Well, I'm a week late, but hey! It's on a Monday! Just when I think I'm settled, my job decides to pull a switcheroo on me and I had to work around a new schedule. On top of that, I ended up wanting to revise this chapter because I wasn't satisfied with how it was before. I wrote it extra long to make up for the late update, so please enjoy! Updates will remain every other Monday from here on out.


He comes to with ringing audio receptors, glitched visual feed, and flames all around. His ventilation fails and he coughs as he's filled with smoke and residue. Pain sears its way through his frame like a white hot blade, along with the fire licking at his armor, threatening to smelt him alive.

He tries to move, but there's a weight over him, pinning him down. He squirms and writhes, but no amount of strength can free him from the tons and tons of debris. N.E.S.T's reinforced walls are now all blasted and burned down around him. The heat scorches his frame, near unbearable in its intensity. There's no escape, and he's trapped.

"Help... help me..."

He twists towards the voice. Another Autobot crawls out from the frames nearby, burned and missing his legs. His cries are drowned by the cackling flames, but chill Crosshairs down to his core.

A dark shadow casts over him, and out comes a Cybertronian, unharmed and as black as night. He's barely visible in the darkness. The Autobot looks up, hopeful and hoarse, "Please... please..."

The black Cybertronian kneels down. Places a hand on the back of the Autobot's head, almost comfortingly, and presses down. "Shh, shh, shh..."

He pulls out a blaster, aims it to the back of his head, and shoots. The Autobot's body falls limp. He gets up, holsters his weapon, and turns his head sharply. Crosshairs freezes and shuts his optics off. He doesn't dare move. Moments pass. He can feel himself burning. A gun barrel nudges his helm, and then disappears.

"...No more on-site survivors. Their scraps are yours to take. I will track the rest."

The sound of heavy footsteps recede into nothing but cackling flames. Crosshairs stays down, stiffly, until he finally lifts his head to see no one. Fruitlessly he struggles, gasping in pain at every movement but desperate to escape. He's nearly consumed in flames and attempts to reset his damaged vision. His hand flails out and grabs hold of a sturdy, bent beam.

With his spark pulsing in its casing Crosshairs yanks it out, lodges it into the heavy debris on top of him, and pushes down. He only barely has the strength, but manages to pry just enough to pull himself out, crawling shakily out of the pile and escaping the fire. Crosshairs scrambles to stand up only to collapse in a scorched and heaving pile. He groans in pain. He can hardly move. It feels as though the energon in his lines has been set alight into liquid magma, and for a moment he considers laying there to die.

"Crosshairs...?"

He knows that voice and is instantly filled with new and determined energy. He glances around nearly frantic for a familiar frame and then he sees him. Buried under more debris, an arm reaching for him. Big and pained blue optics, pleading.

"Bluestreak!" Crosshairs crawls over with newfound adrenaline, spastic hands ripping at pieces of debris and ignoring the flames until he's able to see the young and critical Praxian gasping and shaking. Bluestreak cries, in a static laced voice, "I can't..."

He tears another piece of wall away, "Hold on kid-"

"I can't feel anything..."

"I got you-" he says, and then stops. He freezes, hands hovering but not sure where to touch. Crosshairs's spark plunges at the sight before him. The sight of Bluestreak, half-melted and missing an arm and a doorwing. The sight of his legs, crushed and broken. The sight of a beam, pierced through Bluestreak's chest.

"What..." Bluestreak whimpers, "What is it? What's wrong with me?"

"Don't-" Crosshairs pushes his head down, before Bluestreak can see. He wants to scream, to cry, but all he can do is clench his jaw and accept the inevitable. It's punctured his spark, rendering it unstable and his frame unresponsive. There's energon everywhere, flowing freely. Without any proper medical attention, pulling it out will kill him. Leaving it in will be a slow and merciless death - he will leak out and die.

"W-why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything?"

Crosshairs fights down a sob. Touches Bluestreak's terrified face, "You're gonna be okay, kid. It's gonna be okay..."

"Is it bad?" He whimpers, trembling, "Am I going to die?"

Crosshairs doesn't respond. He can't. It's answer enough, though, and suddenly Bluestreak is clinging to him, crying and afraid, "I don't want to die! Please, Crosshairs, I don't want to die!"

Bluestreak grows weak in his arms as his systems shut down. His field is spastic with feelings of pain, fear and despair. He knows, and Crosshairs knows, so they cling to each other one last time. The piercing pain in Crosshairs's spark overwhelms him, and no amount of physical damage can compare to it. He holds the shaking Praxian as close as he can, "I'm sorry, Blue."

It takes Bluestreak alarmingly long to respond. He grows weaker by the second, "I'm scared..."

"I know," Crosshairs grips the beam, "I know..."

He can't do it. He grits his dentals, tightens his grip, but a wrenching sob finally escapes Crosshairs. He feels a hand on his arm. Bluestreak stares up at him with dim optics.

"It's... its okay," he whispers, "I don't want to go... but I know I have to. I think... I'm ready now..."

Crosshairs shakes his head, "I can't."

"You said..." Bluestreak coughs up energon, "everything will... be okay. I believe it," his face falls into a tragic mix of devastated happiness, "I'll... I'll see them again... right? My creators...?"

With a stiff nod, Crosshairs murmurs, "Y-yeah. That's right, kid. You'll see 'em again..."

Bluestreak nods and falls silent. Tightening his grip on the beam again, Crosshairs braces himself, only to pause one last time and meet the young Autobot's optics, "Kid, I..."

"...What?"

Crosshairs doesn't finish the sentence. He hesitates once, and then yanks the beam free. Bluestreak's body convulses as his spark cackles and collapses. Crosshairs cries out again, tosses the beam, and holds the Praxian's head gently until Bluestreak's optics are off, and the light of his spark is extinguished for good.

Crosshairs can do nothing more than sit in the flames, hold Bluestreak's perished frame close, and cry into his shoulder. He wants the fire to consume him. He wants the pain to stop. He wants to be free of the guilt he knows he will have for the rest of his life.

Crosshairs eventually glances up, tears on his face plating, and stares at the dark figure standing in the midst of the inferno. Lethal green optics meet his own, with almost a sense of curiosity. A blaster barrel is inches from his forehelm. Crosshairs closes his optics, clenches his jaw and presses his head into it. Begging for death.

It feels like an eternity has passed. There's no point blank shot to his head. No words and no sound. He opens his optics with his head still to the barrel, staring up at his potential killer with a near challenging glare. He whispers, "Please."

The Cybertronian stares back. Glances at Bluestreak in his arms, and at the energon coated beam. He lowers his weapon.

"I like you," he says, "Go."


There's absolutely nothing in the N.E.S.T files about a black Lamborghini, but there certainly is information regarding a black and white police cruiser.

Barricade. The name stands out to her right away as soon as she'd found his profile. Decepticon scout. Volatile, unmerciful, and dangerous. One of the first Decepticons to be discovered on Earth, which means he's definitely been around for a while. There isn't a whole lot of information on him, but apparently he's been noted to be elusive and cunning and often impersonates as a police cruiser to move through the public undetected.

Ellie still has yet to figure out why Barricade had seemed in such a rush. For a seemingly merciless Decepticon, she supposes she's lucky he even stopped in front of her at all. She's considered going to Crosshairs about it, but decides against it. She doesn't want to worry him, and she just hopes that her fateful encounter with Barricade is nothing but sheer luck.

Charlie and Maddie go back to school within a few days, and without their company, Ellie's finding it harder and harder to avoid the inevitable. It's a childish thing to do, she knows, but Crosshairs is just as guilty for it. They've been dancing around each other ever since he'd decided to taste coffee. Through her lips.

It still makes her heart thud just thinking about it. Ellie isn't sure what it is about him, but Crosshairs has this uncanny ability to fill her with anxious energy. Not necessarily an anxiety that makes her fear, but the type that prepares her for whatever unexpected thing he might do next. There's been a few times after, where Crosshairs is around her and gives her these intense, fleeting looks. Intense enough to make her cheeks flush without even looking at him.

Ellie sighs, running a brush through her damp hair after a shower. She stares at her reflection on her bedroom mirror, silently taking note of her own little details. Sky blue eyes stare back at her. Ellie has never considered herself particularly drop-dead gorgeous, but she definitely isn't ugly either. Average at best. Her sister has always been the more attractive one. She twirls a strand of wavy blonde hair between her fingers and takes in the soft features of her face.

...Is he attracted to me?

The thought has floated around in her head a few times. It doesn't seem plausible- she's human, he's not. What's considered attractive to a Cybertronian most likely doesn't even apply to her. And yet... she's seen the look on his face. A look similar to Thomas in the past, just with less of a dangerous edge and more of a cautious, tentative one. Whatever it may be, it's what has compelled Crosshairs to steal those kisses, and deep down she knows that she isn't going to get an answer unless she sucks it up and talks to him.

As if fate has decided to intervene, she hears gentle knocking on the door and faintly smiles to herself. At least he's learned to knock after the last time he's entered her bedroom unannounced. Ellie takes a deep breath and calls out, "Come in."

She decides to distract herself by continuing to brush her hair, but in the corner of her mirror she sees Crosshairs walk in. He stares at her curiously as Ellie turns around and offers him a small smile, "Good morning."

"Mornin'," he replies, but the heaviness in his voice makes her pause and take a better look at him. His holoform looks rather tired, with his shoulders loose and his blue eyes a little dull. She frowns, now realizing why he hadn't been out of the garage as early as he usually was.

"Hey, you okay? You look tired."

Crosshairs rubs his arm and looks away, "I, uh... had a rough night. Couldn't rest."

"Oh? Did something happen, or..."

He shakes his head, turning back to her, "Negative memory feedback. It comes and goes."

It takes Ellie a moment to understand what he means. One more look at his haunted expression, though, helps her realize. She faces him, feeling her heart clench for him, "Nightmares?"

Crosshairs nods mutely.

"Yeah, I get those, too. They're not fun," she sets her brush down, recalling some of her own night terrors revolving around Thomas. But her dreams must pale in comparison to Crosshairs's experiences. She can't imagine what tortures him at night in addition to his recent trauma from DC. She asks him softly, "Did you want to talk about it?"

"No," Crosshairs says, a little bluntly. He comes forward and, after a moment of hesitation, reaches out and brushes her mostly-dry hair from her face. "Just... wanted to see you."

"Oh..." Ellie doesn't know what to say to that. In the end, though, she decides not to say anything and instead simply brings him into a gentle embrace. Crosshairs doesn't reciprocate right away, as she expects, but it only takes a few seconds before he accepts it and buries his face into her hair. Ellie rests her chin on his shoulder and whispers, "Well, I'm right here."

They stay this way for a moment, content in each other's arms. Once Ellie slowly pulls away, though, she knows that this would be a good time to talk about... about whatever this strange thing is between them. A little awkwardly, she clears her throat and murmurs, "Crosshairs, there's, uh, something I think we need to talk about..."

He tilts his head, but Ellie quickly realizes that he's not even looking at her, but at her shoulder. Without warning he brushes her hair away, grabs her sleeve and tugs it down. Ellie squeaks, "What are you - hey!"

"What is this?" He asks, blue eyes suddenly very focused on her bare shoulder. It takes only a moment for her to realize what he's looking at and hastily pulls her sleeve back. Her shirt hangs loosely at the shoulders, though, so it still doesn't completely cover what she's trying to hide.

"I - it's nothing, Crosshairs. It's just a... scar."

"A scar," he frowns at her, "Looked like a fraggin' bite mark."

"...It is," she mumbles. When that only seems to upset Crosshairs even more, she babbles out, "But it's old, Crosshairs. Like, many years old. It's fine. I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about-"

He interrupts her with a simple question that Ellie is too reluctant to answer. "He do that to you?"

She opens her mouth, but finds herself unable to speak. Instead Ellie swallows the nervous lump in her throat and looks away. She feels... ashamed. Her hand subconsciously touches at the scar, vaguely remembering how she'd gotten it. It's not her fault, she knows, but still there's a wave of hot embarrassment hitting her. She's unable to meet his eyes, at least until she feels his hand over her own.

"Can I see?" He asks. Crosshairs's voice is the softest she's ever heard it, and though she so badly wants to keep it all hidden away, the genuine worry on his face finally encourages Ellie to nod silently and let him pry her hand away.

Gentle fingers trace the faint scar. It's not very noticable unless one is as close to her as he is. Ellie can't help but to tremble just slightly under his touch, faintly recalling that particular memory. After a moment, once she gathers enough internal strength to speak, she whispers, "Yes, it's from Thomas. Sometimes he was, um... harsh. In bed..."

Crosshairs's face twists with a mixture of anger and sympathy. His hand carefully moves from her shoulder to her neck, thumb brushing just under her jaw, "Got one here, too. Saw it before."

Ellie nods, "That one's from a knife. He threatened me with it but he was also drunk, so... he cut me a little."

He shakes his head in near-disbelief, very clearly disturbed that someone has done this to her. It's so new to Ellie, being handled and cared for like this. His touch is always so gentle for someone who's so large and powerful, and just like before she can feel her heart thud just from his presence alone. It gives her the urge to allow herself to be vulnerable to Crosshairs, just as he's been for her, because she knows for a fact that he will never hurt her.

"There's more," she says, before she can stop herself. It's terrifying to her to be this open, but after Thomas's sudden appearance, Crosshairs deserves to know more. Still, Ellie hugs herself and looks away after admitting that.

She hears him sputter, "You're tellin' me he did more to you?"

Ellie loses her strength to speak, so instead she decides to show him. Swallowing the nervous lump in her throat, she slowly turns her back to him. Then, after taking a moment to gather her bearings, she quietly pulls her shirt over her head, shoulders hunched in inevitable shame.

The bedroom's cool air and prickling silence bite at her bare skin. Ellie closes her eyes, simply unable to watch Crosshairs's reaction in the mirror in front of her. It takes a long moment for anything to happen, but she hears what can only be described as a suppressed growl from Crosshairs. Suddenly he touches her, only slightly startling her, but his touch is still every bit as gentle as it's been before, and brings forth a warmth that she's only ever felt with him.

Ellie takes a deep breath and pulls her hair over one shoulder to allow him a better view. His fingers skim over every nick and white mark on her upper back and the backs of her shoulders, using light pressure, as if they were still open wounds and still hurt in some way. Despite them being old scars, the emotional pain lingered, making Crosshairs's extra care all that more significant to her. Ellie adjusts her bra strap nervously, then sighs softly.

"I should have pressed charges," she whispers, "I could have, but... I was younger. And scared. He threatened me if I ever told anyone and like an idiot, I listened to him. Even when we divorced, I felt like he would somehow... find a way to get back at me, if I tried to file for abuse. I guess I still could, but..." Ellie trails off as something comes to mind that causes her eyes to widen a fraction.

Crosshairs growls again behind her, then mutters in a dangerous tone, "I should've killed him."

As morbidly touching as it is, Ellie's glad that he didn't. She turns around, meeting Crosshairs's eyes, briefly appreciating how he solely focuses on her and not her body. She frowns, "Oh God... I just realized something..."

"What's that?"

Ellie takes a moment to slip her shirt back on before saying hesitantly, "So... you know that Thomas and I are divorced. We have been for years now. This was the first time he's ever actually come here, but now that he has, we might be in trouble..."

Crosshairs tilts his head, "I don't get it."

"Crosshairs, there are... legalities, to this situation," Ellie explains, shaking her head, "He violated the restraining order I have on him, so I could file for that. But also, since he saw you... he could file for a violation of our alimony." When Crosshairs still doesn't seem to understand, she explains further, "It's Virginia law. He's required to pay me because I was a dependent, and because I have custody of the kids. The issue is that... well, I'm not supposed to cohabitate. He doesn't know that you're an Autobot, so..."

"He could say I'm here," Crosshairs finishes.

Ellie nods, "He could say that there's another man living with me, yes. And that would put all of us in a very... very bad place, if someone comes for an inspection."

"...So what then?"

"I don't know... I don't know!" Ellie turns away, hands in her hair as she begins to grasp just how much trouble Thomas might cause, "I could try to call him and tell him that you don't live here, but that's assuming he'd ever listen to me. Christ, if he presses charges, that'll make this all so much worse! The only way I can think of to stop him is to hang that restraining order violation over him and hope he won't say anything, but-!"

"Hey, easy doll," Crosshairs's hand on her shoulder quells her restless rambling and turns her back around. Ellie stares at him helplessly before she shakes her head and leans into him, hoping in some impossible way that doing so will shroud her from it all.

"You're in danger, Crosshairs."

"I've always been in danger."

"Yes, but this is different," Ellie murmurs into his chest, "I won't be able to protect you or hide you if Thomas presses charges. I know I've told you to stay, but now-"

Crosshairs growls, "No. Ain't leavin' you to deal with him alone."

"Crosshairs, you don't understand..."

He pulls back and makes her look at him, "I understand enough," he pauses for a moment, and then asks her, "Worst comes to worst, you have anywhere you can go?"

Ellie frowns, "I have my sister."

"Yeah? Where's she?"

"...Across the country."

Crosshairs doesn't say anything. It's probably only dawning on him now how bad things may get. Ellie sighs softly and pulls away. Her mind races with the hundreds of possibilities, which only succeeds in unraveling her nerves even more. There's no way of knowing what Thomas will do unless she talks to him, and that it something she is far too terrified to do.

"Hey," he says, and Ellie feels him touch her arm. She looks back at him, sees the unnerve in his eyes, and knows right away that he's just as wary as she is. But then there's a shift in Crosshairs, a subtle click, as if something comes to mind. He gestures to the door with his head.

"You wanna take a drive?"


The riverside is a perfect distraction for Ellie. There's a soft blanket of snow covering the area, giving it a nearly magical feel. With her hands in her coat pockets she's walking alongside Crosshairs, who's standing in his bipedal form.

"Does it bother you?"

He glances down at her, optics glowing with interest, "What?"

Ellie gestures all around her, to the snow covering the riverside and the light pelt of snowflakes only just beginning to fall once more, "The cold. Does it affect you at all?"

Crosshairs doesn't initially respond. He shifts a little where he's standing beside her and lifts a hand up, watching the flakes land in his palm. His black frame is a stark contrast against the winter environment, Ellie muses.

"Not at this temperature," he says, setting his hand down, "Subzero, though, that slag will mess us up. Ice in the joints, core temperature failure, supercooled armor... stuff like that is risky."

She nods, intrigued. The media has always painted Cybertronians as practically invincible, but even they have weaknesses, extreme weather being one of them, it seems. For a little while they settle in silence, comfortable with enjoying the peaceful atmosphere for as long as they can. Eventually Crosshairs sits down, and Ellie glances at his hand now pressed into the snow, furrowing her brows as she catches a glimpse of something.

"What's this?"

Ellie scoots closer and very carefully reaches out, tracing what seems to be a long and irregular groove across the back of Crosshairs's metallic hand. She's surprised that he's warm to the touch despite the cool temperature.

Crosshairs raises his hand, angling it so that he can see. He hums, "'S a scar. Old one."

Ellie raises a brow, "You too, huh?"

It's meant to be a joke, but she can't help but to shudder a little. She usually tries to forget the marks that Thomas left behind. Clutching on her coat, she asks, "How'd you get it?"

Crosshairs rubs over the scar in thought, "This? Got this one way before the war started. Worked at a weapons manufacturing shop with my sire. Slipped up one time and-" he mimics an object slicing the back of his hand, "-piece of machinery cut through. Nearly took my fraggin' servo clean off."

Ellie winces, "Sounds like that was really painful."

He shrugs, "I was young. Had worse injuries since then."

Crosshairs glances down at her first a moment, and then reaches for her, stopping for a moment to ask, "You trust me?"

She hesitates. What kind of question is that? Ellie eyes his hand, but she's not afraid. She's never had to be, with him. Taking in a small breath, she nods, "I do..."

Without warning Ellie is picked up off of the ground, causing her to yelp. She falls back into Crosshairs's palm, momentarily too scared to move, then glares at him as he beings her somewhat eye level with him. "Goodness, you could have warned me!"

Crosshairs's optics gleam with mirth, "What, you scared of heights, doll?"

"No, but I am scared of being snatched off the ground!" Ellie huffs, "Why'd you pick me up, anyway?"

"To show you somethin'," he answers. With his free hand, Crosshairs touches at the right side of his face. He traces over a groove on what would be his 'cheekbone', if he had one. It catches her attention - Ellie's never noticed it before.

"You see it?"

"Yes, what is it? Another scar?"

"Mmhm. One of my nastier ones," he mumbles, touching at it again.

Ellie tilts her head to get a better look. She's struck with a sudden urge to reach out, but she's not close enough. It's intriguing to be this close to him, where she can see all the intricate plating that structure his face. The scar is a ragged mark across his cheek, as if he'd been sliced there.

She lifts a hand, "Can I...?"

She's unsure of how to finish her question, knowing how awkward it might sound. But Crosshairs seems to understand all the same and brings her a little closer, granting her silent permission. Ellie stands up on his palm and gently touches his silver facial plating, fingers tracing the scar for herself. Crosshairs shutters his optics and lets her explore.

"This one is deep," she whispers. The scar is definitely more severe looking than the one on his hand. She wonders how bad it was when it was an open wound. "Where did it come from?"

"Decepticon," he says, optics still off, "Battle of Tyger Pax. I was hidin' out up high, snipin'. Some 'Con tracked my location, snuck up on me, caught me right there with a claw. Almost lost an optic."

She hisses inwardly, just imagining that scene. Claws to the face? Decepticons must truly be as ruthless as they look. Withdrawing her hand, Ellie sits back, "It's a good thing you didn't. Losing an eye probably sucks as much to you guys as it does with humans."

"Kinda, yeah," he says, with a short laugh. Carefully he sets her back down to the ground, where Ellie feels much more stable. She briefly pulls out her phone to check the time, seeing that there's still a couple hours before she needs to pick up her children.

Crosshairs transforms behind her, Ellie turning around in time to see the fascinating scene. Once his tall form is folded down into a black Corvette, his holoform appears at its front. She raises a brow - it will never not bother her how he can wear just a t-shirt in this type of weather and not be affected at all.

As she walks up to him, she remarks with a small chuckle, "I guess we're both some pretty beat up individuals, huh?"

Crosshairs nods a little, "We ain't all that different."

"Yeah, well, my scars still don't really compare to yours," Ellie says.

Crosshairs shakes his head, "'S not true. You just came out of a different battlefield, doll."

That makes her pause. She's never thought of it that way - that she's been fighting a war herself. While Crosshairs has been on the physical battlefield, dodging and delivering bullets, for years she's been on the psychological one, fighting an enemy that's frightening enough to compare to any Decepticon.

"That may be true, but... I'm still no soldier."

He touches her face. It seems like an impulse, something Crosshairs simply can't resist to do, but she welcomes it all the same and presses into his hand just slightly. She can feel him leaning towards her as he murmurs, "Don't have to be. Not while I'm here."

It's a pledge, she realizes. A pledge that as long as Crosshairs is here, standing before her, he will strive to protect her. He will be the soldier. Her soldier.

With her heart pounding and her breathing labored, she tips her head up, closes her eyes, and Crosshairs doesn't hesitate. He eliminates the space between them, taking her face in his hands as he brings her into a gentle kiss. Ellie reaches for him, almost desperate, and instantly a warmth blooms within her, flowing through her veins like liquid fire. She deepens the kiss and is unable to hold back the tiny moan that escapes her, one which spurs him on as the kiss breaks only for Crosshairs to come back for another.

Ellie can feel it. His pain and her pain, mixing into one single tirade of overwhelming emotion that flirts between the two of them while they cling to one another. It takes considerable strength for her to pull away this time, but she does, and takes interest to his jawline, peppered by stubble that tickles her lips as she travels down to his jugular. His soft groan against her ear makes her smile. She finds what she's looking for and presses a kiss to it - Crosshairs's pulse, which does not thump in a rhythm, but hums in a continuous, soft vibration.

Cybertronian, a voice says in her head. Alien. Not human. Wrong.

She pauses, but Crosshairs only sees it as opportunity and begins his own series of kisses just underneath her ear, a sensitive space that makes her gasp. It prevents her from processing her own thoughts, so Ellie promptly decides to abandon them and gives into the sensations she's experiencing. Their lips meet again, this time with a fervor. Something bumps the back of her legs and Ellie squeaks, remembering suddenly that Crosshairs's true form is behind her.

The Corvette purrs. She can feel it through the front bumper, pressed to her calves. An abrupt wave of boldness hits her, causing Ellie to pull back. She gives the holoform a coy look before she sits and leans back. Further, further, until she's spread out over Crosshairs's long hood, flat against the warm, black surface. And Crosshairs follows her eagerly, his bright blue eyes locked onto her with a heated, sultry stare that pierces her down to the bone. He wastes no time finding her lips again.

Ellie is nearly overwhelmed by it all. Every kiss, and touch, and every breath exchanged fills her with more and more heat. Crosshairs is everywhere - above and beneath her, and yet she's never felt safer. Her heart thumps rapidly, just as his spark is spiking in his chest and under his hood. Despite the freezing temperatures, the warmth has become too much. Ellie fumbles with the zipper of her coat.

Somehow, in some way, she manages to shed free and all but tosses it into the snow. Left in just a light sweater, the coldness threatens to reach her. But nothing can permeate this, this heat that's consuming them to the core, so intense and yet they still want more.

Crosshairs, in a tender moment, averts his lips and brings them to her jugular - a particular place. He kisses the scar, and then moves lower to her shoulder, locating the mark there and offering it the very same attention. A different battlefield.

Ellie smiles. He brings his head back to look at her, so she takes his face and brings him in, pressing her lips to his right cheekbone - where his own scar would be. She then takes the back of his hand and brings it to her lips softly. She opens her eyes to see Crosshairs staring at her with an expression she can't describe, but intense nonetheless. Her fingers clutch at his powerful shoulders as he kisses her again, then lowers one hand and drags her fingernails over his hood, enticing a positively primal growl from Crosshairs.

The little voice in her head is still there, whispering things that are promptly muted as quickly as they come. But suddenly Ellie feels a large palm slip under her sweater, pressed to her bare arched back, and she's finally falling back into reason. What is this? What are we doing?

"Cross...mm..." she has to force herself to separate from him and pushes on him gently, "Wait, Crosshairs, stop... stop..."

As soon as she turns away, Crosshairs withdraws, looking as though he's snapped out of the trance himself. Ellie's face is flushed, her chest heaving from the adrenaline of what had just happened. Their eyes meet, and a short awkward silence hangs between them.

"Frag," he swears, and then Ellie feels cold. His holoform all but springs off of her, as if she's burned him, and turns away. When he looks back at her, he frowns, "Frag, Ellie, I'm sorry..."

"Sorry?" Ellie sits up, not entirely sure what he means, "Sorry for what?"

Crosshairs shifts, as if ashamed, "I didn't... didn't mean to force myself on you..."

Ellie's mouth falls open, realizing what he must be thinking. She scoots off of his hood and stands up, shaking her head in reassurance, "Oh, no. Crosshairs, you weren't forcing yourself on me. It wasn't that, I promise, it's just that... that..." she fumbles for the right words, "I... I don't know what this is, and I think that, um, maybe we should talk about it?"

Crosshairs doesn't initially respond, which only makes Ellie feel even more awkward. With a shuffle of her feet, she falls into her nervous habit of rambling, "I mean, it's just that I'm... me, and you're you, you know? We're not... we're different, so I'm not sure if this all is genuine, or misplaced, or-"

"You think I'd fake this?" He asks, voice on the verge between offense and disbelief. Ellie hesitates.

"I... well, no, of course not," the cold begins to prickle into her, so she takes a moment to find her coat in the snow and shake it off before slipping it back on. Still though, a chill lingers deep inside. "I just want to know what this is, between us..."

Crosshairs opens his mouth, but no words come out. He tries again, only for an unsure sigh to come out. He shifts on his feet uncomfortably and averts his gaze. It's then that Ellie realizes that he doesn't even have an answer - that Crosshairs is just as clueless to what has developed between them as she is.

Ellie decides to try again at a different angle, "What about back in the kitchen, when you... ah, kissed me. Why did you do it?"

"Because I wanted to," Crosshairs blurts, evidently before he can stop himself. Ellie isn't sure how to reply to that little revelation, but luckily she doesn't have to. Crosshairs swallows nervously, in a way that tells her that he definitely isn't the type who opens up about how he feels at all. "Because... because I stop hurting, with you..."

And just like that, Ellie's heart all but shatters into pieces. She watches as the Autobot before her eyes delves deeper into his emotional turmoil, until he explodes with a broken voice.

"I don't know! I don't fraggin' know what it is, Ellie, but," he looks away abruptly. Brings the back of his hand to his mouth, as if to suppress a sob, "It won't stop! The memory feedback! The screams! The explosions! The pain! The... the..." he shudders, "Blue, dead in my arms. It won't stop, none of it! I can't get it to go away! And it hurts, it fraggin' hurts! I can't stand this fraggin' pain, and the only way I can get it to stop is when... is when I'm with you..."

Ellie is at a complete loss, "Crosshairs..."

He shakes his head for a moment, like he's disoriented. Then, a distressed noise is all that she gets as a forewarning before Crosshairs's holoform collapses on his knees. Ellie is quick to kneel in front of him, hands to his chest to keep him steady. He does nothing momentarily, his eyes distant and face distraught. Getting all of that out was incredibly difficult for him to do.

A sob escapes him, "You take the pain away..."

You do me a favor and hold on to him, you hear?

"Hey," she whispers, placing a soft hand to his face, "Look at me, Crosshairs..."

A man like him needs a woman like you in his life.

"Please, look at me."

It takes a moment, but he's finally coaxed enough to meet her eyes. He's tense, but shaking at the same time - a tight spring ready to snap. Ellie calms him down in the one way she now knows, by leaning forward and pressing a delicate kiss to his lips. It's softer than their previous ones, meant to heal and comfort, and Crosshairs kisses back, desperate for all that she's giving.

When she pulls back, she thumbs his cheek and says, "Tell me what you feel now."

Crosshairs whimpers, "I can't."

"Yes, you can. It's okay," another soft kiss, "Tell me. Are you hurting right now?"

"...No."

"That's good. What do you feel, then?"

"...Weak."

Ellie frowns, "Weak, why?"

He shakes his head, unable to answer. But it's through his shameful expression that Ellie is able to understand. "No, Crosshairs. This isn't weakness. You're in pain, and you're suffering - it's okay to cry. It's okay to have emotions. There's nothing wrong with it. Please don't be afraid to open up to me. You've done it before, remember? And it helped you to let it out, didn't it?"

Crosshairs hesitates, but he nods wordlessly. Ellie gives him another gentle kiss, then smiles against his lips, "Can I tell you something?"

She leans back a little, meeting his eyes once again. With a deep breath, Ellie takes a moment to brush a lock of hair out of his face before confessing softly, "You take my pain away, too."

His brows furrow, "But I scare you."

"No. I scare myself," she pulls the lock of hair away again. She swears his hair is getting longer, "The times I see Thomas are nothing but my subconscious. Like when you see Bluestreak sometimes. It just happens." Ellie takes his hand and squeezes it, "Crosshairs, you've made me feel safer than I have in a very, very long time. You've helped me fight my own demons. Please let me help you fight yours."

Crosshairs clenches his jaw tightly - a telltale sign that he's furiously fighting back his emotions, so Ellie makes it her goal to open him up again and let it out. She whispers words of comfort and offers precious kisses and finally, Crosshairs breaks, and out comes all of the sobs and the tears and the built up pain he's kept in for so long. And Ellie holds him through it, fighting her own tears as she listens to this broken man - this broken mech - cry out his trauma.

How long as he hid this, Ellie wonders? How many sleepless nights? How many horrors come and go in his head? How many times has Bluestreak come back to remind him of his loss?

This is what humanity has done to him, a voice whispers. To all of the Autobots.

"I'm sorry, Crosshairs," she says as she holds him close, "I'm so, so sorry..."

Ellie's knees are cold and wet, from kneeling in the snow for so long. The cold temperature brings out a flush in her cheeks and nose, but she forces herself to ignore it. She doesn't care. Crosshairs slowly pulls back, once he quiets down. He looks emotionally exhausted, but there's relief in his eyes, too. After a moment he touches her cheek, seeing the pink tint to her skin, "You're cold."

"I'm fine. That doesn't matter right now," Ellie brushes his fingers away. Crosshairs casts her a long and hesitant look - the kind of look he gives when there's something he wants to say, but doesn't know how to get out. She asks him softly, "What?"

"I..." he pauses, "It wasn't just 'cause of the pain, Ellie."

She blinks, not quite knowing what that means, "What?"

"I didn't kiss you just to make myself feel better."

Oh, we're going back to that. Ellie can feel a sudden heat to her cheeks that is luckily hidden by her already chilled face. Is he trying to say what she thinks he's trying to say? "Oh... really?"

He nods, and then gets up. Ellie takes his hand when he offers, but Crosshairs doesn't let go even once she's up. With a firm but gentle grip on her hand, he says, "I fraggin' suck at sayin' what I feel. You know that, but doll..." he brings her hand up, pressing her palm to the center of his chest, "I do... like you..."

Ellie find it impossible to form words for a moment. As his words sink in, she can feel her heart beat just a little faster. Crosshairs likes her? It seems so bizarre to her. How is it that they, as two very different species, have come to this point? But slowly a warmth blooms within her - a warmth that she knows means that Crosshairs's little confession is anything but unrequited.

She opens her mouth, but evidently the pause was just long enough to make him worry. Ellie is thrown for a loop as it's now Crosshairs, for the first time, who falls into nervous rambling, "Fraggit, I shouldn't have said anythin'. 'M sorry, I just - you wanted me to, uh, say what I feel, and I... gah, slag -"

Ellie almost laughs, but she promptly decides that it isn't appropriate and instead just grins widely. She slides her hand behind his head and pulls him down, cutting of his words with a kiss. It's different from earlier, not meant for comfort, but meant to send a message. When she pulls away, she simply can't stop the smile on her lips as she says softly, "I like you too, Crosshairs."

Gently she takes his hand and presses it to her own chest, in the same manner as he'd done before. Her heart thuds and there's no doubt that Crosshairs can feel it. Taking a deep breath Ellie says in a hopeful voice, "I know that we're... not the same species. And I know that makes this very strange and unorthodox. But... I think... I'm willing to try this with you Crosshairs, if you are."


He can't believe what he's hearing.

Frag it all, there's no way he can resist her now. Crosshairs knew, from the very first time he was compelled to kiss her after Thomas, that he was doomed. He has no clue as to how this attraction started, or even when exactly, but all he knows is that a human femme has successfully wedged herself a place in his thrumming spark. This lovely, delicate creature who is his light, his only source of solace from his indescribable pain.

Only moments before he'd broken down into a pitiful sobbing mess. Again. And still, still, Ellie wants him as much as he wants her. Even in his weakest moments, she sees nothing but strength in him. And yet...

"I'm a fraggin' mess, doll," he murmurs.

She laughs a little, shaking her head, "You're telling me."

He huffs. That's a fair point, he supposes. No matter their species, they are still two very broken, emotional messes. Ellie stares up at him thoughtfully. There's a slight shiver in her, telling him that the cold is beginning to affect her, so he takes her small hands and tugs her into him. He speaks into her soft blonde hair, "You sure you can handle me?"

"I like to think I've handled you pretty well so far, for a big guy who decided to drop on my lawn unexpectedly."

Crosshairs lets out a small chuckle. Silently he closes his eyes and breathes in her sweet scent for a moment, feeling more at peace now with her in his arms than he has in a long, long time. Yes, this a very unique and unorthodox situation. Yes, it's potentially dangerous. And yes, it seems initially impossible to pursue. But frag, if the way his spark hums contently in her presence is any indication, he's damn well willing to try it, with her.

"If we're doin' this, we're doin' it slow, yeah?"

Ellie looks up at him and smiles softly, nodding, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Let's take it slow and... explore."

Explore. He likes that term. They're committing to nothing more but to see where they end up, and how deep they're feelings may go. It's strange - Crosshairs is certainly no beginner to relationships, even courted a few times in his younger vorns, but this? This is something special and nothing like anything he's ever experienced before. No previous partner has ever managed to get his spark to jump around and pulse tenfold like Ellie has. Then again, he's never emotionally opened up to any of them, either.

The subtle shiver in Ellie's small body pulls him from his personal musings. He gazes down at her flushed face and jerks his head towards his real self, parked nearby, "Let's go back, before ya freeze to death."

Ellie's laugh is more beautiful to him than any star in the universe. "Yes, please. Let's go home."