A/N: A quick shout out to Foxbear here; I was so inspired by this author's amazing stylistic nuances, that I fear I unconsciously incorporated a framing device which originated within Foxbear's current work in progress, Prism. I didn't realize this until I gave this chapter a last read through...in anycase, I hope you can forgive me Foxbear, for I mean no offense and of course want to give full credit where credit is do! Especially to such a talented and inspiring author as Foxbear!

Please go and check out Prism, it is a simply stunning Transformer's Prime work that is a must read!

~~~Epsilon Pax & Bumbee

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Waiting…

Just waiting…

As a nurse, June Darby had more than enough practice waiting. But that didn't make her an expert, didn't make it any easier.

Just waiting and waiting…

She hated the silence, the doubts that plucked and pulled at her elbow that teased and whispered in the corners of her consciousness. Jack had warned her that things had changed—perhaps for the worst—and that Orion had changed. He had wanted to show her the picture Miko had taken, but at first June had refused. She hadn't wanted to see that photograph at first, didn't want to know her worst fears had been confirmed. For she wouldn't dare say it, hadn't want to admit she was afraid that the Autobots, that all of them, had lost the one being who had given them their faith in all that was good, just and noble. She truly and deeply feared that they had lost the one individual who had ever given them strength, who had been their backbone of courage. Oh Optimus…where are you now?

Of course, in the end, she had gone to her son and asked that he show her the image of Optimus that Miko had taken. It had not been her curiosity that had won out, but rather it had been her resolve as a nurse that had driven her forward. It was her no nonsense attitude that demanded she never go blindly forward, that she should advance into every situation armed with as much knowledge as possible. But that image…Optimus in black and purple…Optimus bearing the Decepticon symbol…

In all of her years at the hospital, June had experienced, had borne witness to many atrocities, many horrors. But that one image…it had knocked the very breath from her lungs. Taking a deep, soothing breath now, June drank in the thick, warm, afternoon air that seeped in from her window as she drove. Gripping her steering wheel with white knuckles she turned into the long abandoned parking lot, pulling into a dusty space beside a forlorn warehouse. Adrenaline drawn out of her not by fear, but by an anxiety of the unknown, coursed through her as she stepped out of her white sedan.

With a quick and keen gaze, she scanned her surroundings. Knowing that she was early and that they hadn't arrived yet did little if nothing to calm her singing nerves. Instead of giving in, of caving to the whispering doubts, June steeled herself and began to prepare for what was to come. She retrieved a bright blue backpack from her backseat—an old one of Jack's—and placed it gingerly upon the hood of her car where it too could wait with her. Its contents were far from fragile, but it was their importance that gave her such reason for great care. For it was filled to the brim, over flowing with anything and everything that June could fit in it, anything that Miko might need in the coming days: water bottles, PB&J sandwiches, crackers and other small snacks, a small medical kit, a flashlight, a change of clothes.

Next, she pulled from the car a soft, plush blanket, one that Miko could wrap herself in, and use to keep warm in the cool of the desert nights. This she didn't place beside the backpack, but rather kept folded in her arms, hugging it to herself, running her fingers along its soothing folds. It wasn't a new blanket, but it was one of Jack's favorites, one that he would wrap himself in when he was sick, or when he was younger and had a bad dream; it was the blanket that she would drape over him when he fell asleep on the couch, or, on more than one occasion, when he fell asleep at the kitchen table working on homework. It had given Jack great comfort, had soothed him, protected him; so it was now that she hoped it would do the same for Miko.

Of course Ratchet had told her that packing the backpack would be wasted effort, an unnecessary endeavor, that if everything went according to plan, that very evening Miko would be returned to the safety of the Autobot base…and so would Orion. Ratchet…her thoughts drifted to linger upon the overtaxed medical officer. She had heard about Megatron's call to the doctor, had heard how the Decepticon leader had mocked Ratchet with the title of 'Warlord' and taunted him with the implication that he now led the Autobots.

She knew, had seen it within his optics, that more than anyone, Ratchet wanted Optimus back, that he yearned for nothing more than to give up such a heavy burden, that he did not want the responsibility of leadership. But like any good doctor of the highest caliber, Ratchet did not complain, did not utter a single word of self pity, but instead took charge of what was happening, attempting to guide the Autobots to the best of his ability. He may have balked at the notion of leading troops, but truly it was not so different from commanding a surgical unit in an operating room.

Of course she knew that it was not just the mantle of leadership that Ratchet balked from, rather it was the all too real fear that he was taking Optimus' rightful place. He was no replacement for their Prime, never could be, never wanted to be. But he, like the others, felt that disquiet festering within their sparks, that discomfort which spawned from the all too real possibility that if they failed, if Megatron achieved all that he wanted, and Orion fell to the ranks of the Decepticons, then Ratchet would have no choice, would be forced to assume that role.

"I'm too old for this June," He had murmured to her just evenings ago, "Too old…I've seen too much, too much death…too many lives wasted…I'm not strong enough to keep going like this…" He had reached for her then, cradled her close in the quiet of the base. Bulkhead had gone out to be with Miko, leaving Bumblebee and Raf, along with Jack, to linger in worry over a then stasis locked Orion. She and the Doc Bot had been left with the solitude of the monitors of the main hanger. June had welcomed his touch, had allowed him to settle her so close, close enough that she could tip her head against his chassis, could feel the pulsing warmth of his spark though the metal of his chest, against her cheek.

"So many of my friends fell in those battles eons ago…so many I could not save…so may slaughtered on the open battlefield. I remember…remember one of those battles…one of the all too common surprise attacks on Cybertron during the War…

…Nothing but charred ash and smoke drifting through the air, the Autobots had been unprepared, hadn't seen the Decepticon's coming. That day, those bots were more citizens turned soldiers than anything…none of them had any real combat programming. It was one of the worst conflicts Ratchet had ever witnessed first hand, not because of the ferocity of the fighting, no, because there had been no fight. The Decepticon's flew in, registering the gathered group as Autobot sympathizers and little else…and then had proceeded to tear them apart. Ratchet had tried all he could, had tried to fend them off, tried to protect not just the band of refugees he had been tending to, but had tried to protect her…his beloved sparkmate…

They had been separated in the chaos of the initial attack, and Ratchet, try as he might, had only managed to find her amid the smoke and rush of death, just in time to watch one of the Decepticon Seekers snatch her up, up out of his reach and tear her spark from her very frame. The pain of losing her had been immense, blinding, like nothing he had ever felt before. In that instant his world had turned black, he had fallen, crumpled to the ground in a useless heap. By sheer will alone he had willed himself to move, crawled to her side inch by staggering inch, wrapped himself around her, cradled her, clung to the empty shell she had become…

"I don't know how long I had been there, or how long I held her like that…" He looked down, his optics dim, almost as if they had been fading, receding into the distance with the memory. "All I know is that when my senses at last returned, I was not alone…"

It had been a warm touch, gentle and firm that had first shaken Ratchet back into awareness. Still in the throes of shock, of sorrow, of indomitable pain, the medic had been unable to respond, to speak. That someone must have known, realized what Ratchet had witnessed, had endured, had lost. There had been a sensation of movement then, she had been taken out of his arms, laid to rest gingerly, tenderly on the ground beside him. He had been too weak, too broken to protest, to object. But that someone had in turn taken Ratchet into their embrace, had sheltered him in his sorrow, had cradled him until he regained his senses, gained control over his processor, his servos once more.

"I remember looking up…up into his blue optics and realizing who had saved me…had pulled me away from that chasm of sorrow, had kept me from falling in, from following her no matter how badly I wanted to…"

June blinked through damp eyelashes, asking the question she already knew the answer to, "Who, Ratchet?"

He smiled sadly upon her, an odd glossiness to his optics, "Optimus…it was Optimus…my Prime had stayed with me, refusing to move despite the danger to himself…he would not leave me..." Ratchet heaved a sigh, "I was the only one that survived that attack…and he would not abandon me…" He shuttered his optics, as the aftermath of that memory rolled through him, through his processor, his spark "It is why I will not abandon him now…no matter what Megatron does to him or makes him do, no matter how much he may change, I will not leave him, I will not give up on him…"

It occurred to her then, as their conversation echoed back to her, that she hadn't even asked Ratchet for his sparkmate's name, hadn't dared to at the time. As if summoned by her thoughts, June's cell phone hummed to life with an incoming call. She didn't hesitate to answer, already knowing who was on the other line.

"I'm here, Ratchet."

"That is good news, Nurse Darby…I'm entering the coordinates into the ground bridge now, Bulkhead, Bumblebee and I should be there shortly. Keep in mind, just because you won't see us, doesn't mean we're not there…we're not going to let him harm you—"

"—That's the least of my worries."

There was a great sigh that echoed from the other end of the line; he sounded so weary, as if he was ready to give up, to give in, "I know June…you're as brave as any of us…"

"Listen…everything is going to be ok, this is going to work."

"Let us hope so…Primus protect us all…"

She would have hung up then, but as she lowered the phone from her ear, his voice called back to her, the crisp ring of authority returning, a surgeon rallying his team for a last desperate effort, "Remember, it is imperative that you get Miko to come to you, we cannot move in until she is clear…out of harm's way." It hurt him to say as much as it hurt her to hear it. Never, in her brief time of knowing the alien race, could she ever have imagined that they would be speaking this way of Optimus.

"I know, Ratchet—" But the sound of an engine approaching, the deep throaty growl reverberating from building to building, interrupted. At the sound, her blood quickened, "—Ratchet, they're here."

No time for doubt, for hesitation now. Snapping her phone shut, ending the call with a decisive click, June pocketed her phone and stepped away from the car, leaving the blanket atop of her ajar car door, where it hung, limp and lifeless.

It was not long before she saw them, saw the hulking form of an approaching semi-truck painted in the shadows of midnight as it drove straight toward her. She swallowed thickly, sorrow filling her, weighing her down, as a growing dread, a swelling certainty dawned within her that everything about this moment was wrong. But caught as she was within the eddies of her emotions, she did not waiver. Rather she watched, wordlessly as the semi-truck drew closer, moving cautiously now before coming to a stop a calculated distance away. He was torn, she realized, torn between wanting to be close to Miko and his hesitancy to approach someone he did not know…someone he did not remember…Her thoughts corrected her and berated her, as the distance stretched between them like a yawning, physical wound.

It was also a keen reminder that this wasn't Optimus, and that despite all of her instincts, she need to keep her guard up.

"Hi, Ms. Darby!" Chipper and every cheerful Miko popped her head out of the driver side window then, her sudden appearance startling to June.

Somehow, she managed to work up a tense smile for the young girl, "Hi Miko." She willed herself not to move, not to run forward and scoop Miko up, up and away from him, "I have your things…" She watched with shallow breaths as Miko pushed open his door, tennis shoes slapping against the warm concrete as she jumped down and started towards June, an arm extended expectantly.

"Thanks…"She seemed distracted, uncomfortable, and not at all willing to walk away from where he was parked. It was only when Miko faltered, stopping halfway between June and Orion that the nurse realized something wasn't right. This had been Miko's idea, so the young girl should have known that she needed to distance herself from Orion as quickly as possible. They needed to give the Autobots space…space to attack. But nothing happened as silence filed between them, and Miko did not move closer as a thin smile turned up her lips. "So…um…can you just hand me the backpack? Then…we'll be going…"

Doubt gnawed at June, teasing, plucking, pulling…was Miko serious? Or was she playing along, putting up a show for Orion?

So far, June hadn't seen any trace, or sign of the Autobots. Were they there? Did they need more time? She would have thought that they would have revealed themselves by now…The deep throated sound of Orion's engine as he idled there, impatient and eager to leave, only set June's nerves on edge. Stalling she looked around Miko, calling out to him a blatant challenge, "So…you're not going to even say hello?"

Miko's jaw dropped open, but June pushed ahead, wanting to give the Autobots as much time as she could, "I know you do not remember me, but you don't have to be rude."

Briefly turning, she gripped the strap of the backpack, pulling it off of the car, walking over to Miko, gently placing it in her hands. Whatever happened, June wanted her to have the supplies, reason told her it was pointless, but those whispering, nagging doubts told her that Miko would need these things before the end. June tucked the blanket over the younger girl's arm tenderly before she rounded on Orion again, "Well…?"

Full of reluctance, at last he spoke up, "Forgive me…I meant no insult. I know so little of your people and Earth culture and, unfortunately, have great reason to be over cautious when…interacting with your species." Spoken in that familiar voice, in that cadence of velvet, his words made June want to almost cry, "You may address me as Orion."

"Hello, Orion…" June's voice was small, quiet under the weight of her sorrow, "I'm June Darby…a friend of Miko's…"

"It is an honor to meet such a friend of Miko's…let me assure you June Darby, that I will keep her safe…this I pledge to you with all of my spark, that I will protect her…and as soon as our most sorrowful of errands is done, I promise to return her…and Arcee to you and the Autobots."

June bit her lip, "I know you will…"

Darting forward, Miko gave June a tight and quick hug, locking her thin arms around the nurse's waist, "Thank you Ms. Darby, I'll be careful, I promise." Then, suddenly, before June could react, could lift her arms to hold Miko to her, the girl was gone. Her bright ponytails bobbed after her as she walked with great speed back toward Orion. Just as she reached for the door handle, June's phone rang. She answered it as she watched Miko clamber into Orion's cab, "Hello—"

"June!" Ratchet sounded frantic, as panicked as she had ever heard him, "June it's a trick! Miko sent us the wrong coordinates, she sent us to the opposite side of town! You must not let them leave! We're coming!"

Those looming feelings of dread, those whispers of doubts all leapt forward in that instant, blooming and blazing triumphantly with validity. June realized now, realized too late what Miko had done. The young girl had manipulated all of them, had tugged the strings so that Orion would be kept out of the reach of the Autobots. The Autobot's weren't here, June really was facing Orion alone.

"Miko!" June called after her, pulse racing, heart throbbing in her ears as she tried to think of something, of anything to keep Orion and Miko there, "Miko, I forgot something else for you…it's in my car, won't you help me get it?"

Miko paused, faltered, just a step away from the comfort of Orion's cab. Already had he began to close the door, but her outstretched hand kept it open, but only just. When she didn't move, June did. Throwing caution to the wind, she closed the distance between them, going straight over to Orion's door and yanking it open. The metal felt warm, alive, under her hand, but as her fingers closed around the latch she felt as though the great semi-truck shifted away from her, as though he did not appreciate her touch. The unspoken insult only made June tighten her grasp as she looked up at Miko, offering the young girl her free hand, "Come now, I need your help carrying it…just a case of water…"

"You brought a whole case?" Disbelief, caution and surprise all warred within Miko's voice.

"Well, you didn't exactly say how long you were going to be gone…and I wanted to be sure that you would have enough."

She felt a rumble ripple through Orion as he snapped the door open completely, breaking her hold on him, "Miko…June is right to worry, and I do not mind carrying extra water for you…" June could hear the reluctance that weighed in his words; he didn't trust her, didn't quiet believe her. But neither did he want to risk Miko, he would linger, would take the extra supplies—supplies June didn't have—out of fear, of concern for her.

"Um…sure, ok…"Miko timidly, and all too slowly clambered down. This time June took firm hold of her hand, reassuring her with a smile, "I'm sorry, I just worry about you…you're like a daughter to me…" Despite the situation, June meant it, wanted to somehow convey to Miko that she didn't want to see her hurt. Yet, as the two walked back towards June's car, this time Orion followed. Keeping just out of arm's reach, they were both shielded in his shadow as he drove slowly forward.

It was too close…too close…June's hand's trembled now, fearful that when, if, the Autobots appeared it would be too little too late. More importantly though, as they rapidly approached her car, June knew the moment she opened her trunk—her empty trunk—Orion would realize she had been lying, that she had been stalling them. Well, June grimly thought as she reached her car, leaning forward for the latch that would open the trunk, she could always push Miko in her car and lock her in. That would at least guarantee Orion would hang around for a few minutes more…maybe long enough for the Autobots to arrive…and certainly long enough for him to transform and rip June's car apart to free Miko.

June took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on Miko's hand, ready to toss her into the car, ready and waiting…waiting…

But that moment of waiting was shattered when Bumblebee rounded the corner in a cacophony of screeching tires and a roaring engine.

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Please R&R :)