A steady wind whipped through the trees of a residential neighborhood; rustling the leaves rather loudly and breaking the quiet. Heavy rainfall the previous night produced many large puddles along the sidewalks; reflecting a world that seemed to hunch over, due to the weight of the cold water. To add to this, dark clouds blotted the sky; obscuring any of its normal blue color, and hinting at the likely chance of more rain.

But despite the overcast, dreariness of the day, none of the ecological disappointments seemed to deter Jazz as he, in his Porsche form, cruised the streets. He had no reason to be sad, as he happily bopped along to the local radio stations. The mech was heading off to pick up Kayla (as well as her mother) as usual, and he was already humming in anticipation. As he, and everyone else had noticed by now, the girl had a way with bringing a smile to anyone's face, no matter what the situation, and he, himself, couldn't think of a world without her. She just…completed him. What kind of adventure would they have today? he wondered.

Just then, a familiar house of red brick came into view, and the saboteur inwardly smiled; knowing his best friend was awaiting him…or so he thought. As the car neared the home, the Autobot was slowly able to get a better look at his destination. Due to the mentioned, overcast weather, it caused the house to be cast in a much different light. Usually, a warm, beautiful sunrise would project a warm glow on the bricks; the reddish hues sending an air of happiness and welcomeness. Not so today, for the cold rainwater seemed to make the house cold as well; the clouds making dark shadows on the porch and lawn. It was as if the portrait of the home was literally in its blue period.

To add to the confusion, Mrs. Matthews was standing by her usual spot at the mailbox…but only her. Normally, both her and her daughter would be side by side, awaiting his arrival…but here she was; alone at the curb and arms folded as a makeshift shield against the breezy chill.

"Dat's weird", Jazz thought, "Maybe Kay's still gettin' ready." But peculiar sight aside, the Porsche, never the less, pulled up to the sidewalk and rolled his window down; revealing his holodriver. Giving a smile and friendly wave, he greeted, "Mornin', Mrs. Matthews; ya' guys ready ta' roll?"

The driver's smile lessened a little when the woman didn't make a move. She merely stood there; a far away look in her eyes as she seemed to be contemplating something. After what seemed like an eternity, her gaze finally shifted to the car in front of her, as if she just noticed he was there. With a small sigh, she muttered, "Um…hi, Jazz."

Gone was the grin and in was a look of puzzlement as the saboteur gave her a closer look. One arm was draped over the mailbox as she stared at the ground; waiting for him to answer, he guessed. So he did, "Whatsa' matta'? Are-ya' guys okay?"

The mother's eyes darted around, but were still trained on the ground…as if she were nervous to say anything. A twinge of worry ran through the Porsche as he watched her awkward movements…what could've come over her all of a sudden? Was it something he did? He prayed it wasn't. He was about to ask when she finally answered; albeit very strained, "Kayla's…not-coming today…"

The driver cocked his head to one side, "Oh…" was all he could say at the moment. That was it? Well that was no problem; there were a couple times the teen couldn't make it. What possibly made the mother worried about it now? After a moment of silence, he reassured, "Well, if dat's all, dat's alright." But his words seemed to cause little effect, for the woman merely shifted on her feet and cleared her throat. Another pause, and he asked, "Is da' lil' lady sick?"

Mrs. Matthews peered up for just a second and met Jazz's concerned face; holo-driver face anyway. A second later, it was back to the interesting ground again, as she stuttered out, rather quickly, "N-no, no…it's…no."

The Porsche went uncharacteristically silent at the awkward statement; something was not right here. He hoped for some clearer answers than this, but he daren't force her to talk. But what could be the problem? He never saw her act like this before, not even when she first met him. Maybe with a little prodding…with a shrug, he offered, "I kin' still take ya' ta' work."

But the woman shook her head, "Thanks, but…I'm not going either…" A cold shiver ran through her as she attempted to find her voice again. With a sigh, she finally managed out, "Um…we're-actually…going away-for a while…just got some…um-family business to take care of…"

The driver nodded his head, "Well, I'm not mad or nothin'; dat's jus' fine…kin' I ask how long?"

Mrs. Matthews' gaze went to the sky this time as she shrugged, "Um…probably a-week…two weeks tops." Her eyes finally fell upon the Porsche as she quickly added in, "I mean-we have that communicator you gave us…we'll call when we get back…"

Jazz stared at the mother a moment; trying to sort out what he just heard. It wasn't that he distrusted her; certainly not, but it was obvious there was something she wasn't telling him. Whatever it was, judging by her strained movements and tone, he knew it wasn't his place to ask; at least, not at the moment. Although he was a bit skeptical of this weird attitude change in her, he managed to shrug it off when he reasoned that maybe he'd find out more once they returned. With that logic in mind, he answered, "Well, alright den'…jus' tell Kayla I said 'hi', an' have a safe trip."

Mrs. Matthews sighed and nodded, "T-thanks…"

With nothing else said, the saboteur did a quick K-turn, and drove back down the street once more; the woman watching him go all the while. When he finally disappeared from view, she slowly turned around and made her way back inside her house; her gaze never leaving the ground.

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Although the depressing rain had cleared up a tad in the past week or so, the sky still remained cloudy and dark; the wind carrying a chill that sent shivers down Kayla's spine as she waited at the curb with her mother. Thankfully, relief came in the form of a black and white Porsche, which gracefully pulled alongside the sidewalk; doors opening on their own accord. However, not a word was spoken as Mrs. Matthews and her younger double both climbed into the backseats, with guitar in tow, and settled in as their Autobot friend drove off.

There was a short bout of silence until Jazz broke it by tuning in to the local radio station; for background noise as always. His holo-driver sported a grin as he practically sang, "Mornin', ladies."

Kayla's hands remained in her lap; head bowed slightly. There was a short pause before she sighed, "…hey…"

The driver's smile faded slightly at her unusual apprehensiveness. Normally, the girl would begin to discuss the day's schedule, their assigned duties, and then their usual music talk with new songs she learned and such…what could make a talkative musician go so quiet? He then remembered her mother's similar reaction not two weeks before…speaking of whom, oddly enough, it was her who called to say they were home, and not the teen as he had expected. Perhaps he'd get the answers he was hoping for on the second go 'round. With a casual lilt, he replied, "I'm sure glad dem' weeks are over. Almost went crazy; I missed ya' guys."

Mrs. Matthews gave off a very, tiny smirk, "…so did we…"

The Autobot's internal sensors looked the two over with much inquisitiveness. The woman looked everywhere but at the holo-driver, while her daughter opted to leaning her head against the window. Apparently, they must have caught his hidden question, for they said nothing else. Now the 'Bot was truly vexed; he certainly wasn't lying to them; he really did miss them-a lot-especially Kayla. He deeply missed her skillful playing, her beautiful singing, and her cheerful attitude…and as of now, he still missed it, seeing as how it was definitely not in tact at the moment. Maybe he could liven things up if he changed the subject a tad. As he splashed through a large puddle, he chuckled, "Hopin' dis' weather clears up soon; had so much rain da' past couple days, thought Noah's Ark'd go by…never rains, but it pours."

No such luck, for the two red heads merely sighed and shrugged. Jazz almost sighed himself; he was really at a loss now. What happened while they were gone? Who were these two, and what did they do with the real mother and daughter? Unfortunately, he'd have to ponder the mom half of the puzzle later, for a familiar bus stop came into view. Coming to a gentle halt, Mrs. Matthews kissed Kayla goodbye, then quickly stuttered a "thank you" to the saboteur as she exited the car without another word. The 'Bot gave a goodbye beep of his own as he sped off down a side street and back onto the main road.

That left the two musicians all alone as the Porsche bulleted towards the Ark. The teen slouched further into the seats; yawning and choosing to remain quiet. The driver's gaze shifted from the road to his charge in the back, and he looked at her with a wistful frown; perhaps he'd have better luck with her. Putting on a smile once more, knowing she'd know by tone of voice, he asked, "So how's ma' best friend doin'?"

The girl's unseeing eyes darted around, however, she barely moved a muscle. After a long pause, she finally shrugged and mumbled, "I'm…hangin' in there…"

The saboteur cast a look of worry once more; he wasn't expecting that answer. Very gently, he asked, "Are ya' alright?" When his friend gave an indifferent shrug, he thought for a moment, and then it dawned on him, "Oh…musician's block, ain't it?"

The guitarist bowed her head even more, to the point her long, red hair was almost covering her face. Another pause, and she muttered, "…somethin' like that…"

For once in a lifetime, Jazz didn't know what to say…mainly because he didn't know what was wrong. The teen never acted like this before; what in the blue Pit was going on? Well, he'd find out, one way or another; no way was his best friend going to be sad forever. For now, he'd let Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe" combat the uncomfortable silence in the car. For the rest of the ride, the radio was the only sound heard.

It was only a few minutes later, that the Porsche finally arrived at the Ark; stopping once inside the entrance. He opened his door up wide so Kayla could easily slide out with her guitar, and she did…but again, the girl said nothing. Once she was out, the Autobot transformed and began to walk beside her, since she was already trudging away before he even finished changing. But soon, he leaned in and tapped her on the shoulder, making her stop. Before she could ask, he carefully plucked the instrument from her grasp, explaining, "I gotta' go on patrol pretty soon, so I'll take ya' guitar to ma' quarters. It'll be in da' usual spot." To that, the teen merely nodded. From the level he had leaned in, it was then the saboteur noticed the slight bags under her eyes. It was hard to tell, with her sunglasses resting low on the bridge of her nose, but a close look revealed otherwise. The 'Bot tilted his head a bit in concern, "Are ya' sure ya' alright?"

The red head gave a nervous cough as she unfolded her cane, "Y-yeah…um…I, uh-better get to work…" With nothing else said, she started walking down the hall once more, leaving her best friend to just stand there and watch her go; a mixed look of worry and confusion in his features.
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Prowl was typing away on Teletraan-One, when a familiar tapping sound reached his audios, but one he hadn't heard in a while. Turning in his seat, he peered down to see Kayla making her way up to the console; human-sized data pads tucked under one arm, with her other hand doing the cane work. Immediately, he greeted, "Good morning; it would appear you're back from your trip." The girl gave a solemn nod, and he continued, "Well, I'm sure the others will be happy to know you've returned."

"That's sweet…" the musician muttered as she set the data pads down, "…it's nice to be back…" Laying a hand on the console for support, she slowly removed her sunglasses to blearily rub her dead eyes; letting loose a tired yawn in the process.

The tactician raised a non-existent eyebrow, "Are you ill?"

The girl's head went up a tad, "Hmm…?" She then seemed to finally register the question, and she waved a hand, mumbling, "Oh, n-no, um…just haven't-gotten a lot of sleep lately…"

The police car rubbed his chin, "If you're that tired, why not take a nap first? Perhaps Ratchet could supply you with a sedative as well if you're having trouble. And you needn't feel guilty for resting right now; it's only logical to do."

Being one of Mr. Spock's protégé's practically, it was interesting to hear some emotion come out of the 'Bot, like his present concern, and it humbled the teenager so to listen to his reaction to such a simple answer. With a shake of the head, she sighed, "T-thanks, but…I'll be okay…just need some caffeine is all…" It was then she finally turned in his general direction, and gave a smug expression, "So…what'd I miss?"

Seemingly satisfied, the second in command turned his attention back to the screen, "Well, thanks to Wheeljack's ingenuity, and some unexpected added variables, we've finally made a breakthrough in counteracting the Decepticons' EMP shield." He then looked to the teen standing silently next to him, "I have a few extra findings that need to be given to Optimus."

Kayla ran a hand down her face; five data pads was a few? But not the one to complain, she merely gave a tired nod and muttered, "I'm on it…"

Without further question, the girl raised both her hands and swept them over the buttons; found the familiar pattern, and carefully began to type. Thanks to both Prowl and Chip's teachings, she barely had any trouble in slipping each data pad into a slot, one by one, and beginning the downloading process. The whole time, the police car watched her; mainly to make sure she didn't make a mistake, but also with a tiny bit of pride. Granted, he was slightly surprised at her wish to learn how to operate the computer; wondering how in the world he was going to teach her, but she soon taught him her methods of memorization. With both that, and some assistance from Chip, the 'Bot, in due time, had her helping with communications and the log books. Both were arguably the most boring jobs around, even for him at times, but the teen would have none of it; happy to help out in any way, and cracking one liners or conversations to make the task go faster. Either way, she simply made things more fun.

But as the tactician observed the musician at the moment, bearing the aforementioned findings in mind, he was soon alerted to the long bout of silence between them…a rather tense silence at that. With practiced, swift movements, she dutifully gathered all of Prowl's notes; downloaded the information, then removed each data pad to be stacked in a neat pile. But what had caught his attention was the way in which she had carried out the task; silent, and without conversation, as if she were a droid merely doing its job and nothing more. No words, no laughs, no questions-nothing. The Autobot understood the girl's tiredness, but this seemed like almost a personality reversal…and that certainly wasn't logical.

The tactician's thoughts were broken when Kayla heaved a sigh, "Got all your notes here; I'll get em' to Optimus right away…" Tucking the stack of data pads under one arm, she turned on her heel and carefully made her way out of the room. Prowl gave her a peculiar stare as she left; reasoning that without further information, he couldn't make a conclusive judgment…but admitting his slight discomfort over what could've come over her.

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"Hey, hey, hey!" Sideswipe called out as he barreled down a corridor; happy as a kid at Christmas.
His red haired target stopped in her tracks; not turning around. With a sigh, she muttered, "Hi, Sides…"

The Autobot didn't seem to notice her tone of voice as he ran up to her; excited just to see her again. For the rest of their comrades, it was a peculiar thing. Ever since that unforgettable day the musician gave the prankster a taste of his own medicine, one would've believed that Sides would've held a grudge; not so. Although he was angered in the moment it happened, he later was able to take the joke in stride. He reasoned that if the girl not only had the gall to prank him, but be able to actually pull it off, she was okay in his book. The odd pair was on good terms since then, so much in that the 'Bot actually asked for her help a few times in pranking various crew members. She was always happy to assist…so long as it was a joke that wouldn't land her in the brig. That said, the red Lamborghini came to a stop beside her; grinning from audio to audio, "Kayla! Just the girl I'm lookin' for!" He rubbed his hands in a mischievous fashion, "You got back just in time, 'cause I got a killer prank to try on Sunny!"

The teen still refused to turn; however, her body noticeably shuddered as she tried to find her voice, "S-Sides…"

But the mech continued to deliver his pitch as he knelt down, "I figured I could use your help."

The girl raised her voice a tad, and said pointedly in a huff, "Sides…no."

The Lambo twin was busy digging in his subspace pocket when he did a double take at her remark. Of course there were times she'd turn down a prank (for penalty reasons, obviously), but she at least had to know what the joke was, first. "Aww, come on", he whined; proceeding to unsubspace a small pouch (by human standards), "All ya' gotta' do is take this bag of marbles, and-"

"Sides", Kayla cut him off, as she finally turned in his general direction. For a split second, there was a flash of annoyment across her face, but it just as quickly faded away to something more like exhaustion. The mech stopped short in his "debriefing" of sorts at her sudden outburst, and merely listened as she managed out, "Look…I…would love to help you prank your bro-any day of the week…" She then sucked in a breath, adding in, "Just…not this week, okay?"

With that, the red head started walking again, leaving Sideswipe to stare after her; taken aback at her rather stressed out answer. What was with her? Did Sunstreaker prank her and blame it on him? He sure hoped not…naah; it couldn't be, or she would've been carrying one of the yellow Lambo's signature "prank scars", for lack of a better term. She probably just woke up on the wrong side of the recharge birth-er, bed. Well, he knew how to cure that. Rising to his feet, the prankster had no trouble in catching up to the girl and keeping pace with her. With a chuckle, he started, "Ya' know, Sparkplug told me this great joke; these two cops walk into a bar, and…"

But Kayla interrupted him again, with a soft groan, and mumbled, "I'm not in the mood…"

One could see the question mark pop over the red twin's head as he stopped in his tracks; letting the musician continue onward without him. He watched her go; staring for a long moment, before trying one last thing, "…pull my finger…?"

The teen's only answer was to keep walking.
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Bumblebee had just gotten off his patrol shift; smiling at the thought of a nice, long recharge, when he heard it. He had decided to take a short cut back to his quarters; using a hallway not passed by many, when an oddly familiar sound reached his audios. It was very soft; echoing along the corridors like a sullen ghost; drawing in anyone in the vicinity. And that's precisely what happened as the curious Minibot decided to follow.

It was the hums of guitar strings that caught his attention, and of course, that could only mean one person. With that in mind, the Beetle didn't hesitate in listening very closely; trying to determine the source of the melody. It had been over two weeks since he'd last seen the red haired musician, and now, word had gotten around that she'd returned. But he had been on long shifts the past few days, so he hadn't been able to give a warm "hello"; now was his chance. With much skill and patience, the Volkswagen crept down the hallway and quietly snuck a glance in each doorway, trying to find her. Normally, he would've called out, but he didn't want to interrupt her piece, lest she stop playing altogether.

It only took a few minutes, and Bumblebee soon found himself peeking into a guest room that was usually gathering dust. Just like he suspected, there sat Kayla; on the floor, since the nearby recharge birth was too high. She had her back to him, yet her black and white guitar lying in her lap clearly stuck out from either side of her frame. However, the oddity was the sight of her sitting in a rarely used quarter; all by herself, no less. Why wasn't she hanging out with the others?

And there was another peculiar thing; being so close, the Autobot could now hear the strumming quite clearly…and it wasn't anything he heard her play before. Most of her melodies were either hard rock, soft, or sweet, making him recall the time he and his friends were gracefully lulled to sleep in the med bay by her musical talent. With that in mind, it was surprising to hear a different tone of rhythm come from her. She strummed the instrument with the same, practiced grace; however, the tune that wafted out was very soft, and equally slow, with a very…somber edge to it. It seemed to make the room even colder than it was, coupled with the girl's movements void of any energetic delivery. Keeping quiet so as not to disturb her, the yellow Minibot listened to her equally soft singing.

One by one
I suffer you gladly
One by one
You're all I don't need

And you couldn't see, the wood from the tree
Your eyes are unkind, so don't look at me
And all that you know, is written in stone

One by one
I suffer you badly
One by one
You're all I don't need

And life on the road, makes you feel old
Remember the time, when friends were around
When friends were around-when we were all friends

Is this the…way to be?

The protective lids on Bumblebee's optics noticeably drooped at hearing the sad song. What was wrong? he wondered. Before he could stop himself, he spoke up, "Kayla?"

The teen shuddered a tad, and instantly, the music came to a rather abrupt stop; a deafening silence following after. The 'Bot silently cursed for taking her by surprise; he had no intention to scare her. But the musician gathered herself quickly, and slowly turned her head slightly, "…Bee?"

What are you doing here, was the question he actually heard. Rubbing his head in embarrassment, he stammered, "I just-overheard."

The red head didn't move; only blinked her dead eyes a few times, "…oh…"

Seeing as how she wasn't attempting to continue the conversation, Bee stepped forward a bit; asking gently, "What're you doing here?"

The musician took a deep breath and turned away once more, muttering, "…wanted to practice…" She then shrugged, "…not bother anyone…"

Not bother? Since when was she a bother? Everyone liked to hear her play; even grouches like Sunstreaker, Brawn, and Gears would drop by for a spell. Unless she thought that maybe they wouldn't care to hear a more depressing tune. But what could be the cause? She was generally a happy girl; just one of those days maybe? But that didn't explain the absence of another musician she was always with. To that, he looked around, "…where's Jazz?"

"On patrol…" she said; matter of factly. There was a long pause, before she turned her head once more, and mumbled, "I'll, um…catch up with ya' later…I know ya' need rest after your shift…"

And that was that, apparently, for she turned back around and said nothing more. Bumblebee stared for a long moment at this unexpected apprehensiveness; wondering whether he was inclined to ask or not. Obviously, he was curious at this change of her being, but in the end, he decided against it-he knew when someone wanted some alone time, and he daren't risk the consequences; whatever they may be. With that, he merely shrugged, "Well…o-kay then…" Slowly, but hesitantly, the Beetle backed up a few steps, before turning around and trudging to his quarters; the girl remaining in the room.
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"I'm tellin' ya', somebody is setting me up", Sideswipe grumbled as he practically emptied the energon dispenser, "Someone must've pranked her good, and framed me for it; now she hates me."

"Come on", Bumblebee said from his seat at a table, "I seriously don't think she's the kind of person who holds a grudge, at least not in that sense. Besides, you guys kinda' called a truce. If she thought it was you, she woulda' been on your back in a second."

The girl in question was a certain red head, who had caused a bit of a stir amongst her Autobot friends. It had been two days since Kayla's return, and it didn't take long for others to start noticing her uncharacteristic, down in the dumps, attitude change. She did her duties with no words exchanged; used hallways not normally traveled, and all music had ceased since Bee's interruption the other day. However, the causes still remained a mystery, and quite frankly, it was driving her closer friends up the wall. Presently, three possible theories were being called out as the yellow Beetle and red Lamborghini obtained their morning energon.

"I still don't get it", the prankster mused as he sat in the chair opposite the Minibot, "We're her friends…why won't she tell us what's wrong?"

The Volkswagen's optics seemed to drill into the table as he pondered the question, "Prowl thinks it's a lack of sleep."

The Lambo twin looked at his comrade as if he was just slapped in the face, "What?! That's total slag! He might as well mistake me for Ratchet if he actually believes that!"

Bee merely shrugged, "Well, it doesn't sound too far off…she did kinda' seem tired when I talked to her."

Sides downed the rest of his drink, then stared the 'Bot right in the optics, as he said in a rather snappy tone, "Alright then, Nostradamus; let's hear your ground-breaking theory."

The Beetle tapped a finger on the table top as he thought; not bothering to correct the twin that Nostradamus made predictions, not theories. There was a long pause, before he scratched his head as he answered, "Well…m-maybe it's…just-one of those days…"

But Sideswipe was already shaking his head, "Bee, nobody has a bad day for over two weeks straight." The Minibot was about to retort when the prankster stopped him, "I know what you're gonna' ask, but I know this because Jazz told me. He said her mom was acting weird the day she said they weren't coming; now Kayla's acting the same way." The mech tapped the table for emphasis, "I know I'm not the smartest guy around here, but I know for a fact that something must've happened in those two weeks to make her go from happy rock star, to gloomy stick in the mud." A pause, and then, "This looks suspicious…"

To that, the Volkswagen actually smirked, "Now you sound like Red Alert."

"I didn't just hear that", the Lamborghini spat rather quickly. He then leaned in and replied in a more hushed tone, "Which, by the way; no one says a thing to him. Primus forbid he gets wind of her sudden depression, and he'll start ranting about how the Decepticons contacted Martians hiding in Saigon, and have replaced Kayla with a clone, while the real one is in Area 51 somewhere."

The Beetle let out a laugh at his friend's exaggeration of their nervous, Chief of Security. But his chuckles soon faded away as his face turned more serious, "…you don't think…?"

The two stared a moment, then laughed as they both said at the same time, "Pfft, naaah…"

After that, Bumblebee finished the rest of his energon as the chuckles dissolved into more silence. The two remained that way for a while; contemplating the known facts and possible theories that were being thrown around. Eventually, the Minibot spoke up with a concerned lilt to his voice, "…I really am worried about her, though…"

Sideswipe nodded his head in agreement, "…bet Jazz is havin' a field day with this…"

The Beetle rested his head in his hand as he thought, "Believe me, he's the most worried out of all of us…he said he's trying to drop the hint to her, but she still won't talk…said he's gonna' try and talk to her when she gets a chance."

The Lamborghini rubbed his optics and groaned, "Now why didn't we just do that in the first place?" He started to rise to his feet, "Jazz won't have to wait; I'll ask her myself."

But just then, a Western-style voice was heard from behind, "If ya' gonna' ask the darlin' that bluntly, ya' beder' not."

The prankster jumped slightly at being startled, and turned to see Ironhide leaning against the doorframe; arms crossed. There was a brief pause, before the mech finally spoke, "Um…how long've you been standing there?"

"Long enough", the red van replied as he walked up to the younger 'Bots before him. Like most of the others, he wasn't present the day Kayla was welcomed on the team, but he was quickly introduced a few days later, and he had to admit, the kid had both wit and grit. Anybody who had the nerve to spit in Megatron's face was cool with him, so the early recognition of her strengths made him mostly unfazed of her handicap. And although he wasn't a big music fanatic, he, admittedly, became rather fond of Johnny Cash thanks to her. ("He sounds kinda' like you", she said at one point.) So, when the oldest warrior of the team first learned of her sudden obliqueness lately, and then overheard his comrades' conversation and what they intended to do, he knew he had to go up to bat for the girl. Stopping in front of the two, he continued, "Thar's an old, Earth sayin' that curiosity killed th' cat. If ya' really wanna' know, then let th' answer come'n its own time."

Sides flung his arms open, and said in defense, "But we can't beat around the bush forever!"

"Ya' won't hav' to", Ironhide remained firm, "If th' darlin's been sad for a while, chances are, she'll tell us soon."

"How do you know?" Bumblebee asked.

The red van turned to him, "Years a' experience, Bee. I've seen similar things happen, an' we don't wanna' upset her more than she already is." He then addressed both of them, "Leave th' gal be…if somethin's botherin' her, she'll tell us when she's good n' ready, an' on her own terms."

The Volkswagen and Lamborghini gave an absent nod; Hide had made it clear that was that for the time being, and they daren't cross the hardened warrior. With nothing else said, the three left for their designated posts.
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Jazz was finally at the end of his rope; he was going to ask her.

However, the means of going about it was the challenge. Such was this that the mech, in a rare moment, had no music playing on his cranial receiver. But the silence, for once, didn't faze him, for he was too lost in his own thoughts to register it in the first place. All his focus was on his best friend, who had seemingly become a whole different person in a short amount of time.

It was now three days since Kayla's return, but to him, it felt more like three years. In another rare moment, he cursed his own duties for keeping him away from the Ark for most of those days; ensuring no chances to sit down and have a talk with the teenager. Granted, he still picked up both the girl and her mother every day, but their less than tactful conversations revealed nothing. Little by little, Mrs. Matthews was starting to speak a bit more than a few words, but even then, it sounded like she was doing it for appearance sake…but the girl remained in the same state.

What was going on?

Thank Primus for the rest of the Autobots, for they were able to shed a little more light on the issue…or at least describe her strange behavior in a tad more detail than a morning drive could provide. But between the others' reports, and the saboteur's own observations, it was no mystery that something was majorly wrong with her. For him, this went far beyond wonder and concern.
He was worried.

No words, far off hallways, sad music, then no music…the mech was at a loss. He would never force anyone to do something they hated, and he prayed it wouldn't come to this…but he feared he had no other choice. His logic told him he couldn't help her if he didn't know what was going on, so if flat out asking her was the only way to go, he had to do it.

But his emotions greatly outweighed that logic.

As Jazz slowly trudged down the orange corridors, he attempted to rehearse how he was going to converse exactly. He went line by line; every word chosen with great care. It took a long while (and a few dozen passes about the halls), but after what seemed like an eternity, the Porsche finally came up with something tolerable. Now, all he had to do was find her. No more worrying; no more withdrawal; he was getting clear answers once and for all.

And no matter what it was, he'd be there for her.

The 'Bot was looking mostly at the floor; contemplating the fateful conversation, when a faint, but distinct tapping sound reached his audios. Glancing upwards, he immediately thanked Primus for his luck. In the same hallway as him, Kayla could be spotted a far way ahead, thanks to her aqua blue shirt and long, red hair. Immediately, he began to quicken his pace; wanting to close the gap before she got away.

Well, here it goes…

But just then, a certain something would see to it that the girl remained out of his reach, at least for the moment. The saboteur was about to call out to the musician, when he noticed something stark white, light, and flat, come loose from her back jean pocket, and slowly float to the floor with barely a sound…a piece of paper.

It was folded…rather neatly as well, as Jazz's gargantuan feet came to rest in front of where it landed. The mech immediately paused in his trot to kneel down and pluck the paper off the floor to scrutinize it more. And apparently, his actions were with skillful silence, for Kayla never seemed to notice he was trudging behind her. Upon rising to his feet, he looked ahead to find that the red head had disappeared around the corner-darn it.

Jazz let out a long sigh as he decided to focus more on the mysterious paper first. Only then did a flash of something catch his optics. There was a reflective sticker of some kind on one of the crease lines; gold and shiny, with very small indentations on it. He had to squint a little and put his visor on the highest magnification setting, but soon, he was able to make out the circle of stars, the shield, and an eagle bearing arrows in one talon; olive branches in the other…the Seal of the President.
And the line going across it indicated the seal had been broken already.

His curiosity perked, the 'Bot, as carefully and precisely as he could, managed to poke his enormous fingers around the paper, and slowly, but surely, unfold it. After that was accomplished, he, once again, had to make a recalibration of his visor and optic sensors in order to make out the ridiculously small print on something, to him, were the size of a postage stamp. But his patience paid off, and soon, he managed to decipher the elegant-looking words.

It seemed to be a letter of some kind, he deduced, as he read in silence.

Dear Matthews family,

The United States Military, in tandem with our investigative departments and sub-divisions, present this letter to you on behalf of Captain Peter Matthews and his Company. It was very recently that the Captain and his Company were given orders to be sent to the front lines for battle. The team fought valiantly, and the mission was a success. But unfortunately, our victory came at a high cost. It deeply saddens us to make such a report, but we-

Whatever else was written on that page remained a blur to Jazz, as all of his first attempts at a conversation went out the proverbial window in an instant. It didn't matter, for no amount of preparation could've prepared him for what he was about to discover. In fact, the whole note seemed to ooze away, leaving but one sentence…a sentence that, upon recognition, made his mouth hang open, his optics widen behind his visor, and his spark run utterly cold and sink.

We regret to inform you that Captain Peter Matthews was killed in the line of duty.

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AN: Remember way back in "Guitar Hero" when I said I couldn't tell you anything about Kayla's dad until the sequel?

THIS is why...

And I know this was a long chapter, but I just couldn't find a good stopping place, so...just bear with it.