The elevator ride up was an uncomfortable silence amongst the group. While the previous ride up was disgust amongst each other over having Soundwave's energon on them, this one was silence in respect for the three remaining Combaticons as they mourn the loss of two of their members. The Autobots in the elevator may have been attacked many times in the past by the group, but they were useful in the post-war world, having a training to them most Decepticons didn't have and were good supervisors for them and most of the Autobots said they weren't too bad when you got to know them. Vortex and Brawl were two good resources and friends to the reconstruction effort and would effect it a bit, as well as having unknown side effects to the three remaining members. They had read reports of what happen when a member of a gestalt dies, saying that the other members were all greatly affected by it and acted more irrationally.

They all hope that wouldn't happen to the three in the elevator.

Blast Off was his typical aloof self, keeping to himself and making no efforts to acknowledge. Although, close optics could notice how much tighter he was holding himself with his arms. He didn't go up there. He didn't stop Swindle from stabbing Vortex. He didn't help Brawl subdue Vortex. He knew that the death of the two were partially on his shoulders.

Swindle was the exact opposite. He was hyperventilating, unable to keep his calm, cool façade he usually wore. He hold his hand where he cut it, trying to keep it from bleeding any more than it already has. Still, a small amount of energon was pooling under his feet. He had been the one to stab him. He was the one who slammed his head in the bookshelf corner, making him unable to tell friend from foe. He had been the one to prevent him from using his T-cog when he fell to his death. He was an accomplice to the case, unintentionally causing Vortex's death. The whole ordeal was his fault.

Onslaught was busy keeping Swindle from freaking out more than he already was. He usually had the role of the calm leader who knew what to do, but he didn't know exactly what to do. He didn't prepare a plan of attack if any of his men had fallen in combat, much less two of them, one murdered by the other. This was something he had no idea how to deal with this. All he knew was that he had to help Swindle's hand and try to keep him and Blast Off from going crazy.

Throughout the whole thing, one question ran through his mind: Why didn't Vortex send him a note to meet him like the others? Did he not trust him anymore? Did he suspect the other three of betraying them? Was it something else? He wanted to know what cost Vortex and Brawl's life, but he wasn't alive anymore.

The elevator stopped and the door opened. It was still the afternoon. They had the rest of the day to go through. A day to reflect on the trial. A day to mourn the fallen. A day to breathe a sigh of relief at not having to watch their back.

How morbid the place made their thought process.

"The cut isn't too bad," Ratchet said to Swindle as he covered the wound. "It didn't go too deep, although it did slightly cut one of the energon tubes. Best to just let the auto-repairing functions take care of it."

"He will be fine?" Onslaught asked, watching over his every little move.

"Yes. I say about five days will do it," Ratchet told him carefully, not wanting to get on a mourning Combaticon's bad side. "After that, your hand should be functioning just like it always should."

"That's good," Onslaught said in relief. "If any permanent damage happened to it…"

"I would've fixed it," Ratchet comforted him. "In case you forget, helping and fixing people is in my job description." Onslaught gave a small sigh.

"That's true. It's just that I worried about him," Onslaught told him.

"O-Ons, I-I'm fine. I can handle myself," Swindle stuttered, putting on a false front. "This isn't the first time something bad has happen to me."

"That's true, but with Brawl and Vortex gone…," he stopped, them a blank look, as if reminiscing something before shaking it on and continuing on. "We have to watch each other even more now. It's time to redouble our efforts and figure out how to take that fragging bear down for good and avenge them. No one does this to us and escapes unscathed," Onslaught said with determination that he really hoped was convincing.

"He's right," Ratchet agreed. "This bear thinks he can manipulate us into doing what he wants. No more murders must happen to our group."

"I don't know about you, but we told us that there wouldn't be any murders the first day we were here and it still happened. We said it again after the first murder. Still happened. What can we do?" Swindle asked them. "There's no escape. Anyone can turned against you. He keeps throwing motivations to get us to murder. I mean, what can we do against him?" Swindle asked them, unable to keep himself from being cynical.

"Swindle, quit thinking like that," Onslaught ordered. "We can't think like that. That's exactly what he wants us to do."

"He's right. If we can't trust each other, he will win, and we'll all be dead," Ratchet agreed.

"Except for one," Swindle murmured depressingly. "The one person who succeeds and gets away with it. The one person who murders someone and we can't figure out. You know what happens when that person succeeds? We'll all be executed, just what happen to Soundwave and Brawl. We'll all-"

SMACK!

Swindle held his cheek as Onslaught smack him with the side of his hand. "Swindle, keep it together, dammit! Do you want Brawl and Vortex to die in vain?!" he asked him.

"N-n-n-no, I don't," Swindle told him, scared.

"Then quit talking like this. Let me tell you right now, more than one person is making it out of this place alive," Onslaught told him. "We will pushed through this, figure out who this headmaster actually is, kill him, and get out alive, you understand me?" Swindle stared silently, unable to speak. "Swindle," Onslaught began again, gripping his shoulders gently, "do you understand me?" he asked again desperately. Ratchet watched the whole thing, realizing Onslaught was saying this for more than just Swindle.

"I-I-I understand," Swindle sputtered out, trying to keep his sanity together.

"Good," Onslaught breathe out in relief.

"Can I… can I go?" Swindle asked them.

"Ratchet?" Onslaught asked. Ratchet stared at the two before realizing they were talking to him.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Ratchet mumbled simply. "My work here is done."

"Alright," Swindle said, getting off the table and leaving the room in a rush. Onslaught stared at where he Swindle left in a hurried. He guessed that Swindle was lying to him. Makes sense. He likes to lie about a lot of things.

"Thanks, Ratchet," Onslaught mumbled, stepping out of the infirmary and leaving him behind.

"Here's to another trial completed," Blurr said, pouring out some high-grade from Mixmaster for the people in attendance: Smokescreen, Knock Out, Skywarp, Jazz, and Mixmaster himself. "We survived for another day."

"But we lost two more," Jazz murmured darkly.

"Hey, I'm trying to lift everybody's spirits here, Jazz, and I don't want you to ruin it," Blurr chastised him, handing him a glass of high-grade.

"I may be more happy if we weren't in the same room as one of the Combaticons," he told him, flicking his head over to Blast Off sitting by himself, reading a datapad.

"It is kind of a bummer," Skywarp agreed, scratching Lazerbeak's neck.

"You think we should invite him over?" Smokescreen asked them.

"No," Blast Off murmured off-handedly, catching them off guard.

"He could hear us?" Knock Out asked in surprise.

"It's not that hard," Blast Off told them, not even turning his head towards them.

"We have to work on our stealth," Mixmaster murmured, taking a sip of his high-grade.

"Yes, you do," Blast Off agreed.

"…Wow, we suck at it," Blurr said. "Anyway, we survived another trial. Good job, group," he congratulated them, drinking his high-grade.

"No thanks to you and Mixmaster," Skywarp told them, taking a swig of his high-grade.

"What?!" Blurr sputtered, spitting out his high-grade. "You want to say that again?"

"Well, you and Mixmaster did hinder us during the trial. Mixmaster with his defense of Scavenger and you with your obsession to convict Swindle," he answered, leaving the two of them speechless.

"Wow, you were actually paying close attention to the trial," Knock Out said, surprised.

"Well, being framed for a crime kind of makes you think," Skywarp told them, taking another swig.

"Huh, I guess I can understand that," Jazz agreed, taking a sip.

"Hey, can you blame me?" Blurr asked them. "It looked pretty obvious to me."

"You didn't take the time to think that it was too obvious," Knock Out chastised him. "You should've learn from the first trial that nothing is simple."

"Well, I was just trying to protect Scavenger. I know he couldn't have done it," Mixmaster told them.

"How do you know?" Smokescreen asked. "The situation we're in, anything could happen. One gestaltmate has already killed another. What makes Scavenger so special?"

"I just know," Mixmaster told them, not explaining it further.

"Hmph, alright. If you say so," Smokescreen agreed, finishing his glass. "Pout me another, will you?"

"Sure thing," Blurr agreed, bringing it back out with a little bit of a flashy style and pouring some into the glass. "There you go."

"Hah, nice moves. You sure you weren't invited as the Ultimate Bartender," he asked, taking a swig.

"Nope. They were cleared about that. Ultimate Racer is my fitting designation and I wouldn't change it for anything," Blurr told him. "Anybody want any more?" Before anyone could answer, the door slammed open and Swindle rushed in and headed for the bar. "What do you want, scumbag?" he asked him

"I need high-grade, now," Swindle told Blurr, looking unnerved.

"Uh, are you su-"

"Now!" Swindle yelled, slamming his fist on the bar.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Blurr told him, getting a glass and pouring some in it. "Here you go," he said, sliding it over to him. Swindle took it and chugged it down in one gulp.

"More!" he shouted slamming his glass on the table.

"Uh, I don't kn-"

"I said more!" Swindle shouted at him. Blurr glanced at Swindle before filling it up again.

"Swindle, are you okay?" Blast Off asked, sneaking up behind him.

"I'm fine! Get off my back, you haughty piece of scrap!" Swindle yelled at him before downing it again. "Come on, more!"

"Swindle, what's wrong with you?" Blast Off asked him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Get your hand off me!" Swindle yelled at him, brushing it aside before glaring at Blurr again. "More!"

"Swindle, why are you doing this?" Blast Off asked him.

"I need this," Swindle told him before glaring at Blurr again. "Hey, where's the high-grade?" he yelled at him.

"I think you need to rest, Swindle," Blurr told him.

"No, please, help me forget this. Please…." Swindle practically begged him.

"No, don't," Blast Off told him, earning a fist to his chest from Swindle, sending him to the ground.

"I said shut up!" he told him.

"Okay, this is getting out of hand," Jazz said, getting up and heading to him.

"Swindle, you need to calm down. We're not you're enemy," Blast Off told him, getting back up.

"Then get me a frakking drink!" he yelled at them.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Swindle," Blast Off told him. "You need to calm down and go recharge," he tried to calm him down.

"I'll calm down as soon as you get me some more high-grade!" he yelled, glaring at Blurr. Jazz took his chance and sneak up behind Swindle and slide his arms under Swindle and restrained him. "Hey, let me go!" he struggled, trying to get himself free, although it wasn't looking like he was trying much.

"You know, for someone as loud as him, he's not struggling much," Jazz said,

"The high-grade must be taking effect on him," Blast Off said, coming over to help. "He's a bit of a light-weight."

"Let me go, you slaggers!" he yelled, giving a pitiful amount of struggle. "I need more, now!"

"Why?" Blast Off asked, wanting to help him.

"Brawl… Vortex… the whole frakking trial!" Swindle told him. "I just want to forget everything," he sobbed, unable to keep himself together.

"Swindle…" Blast Off murmured.

"I should've been the one executed. Not Brawl, me. It's all my fault," he confessed to Blast Off. "I tried to kill Vortex. Brawl was trying to help him. How is him being executed fair?!" he ranted to Blast Off, going limp. "It isn't. Why is this happening?" he asked everyone, who was speechless. They didn't expect him to crash this hard.

"Swindle," Blast Off said, his voice quivering, "let me take you to your room. Please." Swindle stared blankly at Blast Off, his optics fogged over, his pose withdrawn.

"Finnnnnne..." he slurred. Jazz trade-off Swindle to Blast Off, who used his extremely tall form to hold Swindle bridal style.

"Everything's fine, Swindle. I'll take you to your room and you can rest the night," Blast Off comforted him, heading out of the room with him. The watchers stared at the scene with bewilderment and worried.

"Do you think Swindle will be fine?" Smokescreen asked the group after they left.

"I don't know, but I recommend that we pay attention to his ingestion of low-mid-and-high-grade. I've seen people like him turn to them to deal with their inner pain. He could become an addict," Knock Out told the group.

"Scrap…" Blurr muttered, sounding a little guilty. "You think me constantly egging him on as the killer could've affected him?"

"Hmm, maybe. Addiction isn't my forte, you know," Knock Out told him. "All that mental stuff, you should probably ask someone who specializes in behavior."

"What should we do?" Skywarp asked them.

"Watching him would probably be the best thing," Mixmaster told the group. "I don't know anybody who specializes in behavior here, so we should just make sure he doesn't have a downward spiral."

"I agree. It's the best option," Knock Out told the group.

"Well then, let's hope the best for Swindle," Jazz told the group.

"And for the group as a whole," Blurr said, leaving it off on a dark note.

"Ah, yes! This should be the last one!" Drift said as he retrieved the box from Swindle's room.

"I have disposed of the one in Beachcomber's room," Counterpunch said, entering the room.

"Which means we are all good. Tomorrow morning, everyone will be fine and uncrazy. I call that a happy ending," Drift said happily.

"Happy? I doubt that," Counterpunch said as he took the box from Drift's hand and slamming it to the floor, breaking it.

"Hey, I wanted to do that," Drift complained. "Breaking stuff is always cathartic."

""Does it really matter?" he asked him.

"…No," Drift huffed. "Anyway, why isn't this a happy ending?" Drift asked him.

"Because two more people are dead."

"Oh, yeah, well, that was the only way this was going to end. I mean, if we didn't, we all be dead. The rest of us being alive means a happy ending for us," Drift argued back.

"Not every situation has a happy ending. Only a best ending," Counterpunch countered. "Us being alive is the best ending, but not a happy ending."

"But we're all still alive and no one else is dead. That's good right? We'll all wake up tomorrow with a renew conviction to find a way out, we'll all be fine, and the rest of us will escape."

"What are you two doing in here?" The two turned their heads to see Blast Off carrying Swindle in his arms, moving and slurring some of his words.

"Why himmm? Whhhhy?" he kept saying.

"Destroying the box," Drift told him, glancing at Swindle with worry in his eyes. "Is he-"

"No," Blast Off told them, walking in the room. "Get out."

"As you wish," Counterpunch agreed, heading out of the room. Drift hesitated with the request, but seeing the glare in his optics, agreed, heading out of the room and closing it behind him.

"So," Counterpunch said as he stepped out, "still think this is a happy ending?" That everybody's fine? That tomorrow, all will be okay?"

Drift stayed silent.