Author's Note: Certain piece-of-crack parts of this chapter were inspired by a random comment from my son with autism. He's a fan of both Transformers and Star Wars, and this chapter is dedicated to him. (NOT a cross-over!)

Mom and I were in the middle of planning my birthday party the coming Saturday when Ironhide came to pick me for my next PT session. (Arcee might say it was an abbreviation for "physical therapy" but in my mind it stood for "personal torture.") When Aaron Hyde walked through the door, I kind of did a double-take. Talking about what I wanted to do for my birthday had reminded me about last year and seeing him made me think about all the ways I had changed - we had changed - since then.

He caught me staring and huffed, "What?"

I just shook my head, remembering my bratty response, deleted texts, and him injured and unconscious in the medbay. "Nothing."

"Mind if I come with?" Mom asked. "We're kind of in the middle of something."

Hyde shrugged and helped me to my feet. (Even though I could walk without assistance sometimes, I still appreciated having someone with a steady hand nearby.) "Sure, Spitfire. You can drive."

By the time we got to the main hangar, we had decided that the party itself would be an Autobot backyard football game - which I would sit out, of course - with grilled burgers for my birthday dinner. I was trying to decide on a cake when Ironhide interrupted us. "Sorry, Firebrand, but Ratchet's repairing a twin in the barracks. He wants us to join him there for your measurements and vitals before you do your PT with Arcee."

I sighed, more at twin trouble than at the change of plans. Remembering his description of Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's amputated-limbs scavenger hunt after Skids' and Mudflap's prank, I asked "How bad is it? I mean, I can come back another time if…"

"No, nothing that bad. Just fine-tuning something."

The lights were out in the barracks, though, and I began to get creeped out as we rolled forward into the dark.

I jumped and shrieked when the lights came up with a shout of "Surprise!" I was surrounded by my 'bots, who had decked out the barracks with streamers, balloons, and a birthday banner, and they were singing the Happy Birthday song. I was safely protected by Ironhide's cab. But my hands started shaking and my eyes were tearing up.

Dad opened my door and caught me up in a tight hug. "Too much?"

"Maybe a little," I sniffled.

"It's the adrenaline," he said in a low voice right into my ear. "Breathe through it, and you'll be fine. Need some help?"

I shook my head and took a deep breath through my nose. As soon as he'd said the word "adrenaline" I understood what he meant. My body was so obsessed with the bad surprise of Decepticons in California that even a good surprise brought on a wave of panic. But just being able to think through it helped more than I expected. Before the Autobots were done singing, I managed a weak smile.

With a nod of approval, Dad smiled and helped me out of the cab.

…

I was curious when I went in for my check up a week later and Arcee was the only one there. "Where's Ratchet?"

"In the brig."

"In the brig? Isn't that an unusual place to repair a twin?"

"No, he's the one in the brig."

I blinked and tried to process that. "Ratchet? In the brig? Ratchet?"

"Well," she continued, trying to act all nonchalant but obviously enjoying this, "he assaulted Wheeljack, and while 'Jack isn't going to press charges, Prowl's holding him for disorderly conduct."

I snorted. "It's October, Arcee. You're half a year off for April Fool's Day."

"I'm serious," she said, offering me her hand to help me climb the platform to the repair berth.

"Ratchet assaulted Wheeljack?" I said, accepting her invitation. "Worse than usual? I mean, he assaults anybody who ticks him off enough."

"The Vette twins convinced Wheeljack to help them with their Halloween costumes."

Laying down on the berth, I gave her a wicked grin. "I hear one Pit of a story coming on."

She giggled. "Like you wouldn't believe. The twin's new alt-forms are pod racers from Star Wars."

"WHAT?!"

"Yep. Totally against regs, of course. Prowl was fit to be tied, since they travelled off the base in those forms, too. I don't have footage of any of that, but I can show you a holo of how it went down in the brig."

"Oh, please yes!"

Around me, the room shifted in appearance from the med bay to the brig. Prowl had both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker in handcuffs and was hauling them along into the room.

"Halloween costumes are fanciful and fictional," he acidly said as he headed toward one of the holding cells. It automatically swished open when they stepped close enough.

"Well people dress up as real things for Halloween, too," Sideswipe protested as he stepped into the cell like this was a regular routine for him. The cell-door closed and the bars started glowing with some kind of power current.

"Like nurses and policemen," Sunstreaker added.

Even I could see from Prowl's doorwings that he wasn't thrilled with a police uniform being considered a Halloween costume. Stepping to the furthest cell over, he was a little more rough as he nudged Sunstreaker inside. "If pod racers are real, then pod races are as well. If pod races are real, then it would be appropriate for you to have a pod race in these alt-forms."

"YES!" Sunstreaker exclaimed as the door closed on his cell and the bars warmed up.

Sideswipe gave Prowl a dubious look and held his still-handcuffed wrists out between the bars of his cell. "You feeling okay? Because you just turned into someone really cool. Maybe you're being possessed by the ghost of Jazz?"

"I am not possessed," Prowl coolly insisted as he removed first Sunstreaker's and then Sideswipe's hand-cuffs, "unless it is by a logical processor. Since pod racers and pod racing as depicted in the movie are obviously a fictional depiction of a real-world phenomenon, then it follows that the rules of real-world pod racing are the same as pod racing as depicted in the movie."

"Except for the Tusken raiders, of course," Sideswipe nervously added. "They were just a literary license."

"Noted." He turned on his heel to leave, but Sunstreaker demanded, "Aren't you letting us out?"

"No," he answered, not even gracing them with a glance while he worked at a console, probably securing the brig again. "Not until I have confirmed that I can clear the schedules of myself, Optimus, Ironhide, Ratchet and Wheeljack to participate in this event."

"But you guys are slow," Sideswipe complained.

Prowl finally looked back, the light in his optics utterly cold. "Precisely. You'll provide an excellent target the entire time."

As the door closed behind Prowl, Sunstreaker looked at Sideswipe. "Well that backfired. We are so fragged, bro."

Sideswipe facepalmed, making his helm clang.

As the holo faded back into the med bay, both Arcee and I were roaring with laughter. It took a few minutes for me to calm down enough to ask, "So is Ratchet in the brig with them?"

"Yep," Arcee answered. "In the middle cell. When Prowl asked him about when he might be free for a pod race, that's when he found out about Wheeljack's involvement and went ballistic and got locked up."

"For how long?"

"Prime went easy on him - he'll be released by the time the Witwickys and the Prime Protection Unit get here from D.C."

"Wait! Samuel's coming here?"

"Yep. Nobody wants to miss this race!"

...

Since I was Samuel Prime's assistant ambassador, I got to be there to greet him and everyone else from DC when they arrived on the island. (Officially, they were there for some kind of summit or something, but that excuse was made up after the race was scheduled.) The C-17 named "Daisy" landed a day early so we'd all be able to have some fun beforehand. Bumblebee led his squad down the ramp in their alt-forms, but Samuel wasn't behind the wheel. Instead, he was with Mikaela and his kids in RaFly's alt-form, and she pulled aside on the tarmac near me with Hound and Trailbreaker right behind her. The others continued on into the hangar, following Bumblebee.

"Samuel, Mikaela," I said, nodding to them as they all got out. "Welcome to Diego Garcia."

Beatrice did a cartwheel, clearly happy to be out of the plane, while Daemon said, "I'm hungry."

"They'll have lunch for you at the base daycare," Samuel said, and Daemon grimaced.

"But Dad!" 'Trice protested.

"I get it," I said in sympathy. "My parents ditched me at the daycare until I was fifteen. It's just something you've gotta do on Diego Garcia. Can't have kids wandering around the base." Who knew what they'd accidentally stumble across.

Mikaela hugged 'Trice. "We'll go out to the R&R cabins afterward, I promise. And we'll be able to go swimming in the ocean, just like last time."

"Your lunch is waiting," Samuel added. "'Breaker will get you there."

Daemon sighed heavily. "Alright, alright."

Mikaela rubbed noses with 'Trice. "Go with Hound, he'll give you a lift."

After the kids were gone, Mikaela caught me in a tight hug, too. Stepping back, she rested her hands on my shoulders and looked me over. "They've shown me holos, but I didn't really believe it until now." Meeting my gaze, she grinned. "You're really okay."

"Yep!"

"I've got some business to take care of with your dad and Optimus before the big race," Samuel said, "but Optimus says you and Mikaela are welcome to hang out with the others in the barracks."

"But first," Mikaela said, "we've got a little something for you."

RaFly rolled closer, and Mikaela pulled a wrapped present from the trunk. "Happy belated birthday!"

I blinked in surprise as I accepted the present. "You already got me that really nice charging station that I wanted."

"That was just a placeholder until we could give you these," Samuel explained. "Go on! Open it!"

Grinning, I unwrapped the package and pulled the top off. Inside was the most impractical gift I'd ever received - and considering how many times aliens had given me gifts, that was saying something. "Boots?" High-heeled, glossy, black boots.

Mikaela winked. "These boots are made for walking."

I just stared, feeling like this was supposed to be an inside joke or something but totally not getting it.

"You know," Samuel said, "the song?"

"...no?"

RaFly laughed as she transformed, and then she projected a holo of Supergirl and Wonder Woman that seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with heroines' footwear. The bouncy song in the background had the line, "These boots are made for walking/ And that's just what they'll do / One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."

"You just made me feel old, Annabelle," Mikaela complained, but she was grinning.

"Thank you for these," I said, finally getting what she was trying to say with them, and my heart warmed as she pulled me into a hug.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you walking," she said in a low voice. "You're a survivor, just like your dad, and I am so proud of you."

"Thanks," I breathed, and she squeezed my shoulders again.

"Sorry to run," Samuel said as RaFly collapsed back down into her alt, "but for the record, we're both proud of you."

"No worries," I reassured him. "We'll catch up with you later over in the Autobot hangar."

He nodded and climbed into RaFly's driver seat. As they drove away, Mikaela and I started walking into the Autobot hangar, but seeing the med bay hall reminded me. "Oh! I'll join you in a few minutes," I said to Mikaela. "I have a check-up with Arcee."

"Sounds good. Want me to take these for you for now?" she asked, gesturing toward the boots.

"Sure," I said, handing them off to her. "And seriously, thank you again. I might not wear them much until I'm stateside again, but they are awesome."

"Then they suit you perfectly." Grinning, she turned left toward the barracks.

I continued straight on to the med bay. The door swished open, and I froze in my tracks. Bumblebee was standing face-to-face with Arcee, who was kneeling on one of the medical berths so they were closer to each other's eye-level. (Or at least, I hoped that's why she was kneeling on a berth in the med bay!) Their foreheads were pressed together, and he had his hands on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek-struts. She was playing with his antennas, and he was making happy-sounding clicks and chirps, despite the fact that her fingers were basically claws in this form.

I wasn't sure what exactly I was seeing - they weren't even lip-locked - but they were clearly so distracted that they hadn't even noticed I'd walked in on them. I could feel my ears getting hot with my blush and I inched back out into the hallway until the doors automatically closed again. Slowly letting my breath out, I pulled out my phone and texted Ratchet instead. /Arcee's busy. Can you give me my check-up this time?/

/Who's she repairing?/

/Bumblebee?/

/Slag the both of them, those Pit-spawn rust-for-processors. Fine. I'm in the barracks./

I preferred hanging out in the Autobot barracks anyway. It was a full-on party again, with RaFly and Mikaela the center of attention. Ratchet beckoned me over to where he was talking with Evac. Against the backdrop of laughter and music, he went through the familiar process of taking measurements, putting me through various exercises, and finally drawing a blood sample.

"Taken to torturing humans too?" Hound asked Ratchet as he entered the barracks with Trailbreaker.

"No, smart-aft, I'm covering for that fragging femme."

"Can you blame them?" Hound chuckled and continued over to hang out with Trailbreaker, Jolt, and Wheeljack.

I got a text from Arcee a couple of minutes later. /Is everything okay? You never showed up for your exam./

Rolling my eyes, I showed the screen to Ratchet. "She was completely oblivious that I was even there."

"Go on and enjoy the party, Firebrand. I'll bang their helms together. And my med bay had better be intact!"

I really hoped that was the last of the commentary on whatever was going on between those two! They had never been like this before. Even at the ranch they had been flirty but not touchy-feely. Or gropy. Or whatever that was.

Then I remembered - Arcee had committed to Bumblebee, had claimed him as her mate right before Samuel used the Matrix to heal him. Optimus had made a big deal about it at the time, but I'd kind of forgotten. That's why everything was different now, why they were bot-smooching and why everyone else just took it in stride. It was like 'Bee and Arcee were engaged! Holy slag!

How did that even work for 'bots? Did they have the equivalent of an engagement ring? Or a bridal shower? Or a wedding? And how did any of that work when they were stationed on opposite sides of the planet?

Had I missed their whole engagement?!

I could feel my body tensing up again, and I didn't want to accidentally turn this into a panic attack, so I took a few deep breaths. I would ask Arcee...when she didn't have her fiance around. After all, the Witwickys were only staying for a few days.

...

The next morning, someone knocked on my bedroom door.

"Come in!" I said, still snuggled under the covers.

Dad stepped into the room and laid some camouflage clothing on the foot of my bed.

I must have looked as surprised as I felt because he said, "Officially the race will be a training exercise, Annabelle. We'll be arriving there on an LCU. Even guests will be in fatigues."

I swallowed hard, suddenly uneasy, but he was already gone. As I dressed, I mentally batted away images of Mikaela and Sam shooting a bazooka at Decepticons, only this time dressed in camo. Looking in the mirror was hard, though. Dad wore fatigues all the time, of course, so it wasn't exactly foreign to me. But the figure looking back at me in the reflection was a stranger, a warrior. She was terrifying. I didn't want to be her. I didn't want to have to fight. I wanted to be broken enough to be sheltered still, to be kept safe.

But that would mean missing out on today.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. That's not how this works, I told myself. I wasn't in camo when Mom and I fought back for Bumblebee, and just because I look like a NEST recruit doesn't mean I'll be fighting today. This is just for show. I'm just playing dress-up, like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and the others are. It's basically just a Halloween costume.

That thought settled well in both my mind and my heart. The Autobots were cosplaying Star Wars for this 'podrace' and I was just doing something similar. That made sense. It wasn't scary. Opening my eyes, I looked at the girl in the mirror and nodded. I could do this.

…

Down at the lagoon, we boarded a military ship (Dad could tell you what it was but I couldn't) and set off for the Egmont Island Group and the big race.

Prowl being Prowl, we had a briefing during the voyage. First, we reviewed the entire podrace scene from Star Wars and he gave a PowerPoint of all the rules he'd inferred from the movie and from print Star Wars canon sources. The list was surprisingly short considering he was the one who wrote it.

Then he gave us the rundown on the racetrack. Basically, it was the beach that circled Egmont, with a few submerged sandbars connecting the islands. Egmont didn't belong to NEST, but someone up the chain of command had secured it for today's "training exercise." Yachters liked to put in there, but overnight, the British Navy had shooed away any civilians within a fifty-mile radius. It was home to some delicate coral reefs and several threatened species and, basically, if anything living was disturbed by the Autobots, the culprit would forfeit the race. And face Prowl's wrath.

Sunny's and Sides' holoforms were slumping lower and lower in their chairs, but I nodded in agreement during Prowl's environmentalism rant.

The 'bots alt-forms were already loaded into the LCU's (Landing Craft Unit, according to Prowl's presentation - tank ferries that could land on a beachhead) and they would disembark after us humans. So my first glimpse of my Autobots tricked out as podracers was on the leeward shore of Egmont's Lubine Island. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe drifted down the ramp first. They were sleek and almost otherworldly, looking both organic and predatory somehow. Their pods made me think of silver and gold sharks, heat shimmering from their engines and spoiling for the race. They were dwarfed by Ironhide and Ratchet, though, who both managed to look like tanks despite the fact that they were hovering above the ramp and then the sand. Prowl and Wheeljack were less lumbering than 'Hide and Ratchet, but they didn't have the twins' sleek look, either.

But Optimus… Holy freaking slag, he was awesome! He needed an LCU all to himself. Bigger than both 'Hide and Ratchet combined, he revved his black engines' jets and fire flicked down either side of his pod's red and blue panels. Yeah, he was bigger but suddenly Sunstreaker's and Sideswipe's engines looked kind of dinky by comparison. If they were like sharks, then the Prime was like a killer whale. The other boss-bots might not be able to keep up, but I had no doubt Optimus was going to be breathing down the twins' necks the whole time.

The rest of the 'bots joined us in their baseforms, and I grinned up at Bumblebee. "You're not racing?"

He glanced at Arcee and then back at me. "Naw, I want to stay out of Optimus' way on this one."

Well if he was cheering for the Prime, somebody had better cheer on the twins. Since they looked like they might turn out to be the underdogs, I decided to root for them.

The pod-bots gathered at the starting line (drawn in the sand), and Epps presented a flare gun to Samuel. After a second's consideration, he offered it to his wife, and Mikaela grinned as she raised it in the air. I covered my ears along with everyone else, but I still heard the shot that started the race.

My heart leaped to my throat as I again saw Samuel and Mikaela firing rockets at the Decepticons. The heat and roar of Cybertronian engines brought me back to that day - panic and pain and despair - and I fought for breath as I fell to my knees. Arcee was instantly beside me, her metal hand on my shoulder, but to my surprise, my heart-rate slowed. It allowed me to breathe again.

I shook my head as it cleared and looked around, trying to get my bearings again. We were at Egmont. There was no danger here.

Mom and Dad were watching the racers, and I scrambled to my feet before they could notice me. Arcee exchanged another look with Bumblebee before saying in my ear, "Are you okay?"

"Are you doing that?" I whispered, knowing she'd hear me.

"I'm regulating your pulse and blood pressure, yes."

Forcing me to calm down. "Thanks," I said, and though she really had helped pull me out of that panic attack, I felt uneasy about her taking over something as fundamental as my heart. Like the sleep meds and the narcotics, it didn't actually fix anything. It was just a bandage over the trauma - and trauma covered up didn't heal. "I'm good now."

Again she looked up at Bumblebee like they were talking over the comm, and she nodded slightly before letting me go so my pulse could do its own thing. By then Dad had noticed me. I caught him looking at the place where I'd fallen, where you could still clearly see two knee-prints in the sand. His concerned gaze met mine, and I grimaced. Trying to change the subject before he could bring it up, I asked, "Who's ahead?"

"Sideswipe," Mom said, eagerly handing me her tablet. It was showing a drone's streaming footage of the leaders.

I stared at the screen, trying to mentally shift gears and at least pretend I was interested in the race. I'd missed half of the first lap.

Silver and gold left a wild wake as they skimmed up the shoreline, sometimes over water and sometimes up on the sand. As I watched, they rounded the Isle of Rats, the westernmost point of the islands, and Sideswipe skittered out over deeper water like a skipping stone. He had to slow down which made him sink a bit, though he still hovered inches above the water. He bobbed around like a cork as he tried to get back on track. Sunstreaker had slowed down ahead of the turn and made it through just fine. Prowl was in second place now, much to my surprise, and Optimus was just a length or two behind him. While the Prime roared along streaming fire, Prowl lived up to his name, somehow seeming almost cold-blooded with his blue-glowing engines as he stalked his way along the surf.

They were approaching our position, and I looked up. They whizzed past us in a blur of color and fire, and though my heart quickened, the panic and pain didn't return. I sighed in relief and looked back at the screen, grateful for the drone's eagle-eye view. I also suddenly remembered that I'd stolen my mom's tablet. Fortunately, she and Dad were sharing, and I focused again on the race.

The straightaway along Egmont's southern side gave Sideswipe an opening, and he was coming up on Optimus. The Prime swung wide, trying to keep him from passing, but as they approached the tip of Southeast Island, Sideswipe's pod bounced once belly-first onto the rocky surf, scraping up his finish but also giving him traction to adjust his speed and angle. He leaped forward and ahead of Optimus, cutting through on the inside of the "track."

Behind me, Bumblebee played a clip from Star Wars. "I don't care what universe you're from, that's gotta hurt!"

As soon as he rounded the point, Optimus' engines belched out furious fire, and as I'd predicted, he was breathing down Sideswipe's neck. I half-smiled, starting to really get into it now.

Prowl still raced along between the twins, and Sideswipe had to get past him if he wanted to have any hope of winning. They were coming up on the Isle of Rats again, and Sunstreaker and Prowl both slowed to make the turn.

Sideswipe didn't. This time, his engines banked high as he rounded the island, flying almost vertically for a few seconds before he managed to swing around Prowl and drop back down to racing level alongside his brother.

Optimus wasn't a dunce - he stole Sideswipe's trick and rounded the point with his engines at a vertical, too. He even managed to leapfrog Prowl, spinning in a slow, fiery spiral to drop down to level in front of him.

As they roared down the straightaway of Egmont's southern side, it was increasingly clear that this race was down to the twins and the Prime.

They whipped past us for a second time, entering the third and final lap, and bore down on Southeast Island's sharp tip.

I expected them to slow, but they barrelled down the shore in tight formation. I wasn't sure if that was because the twins weren't about to give up their lead or because they didn't want to let those killer-whale jet engines catch them.

Just when I was sure all three of them would go shooting off into the ocean, Sunstreaker swung wide and slowed, banking his engines as he entered the curve.

Sideswipe, however, held the course, dropping one of his engines to skim along the sand as a pivot point again. After an astrosecond of hesitation, Optimus did, too, allowing him to slip ahead of Sunstreaker.

"He's got it," Chromia said. "That silver punk is going to win unless Optimus takes a shot at him."

"He won't," Samuel chimed in, "even though he's mad enough to out-cuss Ratchet."

They were both right. Optimus didn't fire at Sideswipe even though he couldn't find an

opening to get around the twin on Egmont's northern straightaway. Sideswipe again skimmed the sand on the Isle of Rats to make an even tighter turn there this time. Optimus banked his engines but didn't punish his paint job in the turn. On the final straightaway, though, Optimus opened up his jets and made it a photo finish. Sideswipe only beat him by a yard or so.

…

The voyage back to Diego Garcia was the exact opposite of the trip out. Instead of Prowl's PowerPoints, the 'bots threw a party. Epps was in charge of the music, which blasted out of Wheeljack's speakers. Our ship was too small for Optimus to stand up even without his jet-pack upgrade, so he sat in his base form with a barrel of some kind of fuel in his hands. Ironhide, Chromia, Jolt, Radio Flyer, Prowl, Mirage - everyone joined him in swigging something except Ratchet and the twins. Sideswipe had torn himself up enough that the medic decided to patch him up on the way.

About an hour into the voyage, Ratchet finally decided the twins were repaired enough. When they joined the party, that's when things really started getting loud.

I could only imagine what the ship's brass would think of the ruckus, but if they got to see the race, they probably wouldn't complain too loudly.

We were still more than an hour out from Diego Garcia when I noticed some 'bots were missing from the party - Bumblebee and Arcee.

I started wandering the cargo bay they had us in, and eventually I heard Arcee's laughter rise above the music behind me. I followed the sound to a stack of crates, away from everyone else. When I peeked around the corner, they were both in their base-forms, cuddling, and as I watched, Arcee laughed again and playfully nudged him with her elbow.

Except, he hadn't said anything. It wasn't until that moment that I realized they hadn't talked to each other this entire trip. They'd exchanged looks and talked to other people, but they were using the comm between themselves the whole time.

Why would they do that?

She stroked his cheek-strut, and while he made a happy hum, he still didn't say anything out loud. Why keep using the comm when he had his voice? That didn't make any sense. Unless...

They were talking over a bond instead of the comm!

They were way beyond "committed" to each other - they were full-blown mates!

Fury filled me, and my face flushed hot. I wanted to scream. The anger blind-sided me, and I ducked back behind the crates again. What the slag?

I needed to get away from here - away from them - and I worked my way back toward the party.

Dr. Sarkisian. She could help me tame this, make sense of it. My hands trembled as I pulled up her number on my texting app. /I need to talk with you./

/Scale of 1-10, is this an emergency?/

Logically, it shouldn't be, but I was so fragging angry my hands tingled with a longing to hit something. It made no sense, and it scared me, at least in my mind. In my heart, I was ready to fight but I also felt like I was drowning. /Dunno. I'm not going to hurt myself or anyone else, but I might destroy a relationship or two beyond repair./

/Are you available now?/

I gritted my teeth. /No, we're off-island and I won't be back for at least another hour./

/Think you could make it through to tomorrow morning?/

/Probably, but I have school./

/What's the first class you can afford to skip?/

/English. It starts just before 9 a.m./

/I've got you on my schedule. Do you need additional support right now?/

I looked around at Samuel and Mikaela, Hound and RaFly, people I usually didn't get to spend time with. I would be able to cope for a few hours. Probably. /I think I'll be able to distract myself, at least for a little bit./

/Okay. Feel free to reach out if you need it in the meantime. That was an excellent analysis of your own mental and emotional state, btw. Good job!/

I pocketed my cell phone, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Only then did I notice my jaw was aching from clenching my teeth so much. Letting my breath out slowly, I relaxed my jaw and looked over at Hound. If anyone would be able to distract me, it would be him. The anger would just have to wait. I'd fake it until I could make it.