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"You better be joking Lennox," I say lowly, my eyes daggers.

We're on the new base in Nevada.

"I'm deadly serious Shadow. If you want in on this lead, you need to take a psychological test," replies Lennox unfazed.

"It's a waste of time," I huff with folded arms.

"It's mandatory. Everyone has to take one especially after being wounded. I'm going to have to take one too," says Lennox like he's on my side.

"What's the lead anyway? How did you get one?" I ask curious.

"It's actually your lead," admits Lennox.

I look at him quizzically but I don't say anything.

"Before the base was took over by Decepticreeps, you was telling me about some people who could be suspects. You didn't get a proper chance to look into these people but I did," answers Lennox.

"But I took the print out paper with me after saying I'll do this myself. I didn't want help," I comment suspiciously.

"Yeah. I choose not to listen to you and help you out anyway. I had Maggie look into it while we've been here. I didn't need to look at the print out because I was looking over your shoulder when you was typing the names, remember?" explains Lennox.

"Which name?" I ask with high interest feeling hungry for the lead.

Lennox grins at me in a highly annoying smug way.

"I'll tell you after you take the psychological test," says Lennox knowing it will give me incentive to take the test.

"Fine,"I reluctantly agree.

I'll do the stupid test and then I'll get my lead.

I'm starting to get a headache again, only this time Lennox is the cause.

"I took the test and passed. I don't see why you're complaining," I say non flippantly.

"You got a perfect score," states Lennox.

"So what's the problem?" I ask in return.

"It's too perfect! You cheated the test," accuses Lennox.

"You said I had to take the test, you never said I had to be honest in it. I took it now what's the lead?" I ask impatiently.

"Test isn't over yet. The final test is in there. Answer honestly this time or our deal is off the table," threats Lennox with a no nonsense tone, nudging his head towards the direction of the metal door to my left.

I growl but I don't say anything and I walk towards it.

I walk in to see a woman in a white doctors coat, with a green jumper and and black trousers underneath. She has her brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She looks around her late 30's. She puts on a smile trying to appear friendly to me.

"Miss Sedis, please take a seat," says the woman, her green eyes glued to me with a British accent, she gestures to the seat opposite her with a table in between us.

What? No couch? Shame, I wanted to fall asleep while she talked on. I take the seat as suggested. From the moment I walk in, I put my neutral mask on and I'm determined not to let it slip for even a moment.

"I'm Doctor Alison and I want to assure you that anything we talk about is confidential and will remain between us, Miss Sedis," says Dr Alison professionally.

"Shadow," I correct.

"Ah yes. I take it you prefer the name, Shadow. Why two names? Violet Sedis and Shadow? Why give yourself a new name?" questions Dr Alison.

"I didn't," I state keeping my face blank.

"Excuse me?" asks Dr Alison confused, a frown on her face confused.

"I didn't give myself the name Shadow," I expand.

She writes on her notepad quickly.

"Interesting…. Is Shadow an altar ego? A voice inside you?" questions Dr Alison curiously, almost greedily.

"Perhaps a split personality?" she questions further.

Such an idiot. Jumping to conclusions. Lennox wants to waste my time with this?

"No. I didn't choose the name Shadow because it was given to me through my reputation," I answer honestly.

I refrain from crossing my arms since she's watching my body language as well.

"And what was your reputation?" questions Dr Alison.

"A name like Shadow…. It can mean lots of things. You tell me," I challenge.

A wry smile makes way onto her lips.

"Well Shadow, let's talk basics. Age?" asks Dr Alison however I stay quiet and just stare at her.

"Race?" tries Dr Alison but I refuse to answer and my stare intensifies by the second.

I can see she wants to squirm with the slight twitch in her fingers.

"Ahem…. Where was you brought up?" asks Dr Alison trying to rephrase the question, looking down at her notes briefly to avoid eye contact before looking back up.

"Fine…." she says before giving up on that little piece of information.

"Family mental and physical health history?" questions Dr Alison.

Oh yeah, there's definitely something wrong mentally with my family. Perhaps one too many hits to the head? I have to fight a small twisted smirk from appearing on my face.

"Job occupation?" asks Dr Alison.

"Currently I'm working with NEST to find something," I answer.

"Something important?" says Dr Alison.

Well duh, or else I wouldn't be here now, would I? I keep my lips tight shut swallowing the sarcastic comment and just nodding.

"What is it?" she asks like she's just asked me what my favorite color is.

"Classified," I answer.

She nods slowly to me.

"Of course. I read that you got shot in the leg, how's it doing?" questions Dr Alison changing the topic of conversation.

"Just a scratch," I reply.

She writes as she talks.

"Uh huh. You know it's not a weakness to be shot. It shows that you're brave," comments Dr Alison sympathetically.

"Next question," I say changing the subject, there's no way I'm going to debate with her.

Who cares what she thinks. She looks at me suspiciously but doesn't say anything, choosing to move on.

"How do you feel about yourself?" asks Dr Alison when I don't answer after a few tense moments she asks a different question.

"Have you ever tried to hurt yourself?"

I tense slightly but then I force my muscles to relax.

"You already know the answer to that, don't you? I have no doubts that Lennox told you about the day I was first brought into the base, after all that's one of the reasons why I'm here. First that, then my attitude towards my leg. To casual to be normal right? Being shot and brushing it off like it's nothing. And finally my attitude towards life itself," I state cutting straight through the bush to the point.

"Well that and showing no change in behavior after shooting Mia," adds Dr Alison.

"You mean killing Mia. She didn't walk away after the shot. And if by changes in behavior, you mean guilt? No. I don't feel guilty for killing that cow," I say coldly.

"You never liked Mia?" asks Dr Alison curiously.

"I knew something was off about her from the start. After her trying to kill me, it increased my dislike of her," I reply honestly.

"After everyone's first kill, everyone has sometime of symptom, sickness, increases paranoia, but you have hardly any symptoms, even talking about it now, your fine, unfazed," observes Dr Alison.

"Hardly?" I ask puzzled, letting a little confusion slip in my voice but not my expression.

It should be none.

"I was told you have nightmares," says Dr Alison.

I could kill Lennox, That blabber mouth!

"No," I deny straight away, keeping my defenses up.

"No? What are they then?" asks Dr Alison with interest.

"Just dreams," I say evasively.

"That make you shout?" asks Dr Alison skeptically.

"Roller coasters pop in my dreams sometimes," I lie with a light shrug.

Dr Alison nods disbelievingly to my lie.

"Look Shadow. No one is against you here. Lennox told me what he did because he was concerned, still is. He just wants to help. This is a safe place to express your feelings. Is there anything you want to say?" asks Dr Alison softly.

I have to resist the urge to scoff at her cheesy words. Right…. I so believe that when there's a camera in the corner.

"Quite frankly this is a waste of tine, I'm bored and I want to get back to work. Are we done?" I question.

"Not quite yet. Do you have any family? Parents?" questions Dr Alison moving swiftly on.

"Has no one explained the birds and bees to you Doctor? How could I have been born if I have no parents? Maybe I was born in a lab?" I ask her mockingly, being purposely difficult.

"I'll rephrase the question then," says Dr Alison with a small frown.

"Do you have any siblings?" asks Dr Alison.

"No," I state wanting this to end as soon as possible.

"Do you want siblings?" she asks curiously, eyeing me closely for a gap in my defenses.

"No," I repeat.

They would of been dead a long time ago if I had any.

"How was your relationship with your parents?" questions Dr Alison.

"Perfect. We would sing and skip and fart rainbows in our perfect little family lives. If you're trying to see if I have daddy issues, let me save you the trouble. I'm not after approval from older guys, I don't sleep around and I'm not into guys a lot older than me," I say sarcastically before being short.

"I can see you're getting irritable Shadow. Is this because I've brought up your family?" asks Dr Alison observantly.

"It's because this is a waste of time. I value productivity. While I'm in here, the lead could disappear any second," I say.

I'm really starting to dislike this lady. I knew this was a bad idea.

"Don't worry, we're nearly finished. Then you can get back to work," says Dr Alison.

"What was your childhood like?" asks Dr Alison.

I stay quiet, refusing to answer out loud stubbornly.

It was like hell but I'm not telling her that.

"Okay. Refusal to answer. On to the next part, I'm going to say a word and I want to say the first word that pops into your head, clear your head and please be honest, It's crucial," explains Dr Alison.

I nod with slight reluctance. I want this over as soon as possible.

"Shadow," says Dr Alison starting off.

"Name," I answer quickly.

"Vi."

"Earned."

"Friends."

"Backstabbers."

"Family."

"Death, hate," I say.

"That's two words," points out Dr Alison.

"Both came to mind," I shrug.

She nods before we continue.

"Love," she says

"Fairytale."

"Orders."

"Lapdog."

"People."

"Targets."

"Play."

"Manipulating."

"Autobots."

"Heroes."

"Decepticons."

"Villains."

"Children."

That word stops me. It makes my brain stall as memories fill my head. Laughter, screams, cries, pain, bullet shot.

"Shadow?" asks Dr Alison.

I take a deep breath, feeling slightly shaky but I steel myself the best I can before I speak.

"Next," I demand.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes," says Dr Alison.

My eyes narrow as I glare at her.

"That's a description and it's more than one word," I reply feeling more than slightly miffed.

"I believe it's relevant. Lennox's daughter is blonde and has blue eyes. I've heard that you avoid her. It's hard to tell whether it's because she's a child or-" starts Dr Alison but I cut her off.

"This little session is over," I state with anger starting to flare within me as I stand up and clench my fists.

"We still have a little more. You can't leave," protests Dr Alison standing up herself as I storm over to the door.

"Whose going to stop me? You? Go on…. I dare you," I say lowly as I glare at her head on.

She freezes and although she's trying to hide it, she's shaking a little, caught off guard by the amount of hate and anger in my glare directed at her. She knows she has to tread carefully. Dr Alison splutters non intelligent words out, trying to get her brain to work.

"That's what I thought," I mutter before I storm out the room, slamming the door behind me.

I see Lennox further up the corridor.

"That was fast, did you sit all the way through it?" asks Lennox with interest.

I ignore him as I storm past him however he follows me down the corridor.

"Woah…. Shadow what happened?" questions Lennox trailing behind me.

"What happened is that you made me go through a stupid therapist session that was a waste of time," I growl out.

"Look Shadow you needed to go through that. I'm worried about you. You're showing signs of what I've seen in others. I think you might have PTSD," says Lennox hurriedly.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?! My whole life is a PTSD story! I know that already! I don't need to be told that! I figured it out a long time ago!" I shout before turning on him feeling livid.

To Lennox's credit he stands his ground looking little shocked but still remaining undeterred.

"But I think it's more than that. I believe you have survivor's guilt!" exclaims Lennox determined.

A laugh escapes me, feeling a little sick twisted humor inside me but the laugh is so bitter. It sounds poisonous even to me.

"Survivors guilt? That's what you think I have?" I scoff.

"On the day you saved my life, all you had on you was a blunt needle, tweezers and some alcohol. Why was the needle blunt?" asks Lennox his voice hard.

"Does it really matter? It worked," I reply in turn.

"Yes! It really does matter. You deal with your own injuries. You would think someone who did that would have a sharp needle and some damn painkillers!" argues Lennox getting angry.

"Painkillers would affect my movement if I had to perform first aid on myself. It wouldn't be safe, there's no point having any on me," I defend avoiding the first part of what he said.

"That's bull and you know it! You refused painkillers for your leg during recovery. You have the bare minimal essentials in your medical supplies and they risk infections. The blunt needle helps your injury while giving yourself the maximum amount of pain. You're punishing yourself, you have nightmares, hell when we first met you tried to off yourself! I've seen this type of behavior in comrades before. It's survivors guilt!" insists Lennox stubbornly.

"I never survived a damn thing! I was never a victim!" I yell frustrated.

Lennox's fists clenches and unclenches while mine remains at my side in a iron grip.

"When I was in a different country, I helped protect a government official. We had to get him through the desert in a truck and I was part of that squadron. We got stopped by some enemies. They attacked us. It was a sloppy attack. I was the one to get our charge out of the truck while my comrades we're fighting upfront. My friend, my brother in arms, shot one. Killed him straight away, after that the others ran away scared. We went up to where they were to make sure that they were really gone. He took off the mask of the man he shot. Only….. it wasn't a man. It was a 15 year old boy. After that he left the military, he still blames himself for what happened. He thinks he should be punished. He regrets what he did and the guilt consumed him. I don't want it to consume you as well," explains Lennox softly, my anger nearly extinguished now.

He doesn't understand.

"I know that you think it's the same Lennox, but it's not. I don't regret anything. If I went back in time, I wouldn't change a damn thing. Every decision I've made, I've accepted," I say with conviction, my eyes cold.

"Then why do you insist on doing this to yourself?" asks Lennox confused.

"My reasons are my own and it's no one's business," I state firmly although I start to mentally answer his question.

Because I don't deserve the best. I deserve the pain. I've made others suffer. I should suffer too.

"You can say that but you're in denial," insists Lennox stubbornly.

"Is that's what you want to think, then you can think that. But what's going to happen now? I probably didn't pass that little psych evaluation," I ask moving on.

"I said you had to take it. I never said you had to pass," answers Lennox.

"Wait… so I can know the lead?" I ask, my mood rapidly getting better with the potential promise of a lead.

"Yes," states Lennox, the answer making me excited.

"Who is it?" I question eagerly, my mood doing a complete 180.

"Deconi. Peter Deconi," answers Lennox giving me a file I didn't even realize he was holding.

"That son of a…." I say mostly to myself.

I open the file to see his name, a picture of him and some more background information.

"You know him?" asks Lennox sounding intrigued.

"Unfortunately, he was the one who got away unless he got caught up in that explosion I made. Then in that case I burnt that piece of slag," I explain as we walk.

"You know you just admitted to possibly killing someone," points out Lennox.

"And yet he's still alive and kicking," I retort.

"He was never at the meeting on the date you told us, wasn't even in the country. However he was meeting with the other people on your list a few months ago, in that exact same destination," explains Lennox getting me up to speed.

"So what country is he in now?" I ask looking up at him.

"This one," answers Lennox with a big grin on his face.

"Great. When can we go get him?" I question eagerly.

"We already did. Vi, your present is gift wrapped in the room at the end of the next corridor," announces Lennox excitedly.

A small smirk appears on my face that I can't stop.

"Oh you know just what to get a girl, Lennox," I compliment as I start to speed walk towards my destination.

"So I can call you Vi again, right? I earned it," asks Lennox with a smile.

I want to drop my grin but I can't. He got the person I hate in this military place where I can get more information about project Zelta.

"I get to interrogate him right?" I ask in turn.

"Within reason, yes," agrees Lennox.

"Then you're my new best friend, Lennox," I say flatly before I open the door and I see two rooms.

One with the Autobots in holoform and the wall has a one sided mirror. I can see through it to see Deconi with handcuffs on and a black eye.

Gift wrapped indeed.

"Who gave him the black eye?" I ask eagerly.

"The slagger was asking for it," says Ironhide with his arms crossed.

I smirk to him which he returns.

"Optimus Prime, it's been a while," I comment with a small grin.

I wouldn't ever admit it out loud but I missed him. He has a calming presence about him.

"It has, Miss Sedis. I regret I could not get a moment to visit you and the Lennox's. Ratchet told me your recovery went well. How is your leg?" asks Optimus politely.

It's pretty good, thank you," I answer.

"You're in a good mood. Was that because of the psychological session? How did it go?" questions Ratchet interested.

"It went horrible. I nearly stabbed her," I admit.

"Yet you have a grin. It's small but it's still there," points out Sideswipe.

"That's because I hate Deconi- that slime ball- and I get to interrogate him. I can break him in 7.3 seconds, I know his weak spots," I smirk excited.

"No physical violence allowed," denies Lennox.

"What if you all looked away for 2 seconds?" I propose.

Lennox gives me a dry look which says, 'not gonna happen.'

"Fine, 2 minutes and 3 seconds max if he really resists," I sat watching him.

He looks over to the window and waves. He can't see us so he's waving to nothing really but he wants us to think that he can see us.

"Hmmm…. interesting," I comment observing him.

"What?" asks Lennox.

"He still has both of his eyes," I answer thoughtfully.

"And he doesn't where you come from?" asks Sideswipe puzzled.

"Let's just say he may or may not of gotten on my bad side and blade," I comment vaguely.

"How'd he get on your bad side?" questions Lennox.

"That's not the question. The question is: How do you get on her good side?" asks Sideswipe half serious, half joking.

"That's easy. Let her interrogate someone she hates, isn't that right, Vi?" asks Lennox smugly.

I have to resist to roll my eyes at his immature behavior, but it's harder to resist the smile wants to surface.

"You're letting him call you Vi, but not me? I helped get the mech in," whines Sideswipe.

"But Lennox is letting me interrogate him and Ironhide gave him a black eye which puts him higher up on the ladder than you," I say in turn.

"Quit whining Sideswipe. It's just a human," says Sunstreaker.

"Ahem, robot," I fake cough in my hand.

Sunstreaker's optics narrow as he remembers our earlier agreement.

"She's just a human," corrects Sunstreaker with distaste.

"Better," I smirk.

Lennox clears his throat getting our attention.

"We'll ask him questions first, but you can add someone when you want to," says Lennox.

I nod in agreement.

"Lets start," says Lennox opening the door.

Lennox enters first with Ironhide with me trailing behind while the rest of the Autobots stay behind the one way mirror. I look him in the eye and our eyes lock for a second before he looks towards the person who seems like the biggest threat: Ironhide's holoform.

Boy… he has no idea what I would do to him if they weren't here. What's worse is when he looked at me, he looked right through me like I'm not even there. Normally he would be looking at me with a mix of fear and hate. Those are strong emotions and for him to look at me like I'm nothing is really surreal. Lennox stands in front of him and Ironhide behind him. I stand in the corner, the darkest spot in the room and blend in the shadows.

"Do you guys mind telling me why I'm in here?! I haven't done anything wrong," exclaims Deconi leaning forward in his chair.

"Apart from many questionable businesses, you ran away from authority, nothing looks more guilty than running away. But don't worry, you're not our main target, we need to answer a few questions," says Lennox in business mode.

"I want my lawyer. I know my rights," insists Deconi self righteously.

"Such a shame you're not entitled to a lawyer when it comes to our division of the military," replies Lennox unsympathetic.

"I'll sue you for this!" shouts Deconi angry.

"Just try it," threatems Lennox his eyes narrowed.

Deconi leans back looking more deflated.

"Answer our questions and you can go. What was the meeting about that you went into 6 months ago?" questions Lennox.

"I go to a lot of meetings, in a lot of places. I can't possibly remember which meeting you're talking about," dodges Deconi leaning back trying to look relaxed.

"Simlock science facility. We know you were there in the month. Talk before my friend runs out of patience," threats Lennox.

Deconi looks up at Ironhide's holoform making Ironhide emit a low growling noise.

"Simlock science facility is known for making new technology for hospitals. I was there to check on their progress, routine check up, since I'm a business partner there," says Deconi obviously lying.

Slime in my world and a slime in this world. Some things never change.

"Have you heard of project Zelta?" asks Lennox undeterred.

I see recognition in his eyes and he tenses up momentarily.

"Project Zelta? It doesn't ring a bell. Why don't you tell me what it's about?" asks Deconi, trying to turn the tables and see what information we know but Lennox is much smarter than that.

"You know what it's about. So cut the bull and tell us where it is," demands Lennox as I slowly walk around and behind Deconi sticking to the walls.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I can't tell you what I don't know. I'll tell you what, phone my office and I can schedule a tour for you in about 4-6 months of the facility so you can look around and find whatever you're looking for if it exists. Name like Project Zelta, maybe it's linked to those rumors of giant robots. It sounds sci-fi. Did one go for a walk about? Escape the lab? Shows what a screw up-" starts Deconi mockingly, thinking he's so smart.

I've had enough. I come up behind him and grab his hand, putting it on the table out flat, making him cut his sentence off.

"Don't move."

My only warning to him as I pick up one of my daggers.

"What ar-" he starts confused but he stops short when I stab my dagger in-between his fingers, making his fingers spread apart.

I hold his wrist in place as he tries desperately to pull it away. I move the dagger quickly in-between all of his fingers.

"What the hell are you doing, you crazy-?!" exclaims Deconi his eyes wide in alarm and fear.

Lennox and Ironhide both step forward to stop me until they see I'm actually not hurting him, I'm just making him pee his pants.

"Where's project Zelta?" I ask walking around the small table until I'm opposite him, leaning forward and looking down at my dagger going in the space between his fingers.

I got the idea from the knife song. I thought it would make a great idea for an interrogation technique except…. I didn't plan to miss the fingers. Eh….. I'm adaptable.

"I don't know!" shouts Deconi panicked, his eyes glued to the dagger.

"Wrong answer," I growl roughly.

"Better tell the lady what she wants," comments Lennox.

"I don't! I swear! Please! I don't know where it is!" shouts Deconi his eyes stuck to his hand frozen stiff.

Damnit…. He's telling the truth.

"Who knows where it is?" I demand my bloodlust and anger growing.

"No one does!" exclaims Deconi in fear.

My head snaps up to glare at him as my hands move from muscle memory, increasing his fear. I speed it up going at my fastest speeds, my hand like a blur, as I look him straight into his horrified eyes.

"Give me a name!" I demand in a growl doing my 'batman' voice.

"Despiadado! Michael Despiadado! He's the only one to know where it is! He didn't trust anyone else to know the location, I swear! " yells Deconi giving in completely.

A burst of rage fills me and I throw the dagger in my hand a few cm's above his head in angry and I curse out in my native language in my frustration.

"Shadow!" warns Lennox in anger and I back off Deconi.

I go behind him to grab my danger and hold it tightly in my hand.

"I'm done," I mutter going to leave.

I walk past Deconi who's holding his fist to his chest.

"You know…." starts Deconi making me stop just before the door, he might have something useful to say.

"… You're eyes remind me of someone else. The hate in them," comments Deconi.

I take a deep breath trying to stifle the new anger that comes rushing inside me. I ignore him as I walk out of the room.

He's damn lucky that Lennox and Ironhide are in there, because if they weren't and it was some other guards I'll have no problem killing him and them.

"Daaaammmn Shadow," drawls out Sideswipe, spending to much time around Epps. "I thought you was going to chop his digits off."

"I don't think that's an acceptable interrogation technique, you could of caused serious harm to the mech's digits," comments Ratchet.

"But I didn't. I know what I'm doing. If he moved then it would of been his own fault. Do you really doubt my skill with a blade?" I ask twirling the dagger around my own fingers and thumb at a rapid pace before putting it in my belt.

I thought that might relieve some of my stress but it doesn't work. I feel like I need to punch something. Maybe I can finally have that fight with Ironhide, that'll get some stressed released.

"I don't understand why you're so angry, you got to interrogate the mech you hate and you weren't the one who nearly got their digits chopped off," comments Sideswipe confused.

My anger spikes so I leave the room and slam the door behind me. I lean against the door in the emotion hallway and dig the palm of my hands into my closed eyelids. We hit a dead end. We're back to square one. Despiadado is dead. And he's the only one who knows where it is. Maybe I'm not suppose to find it.

Dead end. When you're cornered into the wall sometimes the best thing to do is knock it down.