gasped, his eyes widening.

Gonzalez swallowed thickly. "That's not the only thing."

When the NEST soldiers merely stared, the doctor explained cautiously, "We found scar tissue all along the patient's body. There are lacerations along his wrists and across his torso. X-rays revealed that Jack has several fractures that have healed improperly."

Both men gaped. A block of ice formed in Lennox's chest while Epps seethed in rage.

"Damned bastard," he hissed. "Megatron tortured him."

"I… I don't think so. I was a corpsman during the Gulf War. These wounds... they seem more consistent with prisoner of wars."

"MECH," Lennox growled. He clenched his hands into fists, nailing biting his skin. "Goddamn you, Silas."

How could the man be so low? To torture a child? For what? Information? What could Jack possibly tell him? The broken image of the boy morphed into Lennox's precious daughter, Annabeth, at the hands of that madman. Hot fury bubbled up in the father's chest, but he stamped it down just as quickly. No, he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him. He had to stay in control.

Lennox swallowed thickly and sighed through his nose. He forced his voice to sound even as he asked, "Will he recover?"

"Yes, but it will take a long time. He's going to need extensive therapy and recuperation, to increase his muscle mass and recover his motor skills. But quite honestly... I'm more concerned about his mental state."

"I want to see him."

"Well, you say you know him. Perhaps a familiar face will calm him down."

With those solemn words, Gonzalez turned on his heel, leaving Epps and Lennox to exchange uncertain glanced.. They followed the doctor through the winding corridors of the medical wing. It was quieter than Lennox was used to. The hospital at Diego Garcia was always filled with soldiers, usually injured from a training accident or from battle. But the NEST forces posted at Cape Canaveral saw no action, so there was no moans of pain or frantic shouts. At least, until Gonzalez led them through a door.

"Just leave me alone!"

There was a startled cry and a horrible crash. Lennox flinched back, just in time to spare his boots from being splattered by projectile soup. The chunky liquid formed a pool underneath the metal tray, knocked out of the nurse's hands. Jack seethed from the hospital bed, but his glare seemed to be focused on the discarded meal than his wide-eyed audience. Only Gonzalez dared to step forward.

"Jack, what's wrong?" he spoke calmly and lowly, like he was talking to a terrified animal.

The teenager didn't seem to appreciate the tone, bristling at the sight of the doctor and hissing, "Stay away from me!"

"I just want to help—"

"I don't want your help! I want to go home!"

Lennox didn't know how to process the sight before him. This was nothing like the calm, self-assured boy like he knew. Jack's look was feral and his muscles were visibly tense, braced to fight or flight.

Yet he looked so small. The teen's clothes had been replaced with simple green hospital gown which hung loosely from his body. Jack's cheeks were sunken in and there were dark bags under his eyes. His skin was frighteningly pale and his raven-black hair was dull and greasy.

Dear God… what did they do to him?

Jack glared at Gonzalez, like the doctor was holding a knife to his throat. Lennox thought quickly. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Thank you, doctor, we have it from here," he assured.

Gonzalez merely looked at the NEST commander confused, until he blinked with realization. He gave a cut nod and turned to make his leave.

Jack visibly relaxed once the physician was out of sight, his muscles slowly uncoiling. But still tight. Lennox ushered the bewildered nurse out of the room as well and Epps reluctantly followed her. Trying to appear as least frightening as possible, the lieutenant colonel wrapped his fatigue jacket over his pistol and turned slightly so it was out of Jack's sight.

The teen didn't look so violent anymore, at least. Lennox waited until the door clicked closed before he moved forward. He kept his stride slow and controlled as he walked to the chair next to the bed. He dragged it closer to Jack, but made sure to stay out of the boy' personal space.

Lennox swallowed thickly and asked softly, "Are you—"

The man stopped himself. No, Jack wasn't okay. The boy was avoiding looking at him in the eye, instead looking at an interesting spot at the wall. His bony hands wrung together, the only movement he was really capable of.

"Why won't you let me go home?" Jack demanded, as if Lennox had any real choice in the matter.

"You're really weak right now, Jack. You need time to recover."

"Right. Because of Airachnid."

Lennox didn't know it was possible to fill a single name with so much hate. The awkward silence stretched between them, until NEST commander found something else to say.

"Arcee is really worried about you."

It was the truth. The femme had refused to leave her charge's side, that was until Ultra Magnus had ordered her to go to the training grounds. Lennox assumed it was only to keep her distracted. Yet when the Autobot returned only to realize she had missed her partner's awakening, she had gone into a fit. Lennox thought mentioning Arcee would make Jack happy, so he was surprised when the teen only scowled.

"She doesn't care about me."

Lennox blinked at the bitter tone of his words. "Of course she does. She wants to see you—"

"I don't want to talk to her."

The former Ranger only became more confused. He didn't have the chance to see the full extent their relationship, but he always assumed Arcee and Jack were close. Yet he only responded with resentment.

Why?

"How about your mother, then?" Lennox tried. "We can try to get her on the base."

The lieutenant colonel didn't like the idea of inviting a civilian to a military institution, but if it meant—

"No."

"But—"

"I said no!"

Lennox almost flinched at the harsh bark. Jack was trembling now, clawing at the sheets underneath his hands. The NEST commander didn't understand. The teen didn't want to see Arcee or June. That meant Miko and Raf were out of the question.

Was he scared of his own loved ones? Or, was he worried that he would scare them? It was obvious that Jack was traumatized.

I need to gain his trust, but how?

Lennox sighed and looked away in thought. The tray of food Jack had knocked away lay untouched, its contents still splattered across the floor. The pool of soup had grew, spreading the mess even more. It looked like a full meal. Nothing solid, the man noticed, just enough to fill Jack's stomach.

"Why don't you try something to eat?" Lennox suggested lightly.

"I'm not hungry," Jack muttered.

Not hungry? Lennox had seen teenage boys eat three full plates of food in a single sitting, and they weren't even half-starved. Yet Jack hadn't eaten in days.

Lennox wondered if the teenager was just lying. But confronting him about it wasn't going to do any good. The man remembered whenever he went home, he would be so excited to finally see his little Annabelle. Only when he did, the reality of fatherhood would greet him like a slap to the face. The six-year-old was rambunctious and stubborn, just like her mother. Especially when it came to meals.

Lennox sighed and chose his words carefully. He picked the tone he used to negotiate with Annabelle whenever she refused to eat her peas.

"Can you just try?"

"I can't," Jack seethed.

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand. Tell me what is going on." When the boy didn't reply, the man went on, "Jack, you can't survive without eating. Your body needs—"

"Dark energon."

"Pardon?"

"What I need is dark energon," the boy told, his eyes haunted with misery. "I-It's the only thing that I can take. Any food, anything solid, anything organic, I-I can't—"

Jack trailed off with a broken whine and looked away again, thin arms wrapping around his torso. Lennox could only blink and fall back in his chair, staring at the boy before him as he tried to process the words. Did he mean—only dark energon?

The NEST commander remembered Simmons had interrogated Jack months ago, after his initial capture by the Decepticons. The boy reluctantly admitted how Megatron had forced him to consume the noxious energon. During that brief stay, Lennox had watched Jack during dinners. He had stared at his meal with disinterest and each bite was agonizingly slow, as if it was painful to eat. At the time Lennox had assumed it was because of the boy's emotional distress.

Was it a side-effect of the dark energon? But how? From what he gathered from what Perceptor said before, Lennox understood the substance affected Jack's body on a molecular level. Did it somehow alter his physiology? Just the idea sounded absurd.

But then again, a matter of months ago, Lennox believed any contact with energon was a death sentence.

The lieutenant colonel made a decision.

"Alright, then," Lennox murmured.

Without another word, he rose to his feet and left the room.

Lennox waited until he gathered all the Autobots in the main hanger before he told his idea. Only when he finished explaining his plan, his audience erupted in protest.

"Are you insane?" Arcee exclaimed.

"You want to give Jack more dark energon?!" Epps gasped.

"Sounds like a bad idea if you ask me," Simmons drawled in a flat tone.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do," Lennox retorted, feeling several enraged glares boring into him. He turned to Perceptor, who seemed like the only one not bothered. "Didn't you say the dark energon heals him?"

"Indeed," the Autobot scientist confirmed. "The substance is capable of—"

Lennox cut him off before he could start another scientific rant, turning back to explain, "If the dark energon can undo the effects of a deteriorative acid, then maybe it can keep Jack alive."

"We should getting that stuff out of him," Epps argued. "Not jacking him up with it!"

"We did, remember? We flushed all of it from his systems, but we just learned he's just got more of it."

"Because of Megatron," Arcee growled.

"After he tore apart MECH's base to get to Jack. Why?"

"Probably to finish his little science experiment," Epps huffed.

"Maybe." It was a possibly Lennox couldn't rule out. But then— "What if when Megatron captured Jack, he gave him dark energon. To treat him."

Ratchet made a scoff, which sounded like a car backfiring. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "That would suggest that Megatron actually cared for Jack's wellbeing."

"It's a theory," Lennox defended.

"A stupid one," Simmons grumbled, rolling his eyes.

The NEST commander glared at the man over his shoulder, but decided he wasn't worth the time. "That's not the point here. The point is that Jack needs are help."

"And how are we going to get more of the dark stuff?" Epps questioned. "Because I don't think Simmons is going to be able to pull that one out of his pocket."

As if on que, the former Sector Seven agent pulled the pockets of his suit inside out, just to prove they were empty.

"I got nada," he reported with a shrug. "I guess we'll have to order some from Megatron."

"Fortunately that won't be necessary," Perceptor announced, stepping forward to stand over the humans. "I have amassed an adequate stockpile of dark energon."

While Lennox suspected at much, Epps and Simmons stared up at the metal giant as if he had grown a second helm.

"So wait, you just have it lying around?" gasped Epps.

"Well, that's awfully convenient," spat Simmons. "Where did this come from?"

"We kept a storage upon the Ark," Perceptor explained casually. "For research, of course. As well as to keep it out of Decpeticon possession."

"What's the Ark?" Epps asked, squinting in confusion.

Optimus Prime answered that one. "The Ark was the flagship of the Autobot fleet that fled Cybertron, during the Great Exodus. It was designed to sustain an entire army for extended period of time, as we traveled across the stars in search of a new home."

"Another spaceship?" Simmons exclaimed. "And where is that?"

The consultant frantically looked around, even spinning in a circle, as if he was expecting to find the gargantuan spacecraft in the cramped warehouse.

"At the bottom of the ocean," Perceptor answered.

When the humans just stared, Ultra Magnus explained, "When we retreated from Cybertron, we were not aware we were being pursued. The Nemesis engaged us outside of your solar system, heavily damaging our ship. Although the Ark managed to remain functional enough reach your planet, we could not prevent the resulting crash." Suddenly the commander's stoic mask hardened as his optics darkened and he let out a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid… many of us did not survive."

Lennox had heard the story before, yet the Autobots still carried that haunted look when they were reminded of their fallen brethren and how they became stranded on an alien world.

"So Megatron wrecked your ship," Simmons digested, apparently the only thing he took from the story.

"No," Ratchet corrected, shaking his helm. "Megatron had already been in stasis for a long time, after the Harbinger crash-landed in the northern region of your planet, the Artic. It was likely Starscream leading the assault."

"I'm sure the cocky bastard loved that," Epps muttered.

"We have been salvaging parts from the Ark in order to reconstruct a new transport that we call the Xanthium," Ultra Magnus told.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Simmons asked skeptically. "It seems your ships have a lot of bad luck when it comes to Earth."

Lennox groaned at the statement, covering his face with his palm. Ratchet rolled his optics.

"I'm afraid that statement is all too true," the medic agreed bitterly. "But this project is currently our only hope to reconnect with the rest of our forces scattered across the galaxy."

"While Jack's only 'hope' is swimming with the fishies."

"Actually, no," Perceptor retorted. "We managed to recover the dark energon from the wreckage."

Simmons blinked at that. It took him a few seconds, but he shrugged off his surprise and muttered, "Shame. Here I was thinking I was going for a swim."

It was Arcee's turn to scoff, rolling her optics and placing her servo on her hip. She still didn't look convinced.

"And how are we so sure that it's dark energon that Jack really needs?"

"Well, I suppose there is only one way to test that theory," Perceptor replied.

Arcee glared at the scientist.

"You… can do it, right?" Lennox asked hesitantly.

"Why, of course. In fact, dark energon can be processed just as easily as pure energon."

"Then I guess we have it."

Still, the lieutenant colonel looked up to Optimus, silently waiting for permission. Although he acted as field commander, the human had no authority over the Autobots ranks. It was the Prime that made the final decision.

Lennox could practically hear the gears turning the Optimus's helm as he considered the options that were laid out before him. Indulge in the Blood of Unicron, which was told to bring chaos upon the universe? The very substance that Megatron had turned into a weapon? Was committing a sin worth saving a single human's life? Jack's life? Did one outweigh the other?

After a long time, Optimus Prime sighed.

"Proceed, Perceptor."

"Optimus, you can't be serious," Arcee gasped, her optics brightening even more.

"It is a choice we do not, Arcee," the Autobot leader replied, turning to face his subordinate. "If Jack's well-being is in jeopardy, then we must act now."

Arcee didn't bother to hide her disgust and disapproval, but she offered no more argument. However, seeing that torn look in her optics, Lennox wondered if she too wondered if she could really risk Jack's life.

"I shall start the processing immediately," Perceptor announced, already turning on his heel and lumbering out of the hangar.

The tension in the air only seemed to thicken, each individual shifting their weight and looking at the other. It was one of the few times in Lennox's life that he pondered if he made the right decision.

Lennox wasn't really sure how processing energon was done, exactly. He knew Cybertronians couldn't readily consume energon in its crystallized state, so they found a way to convert it to a liquid substance. Free of contamination and everything. However, the process took a long time. It was several hours until Perceptor returned to the hanger, an energon cube in his servos.

But rather than the cool, cerulean light Lennox was used to seeing, the cube was illuminated with a sickly, ominous violet glow.

Wings went up and armored plating rattled uncomfortably. Even the humans frowned at the sight. Perceptor seemed oblivious to the solemn atmosphere, setting the cube onto the ground.

"Here we are," he called, like he wasn't delivering an energy source of evil.

"That doesn't look like a lot," Epps commented, eyeing the half-full container.

"For a Cybertronian, this is less than a single dosage. However, considering your species is significantly smaller than ours, this should suffice as several for a single human."

"And you're just going to inject him with it?" Arcee questioned with distaste.

"Actually, that's not what Jack said," Lennox recalled.

Both eyes and optics widened as his audience registered his meaning.

"Wait, you're going to make him drink that stuff?" Epps gasped.

"He said it's the only thing he can keep down."

"Ugh, I'm going to sick."

With that disgusted gag, the sergeant turned away and covered his face. Arcee and Simmons looked like they wanted to do the same. Optimus Prime and Ratchet merely watched with nervous curiosity, while Ultra Magnus had already long fled the room, under the guise of practicing drills with the other Autobots.

Lennox was the only one that dared to approach the wicked energon. The unnatural color made his stomach churn, but he made himself step close enough to feel the energy pouring off of it. He expected it to have the same effect as pure energon—making his hair stand on end as his skin tingled uncomfortably. But instead, the power of dark energon felt… warm.

Was this what Jack was attracted to?

The lieutenant colonel swallowed thickly, realizing what he had to do.

"You don't have a cup by any chance, do you?" he asked awkwardly.

It was actually Simmons that offered his own, yet when he handed it to Lennox, the former Ranger frowned.

"Chick-fil-a, really?" he drawled.

"What? You prefer Popeye's?" the former agent retorted sarcastically.

"No, that's not—oh, never mind."

Deciding beggars couldn't be choosers, Lennox accepted the Styrofoam cup. It was a process all in itself to transfer the dark energon from the massive glass cube to the tiny eight ounce container, but they managed to do it without spilling a single drop. Not wasting anymore time, Lennox headed back to the clinic.

There was no room in the cramped hallways for the Autobots to accompany him, so they were left to anxiously wait. Epps had no interest in joining. Simmons, on the other hand, wanted to see the event for himself, but Lennox refused. He didn't want to make Jack more distressed than he already was.

There were several curious looks as Lennox traveled down the hallways, and those that noticed that his cup was glowing stared for even longer. The NEST commander gave the door to Jack's room a respectful knock. He didn't receive a reply, but he didn't wait for one.

Jack curled underneath the thin sheets of the hospital bed, unmoving. At first it looked like he was asleep, but then the ex-Ranger noticed the teen's eyes were wide open, blankly staring at the wall. Lennox had to ignore the uncomfortable tightness of his chest

"I have something for you," he offered as he cautiously stepped forward.

Jack slowly blinked away his lifeless gaze. "Hmm?"

He looked over his shoulder at Lennox, curious more than anything. He squinted at the Chic-fil-a cup in confusion, even as he struggled to shift his weight. Deciding to have pity on him, Lennox took Jack's hand and gently pulled him into a sitting position. He adjusted the pillow behind the boy, wrapping his broad arm around his shoulders to guide Jack back to the mattress. Once situated, the teenager eyed the container, only to gasp as he saw the purple light that escaped the translucent cap.

"Where did you—"

"Will this work?" Lennox asked hesitantly.

He held it out, only to feel torn. The man still wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. But what choice did he have?

Jack stared a moment more before he slowly, cautiously wrapped his fingers around the cup and took it with both hands. Lennox wasn't truly certain what to expect, but he felt uneasy as Jack only continued to hold the container, staring at the dark energon sloshing within.

"Is… something wrong?" Lennox inquired.

"Um, no, not really," Jack replied, blinking as if he was coming out of a trance. "It's… it's just… that I've only drank it from Megatron. I guess I just got used to it."

It was Lennox's turn to squint in confusion, watching as Jack guzzled down the Blood of Chaos Bringer.

Explosions surrounded Jack, sending fire and debris in all directions. Armored bodies moved beside him, letting battle cries and pained shouts. Cybertronians? No, they were too asymmetrical. Organic.

Humans. Rangers.

The special operation soldiers fired at the faceless figures that moved through the smoke like ghosts. Drones? No, there were no wings, no tires, no claws.

It was MECH.

And they were winning.

Bullets tore into the Rangers' bodies, grenades tore them apart, and knives sliced into their flesh. They let out dying screams, some begging for mercy that never came. One by one, the Rangers fell.

"Jack!"

That voice. Jack knew that voice.

"Dad?" he called out into the chaos.

"Jack!"

"Dad! I'm coming!"

Without a second thought, the army brat ran as fast he could. His father was in trouble! He needed help! He needed him!

Jack pushed his way through the mass of flailing bodies. He climbed over lifeless corpses. He sprinted through volley of gunfire. He ignored it all. He had to find Dad!

Suddenly the thick smoke drifted away… to reveal a solid wall.

Jack skidded to a halt but before he slammed into it face-first. He turned, only to find another black, unmoving wall. Then another. And another.

Surrounding him. Trapping him. Caging him.

Silas laughed.

Jack whirled around to find the terrorist leader standing there. Pistol in hand. Silas's lips were pulled back in a wide, sadistic sneer as he slowly neared the army brat. Like a predator stalking towards its prey. The teenager scrambled backwards, to run, to escape.

Only for his back to slam against the wall.

"You are mine," Silas purred, looming over his prisoner.

Jack think he tried to bolt. Suddenly merciless hands wrapped around Jack's throat, squeezing. He gasped, clawing at Silas's grip. But his hold was like iron, keeping him from ever escaping.

Then there was a clap of thunder, so loud that Jack flinched.

But there was no pain.

"Jack!"

"D-Dad?"

Silas was gone. Instead, Johnathan Darby stood over him with that warm, loving smile of a father.

Suddenly the walls keeping Jack imprisoned were gone. There were no more sounds of gunfire, no more sounds of death. There was no more war.

Only a son and his father.

Dad extended his arms as if to give Jack a hug. "Come on, son."

Jack smiled. Dad was here now. Everything would be okay. He would always protect him.

Then Johnathan gasped.

Jack's eyes widened horror, locking onto the silver blade projecting through from the man's chest. Blood trickled from the corners of Dad's mouth and his eyes glazed over, even as the father whispered the army brat's name one last time.

"Jack…"

"NO!"

Jack leaped to his feet, to rush to his father's aid, but it was too late. Johnathan's body was shoved to the ground as a silver, titanic figure took his place.

Megatron's fangs were coated blood as he gave a twisted grin. His violet optics glowed brilliantly in the darkness. The Decepticon would take what rightfully belonged to him.

"MINE!"

Claws lashed out, to tear out Jack's heart, to keep it for his own—

"Jack! Jesus Christ, wake up!"

Jack let out a scream as he jolted awake. Glaring light blinded him and a wave of disorientation washed over him. His eyes darted around the strange room, trying to recognize his surroundings. Suddenly, light eyes and a stern face filled his vision.

Dad?

The teen's vision focused and he remembered where he was. Jack recognized the figure with disappointment.

"It's alright," Lennox cooed at him gently. "It's just a dream."

Was it? It felt so real… Jack could still feel the heat of the flames against his face. He could still hear the Rangers' dying screams. He could still his father, with that—

The army brat flinched as the graphic image flashed before his vision, of Megatron's broad sword skewering Dad's dead. Lennox moved forward at his action, only to paused as Jack snapped, "I'm fine."

The NEST commander must have sensed the tone, because he wisely moved out of the boy's personal space. Jack used to the newfound air to breathe, trying to refill his lungs. A coat of sweat had formed over his skin, even though he was shivering madly. The teenager shut his eyes, trying to repeat Lennox's words in his mind, over and over like a mantra.

It's just a dream. It's just a dream. It's just another goddamned dream.

Silence hung in the air for several minutes, filled only with the sounds of Jack's shuddering pants.

Then Lennox spoke, "How long have you been having these nightmares?"

"Everyone has nightmares."

"Jack." Somehow Lennox manage to fill his name with indisputable authority, like a parent scolding a child. The man even fixed him with the same sort of look. "How long?"

Jack swallowed thickly. He avoided eye contact, but he could still feel like lieutenant colonel's stare boring into him, waiting. The teenager wondered if this was an interrogation tactic or something Lennox learned as a parent. Probably both.

Finally Jack sighed, "For a while now."

"Have you told anyone?"

"No."

Except Megatron, of course.

"Have you considered it?"

"What difference would it make?"

"Well… it might be good to talk to someone," Lennox suggested lightly. "There are people that can help."

The army brat almost immediately realized what the man was insinuating. He bristled.

"I'm not crazy," Jack snapped.

"I didn't say you were." Lennox's spoke in a soft, gentle tone. "Jack, you've been through a lot. Sometimes that stuff stays in your head, and sometimes the only way to get rid of it is to let it out."

"Trust me, sitting in a chair talking to a stiff doesn't fix anything."

Jack would know. After his father's death, June Darby had noticed her son's grieving had turned into depression. She sent him to a therapist, telling him the same thing, that he needed to talk. But talking didn't bring his father back.

"The army has people trained to work with soldiers. Prisoners of war," Lennox pressed on anyway. "I went to a psychologist. So did your father."

"It still won't change what happened," Jack huffed, still not convinced.

"No," Lennox agreed. "But can you learn how to… cope."

The brat gritted his teeth, raising his voice into a shout, "And what am I supposed to say? What MECH did to me? How they tortured me? Those bastards tore me apart. They beat me, over and over, day after day! And they laughed!" Jack began trembling as Marcus's sadistic cackle echoed in his ears, even as he screamed for mercy. He couldn't keep the tremor from his voice as it weakened into a whimper. "Y-you have no idea how much I wished I could just give them what they wanted. Just so they would stop. But… I didn't know what."

Jack wasn't aware tears escaped from his eyes, trailing down his flushed cheeks. "How would someone even believe me? How do I not sound crazy, saying a giant spider-bot from another planet tried to kill me? And I know—I know the Decepticons are liars, but… but I can't get Airachnid's voice out of my head. A-And I wish she would just leave!"

The army brat ended with a pained cry. He slammed hands into his head, as if to knock the image of her terrible optics from his mind. But it was no use.

Like a pest, Airachnid had wormed underneath his skin and buried into his flesh. She had already destroyed his body. And now she poisoned his mind.

But Airachnid was not the only one that haunted his dreams. She was not the only one that sought to control him. Silas would stop at nothing to achieve his perfect world and Jack would be his tool.

And Megatron…

Lennox watched him, lips pulled into a deep frown. Then, finally, he nodded slowly, almost as if in approval.

"That's a start."

I added some more worldbuilding in this chapter, describing how the Autobots and Decepticons came to be stranded on Earth. I was originally planning to dedicate an entire chapter to it, but I simply didn't have enough material to work with, without interrupting the flow of the story.

As for Jack and Lennox's conversation, by no means am I mocking or discouraging treatment for mental health. In fact, as a psychology minor, I hope to do the opposite. In this story, the character that needs therapy will actually get therapy. But, I do like relating my stories to real life, and it is not uncommon for people to initially refuse treatment for various reasons.

But it nothing to be ashamed of. All of us are affected by mental illness in some way, and it is okay to talk about it. I have loved ones and I myself have been personally affected by mental illness. I understand not everyone may have the opportunity, but please, if you can, reach out, and I promise you that you will find someone that will listen.