A/N: Gonna go swimming today... :D Can barely wait!

Swirlspot: Who do you think were siblings? There are no families in here, except during flashbacks. :) I enjoy answering questions, so feel free to fire em at meh!

Darkflame's P.O.V.

Scanning system: Injuries to the stomach plating, mouth, chassis, faceplates, neck, right side,-

Scanning surroundings: Medbay. Seven Cybertronian spark signatures detected. One Predaconian spark signature detected.

Predaconian?

I forced my systems to online, not giving them a chance to online at a proper speed. As soon as my optics opened I purged what little Energon remained all over the medbay's floor.

Ratchet's not going to like that... I thought, letting my helm rest back on the berth. Ratchet's pedsteps hurried over, and I shut my optics with a groan.

"Darkflame!" He didn't say anything else, however, merely scanned me and brought Bumblebee over to clean up my mess.

I felt my faceplates turn blue with embarassment. I tried to mumble 'sorry', but my lip components refused to move correctly.

"I've drugged your system."

I arched a eyeridge in a question. "In case you haven't noticed your stomach plates are blown wide open."

Surprised, I glanced down. My midriff was covered in a blue-stained cover, and I could see the Energon seeping through on the one edge.

A twinge of pain made me sigh. Why is it I'm almost always in the medbay?

Heavy pedsteps entered the medbay, and I cracked open a optic that I wasn't aware had closed. The tall, golden Predaconian stood at the doorway, green optics twinkling.

"It appears this isn't the first time you've ended up in the medbay." He said, his wide grin proudly displaying his fangs. "I am Dunebreaker, Head Commander of the Princess' royal army!"

I rolled my optics. That's nice. Does it look like I'm in the mood to talk?

Dunebreaker huffed. "I was searching this mudball of a planet in case any Predacons would have decided to rest here for the time being when I discovered two of them mid-battle! You were obviously on opposing sides, but didn't want to hurt each other, it seemed. That pesky Seeker forced my hand, however, and I was obliged to show myself."

I rolled my optics again. This mech seemed to enjoy his story-telling. Going by the tingling in my stomach plate region, I could tell the drug was wearing off.

"The Princess is also looking for the rightful heir to the throne. She doesn't want to lead, apparently, so she's looking for her older kin."

"'y sure iss not you?" I managed, feeling Ratchet's hot glare at my words. "'Cause ya seem hillflem enou' ta be one"

Dunebreaker hesitated for a moment, faceplates stony. Then he broke into a wide grin a laughed. Loudly. "I like you!" He said, nodding to Ratchet. "This one is humourous, is she not?"

Ratchet scowled. "Can't you speak Cybertronian like Darkflame? In case you haven't noticed, I can't understand your language!"

Dunebreaker shrugged, features falling into solemness. "This one doesn't know a joke when he sees one, does he?"

I blinked affirmatively, then said, "I'll teach ya to say somethin'..."

Dunebreaker blinked, then faced Ratchet. "I enjoyed a nice meal when I first came. Those tiny, fleshy organics that run on two legs? Delicious!"

Ratchet sputtered, optics wide. "You ate HUMANS?! And you CAN speak Cybertronian!"

Dunebreaker howled at Ratchet's face. "You are my favorite!" He told me. "What are the

'humans' anyway?"

"They are not as intell'gent as us, but they have... sparks."

Ratchet scowled. "You two could be conspiring, and we wouldn't know it."

I grinned weakly, glad the drug was wearing off, even though the pain was returning. "Ratch, it was a joke."

The medic scowled, harder if that were possible. "I didn't like it! Next time I'll throw a wrench at both of you, even if YOU," He pointed at my prone frame. "Are still incapacitated!"

Dunebreaker, despite not understanding Cybertronian, took Ratchet's scowling face and menancing tone to be a threat against his 'favorite.' He stepped forward, placing his frame between mine, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

Ratchet's face went slack for a moment, then he was right back to scowling, this time pulling a wrench out of his subspace. "Back off!"

The gold Predacon snarled in reply, snapping his fanged denta together.

"Dune', no! He wasn't-errgh!" The drug was wearing off faster now, and the pain was coming at me in full force. "Threatening!"

Dunebreaker turned his broad back on Ratchet, concern written over his features. "What's wrong? Is that medic hurting you?"

"How?!" I spat, noticed optics turning our way from outside the medbay.

Ratchet began to walk around the berth so he could reach me, but Dunebreaker stood in his way. "Move! I need to get to Darkflame so I may administer more meds!"

"D-Dune... move.." The pain was like fire racing through me, and I clenched my denta in a effort not to cry out or move.

Ratchet growled with frustration, smacking his wrench on Dunebreaker's back. The blow went totally unnoticed, and Ratchet called for Optimus. "Take this Predaconian OUT! He is disrupting the medbay, not to mention keeping me from giving Darkflame more meds! She is in PAIN!"

The Prime's optics seemed to bore into Dunebreaker, and the Predacon, recognising an authority, stood straighter and bowed slightly. "Dunebreaker, I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to remove yourself from the medbay." He pointed out into the base.

I closed my optics, blocking out the near-silent arguement that broke out at my berthside.

The pain was now in waves, and I knew it would not be long before I began crying in pain. Static danced across my vision, and I wasn't aware I was writhing on the berth until servos clamped down on my appendages, holding me in place.

My tail smacked someone, and there was a curse that was drowned out by static.

Stasis overwhelmed me, and I sunk into the darkness, the pain following me for a short ways before retreating.

Wheeljack's servos grasped his short sword, as if determined to strangle it. He kept his eyes on Darkflame, mostly hidden behind Dunebreaker's large-aft frame. She was trembling ever-so-slightly,tears tracing their way down her faceplates.

Grunting, Wheeljack sheathed his sword and started for the medbay, just as Darkflame began her writhing. Her tail hit Dunebreaker's backplates, and he instantly turned, laying one massive arm across her chassis to hold her in place, the other holding her servos together to keep them from clawing his faceplates.

It'd serve the fragger right, though! Wheeljack thought, darting into the room and grasping at her tail. It smacked his face, and he swore, grabbing it firmly and holding it to his side. More bots were holding her down, grabbing her peds, servos, helm. Dunebreaker silently held her sides, keeping her pressed against the berth.

Darkflame's screams ripped through the air, the pain even greater for her with all of us holding her and aggravating her wounds.

"Hold her more still!" Ratchet ordered, two large needles grasped in each servo. "We can't!
Arcee said, grunting as she held Darkflame's jaws shut.

Dunebreaker snarled, bundling her up in his arms and holding her tightly to his chassis. Immobolized, Ratchet quickly injected her, then ordered Dunebreaker to set her back down.

Dunebreaker complied, and as he did so, Wheeljack noticed Darkflame's servos. They were bleeding, having been clenched so hard she had made herself bleed.

Ratchet quietly changed her bandages, including her servos. Wheeljack settled down on a chair nearby, determined to be with her next time she woke up.

Dunebreaker apparently had the same idea, for he settled down onto the floor. Wheeljack glared at him. "It's your fault. If you hadn't kept Ratchet from her, she wouldn't have gone through this."

The golden Predacon, while not understanding Wheeljack's words, understood the tone. He nodded, rather sorrowfully, standing and leaving the medbay.

Ignoring the twinge in his spark at his words, Wheeljack rested a servo on Darkflame's red helm. He noticed the numerous scratches that had peeled the red paint back, exposing light blue beneath. Interesting.

Idly, Wheeljack began lightly scratching at her shoulder, peeling the bright red paint back to expose a nice, light blue underneath.

He continued at it for a while longer, until recharge claimed him. When Ratchet entered the room a while later, he grinned and took a picture of Wheeljack. This will be a good thing to pass around when Wheeljack gets irritable.

The medic thought, placing two full syringes nearby.

Very good indeed!

A/N: Next chappie, we'll have some more flashbacks!

May StarClan light your path!