Disclaimer: Me no own, you know sue.

A/N: A fresh new update for you, folks! Keep the reviews comin'! They do a world of good! Especially when the dogs I'm watching leave me nice, smelly presents in the early morning. Not too happy with this chapter, but it works alright. The next chapter is better, I think ;).

Warnings: Implied torture.

Chapter Sixteen: Of Patients and Captives

It had never been said that Jenna was particularly unobservant. Neither had it been said that she was especially stupid. So why everyone was treating her like she had suddenly become so was a mystery to her. The military folks bustled around, obviously torn between caring for the mass of new refugees and whatever action was going on in the woods.

They'd all heard the booms. They'd all seen the pretty lights. Something was up. None of the military personnel seemed too chatty, though.

When Jenna saw Jeremy Fenner pass by the entrance to her tent, she spied an opportunity to enter the loop.

"Jeremy!"

He whirled at his name, looking hopeful, but at the sight of the caller he seemed to slump.

"Can I help you, Jenna? I'm kinda busy right now."

"Yes, you can actually," Jenna said, folding her hands in her lap very neatly. "You can tell me what in the blue blazes is going on out there."

"Sorry, no can do," said Jeremy.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me! I was just introduced to another sentient race from outer space that works on motor oil at the business end of a friggin' canon. What may I ask is so important that I can't know?" Jeremy stared at her with a blank frown and Jenna ground her teeth. Now that she thought about it, he never had been the talkative type. "FINE. I'll just ask Astrid."

"No you won't."

"Oh, I won't, won't I? And why not?"

"Because no one can find her!"

Jenna blinked.

Jeremy Fenner had been her neighbor for fifteen years, and while she didn't know him as well as she knew his sister, she could tell when he was joking. That face was not a joking face.

She gulped. A tremor shook itself up her spine and she finally managed to ask, "What do you mean? Is she... missing?"

"YES! Now please shut-up so I can go back to finding her!" Jeremy stomped off to rejoin the search parties and left Jenna shaking on her cot.

Astrid had just saved her life. She was the best roommate the in the world, and the brat still hadn't worn the princess dress yet. She wasn't allowed to be missing. And she certainly wasn't allowed to die. Jenna would kick her butt if she did.

.O.O.O.

Astrid woke to find herself in what she first thought was a pet carrier. The floor and ceiling were solid metal, but the walls had large holes poked in them - easily large enough to stick her arm through - and looked to be the work of large, metal fingers. The door was made of an old chain-link fence, and it was the first part of the prison that Astrid tested for weaknesses. There were none. The walls, ceiling and floor were also escape-proof. Even the holes were too small to let out anything past her shoulder. She nearly popped a joint trying to squeeze more through.

The back of her neck was a little sore, and so were her shoulder blades, but she'd had much worse, and they didn't do much to distract her from her mission. The approach of heavy footsteps and then the leering red optics that loomed down at her through the cage door were another story.

"Oh no, not you again!"

Barricade rumbled something in Cybertronian and picked up the cage so that Astrid was at eye - or rather optic - level.

"Yes, me again, squishy. Ready to die this time?"

He all but ripped the door off its hinges and thrust his long, clawed digits into the box after the girl. Dodging, ducking and weaving, Astrid managed to evade him for a few minutes, but the 'Con quickly wearied of the game and pulled his hand back. Then the box tilted and Astrid lunged to grab onto one of the holes. Her meager resistance did not impress Barricade. He plucked her from her perch very easily when there was no ground for her to run on, and once he had her in his grip he made sure to give her a very hard squeeze.

"Don't test me," he said.

Astrid didn't answer.

As the big mech left the room where her cage was kept, she began trying to piece together a mental map of the place. Anything, even the smallest detail, might help her escape... if Barricade ever set her down... alive. It didn't take them long to get to wherever they were going, though: just out one door, down a hallway, past a couple mech-sized doors, and into the third room on the right. It took Astrid all of three seconds to figure out that this must be either the control or communications room, or both. Besides the five other mechs present - three of which were apparently engaged with the various alien computers - there was a massive blank screen that took up almost all of one wall. The Decepticon leader with the monotone voice was standing in front of the screen and the nasty, feline thing from the night before was pacing and twitching at his feet. When Barricade approached, the cat-bot glared up at Astrid with its one eye and snarled. The leader didn't even spare it a glance, but held his hand out to Barricade wordlessly. Astrid was dropped from Barricade's harsh grip into that of his boss, and the moment he had her, the leader turned to face the screen, which flickered to life almost instantly with a huge image of Optimus Prime's face.

As much as she loved Optimus, Astrid felt her stomach tank at the sight of his face. She was a hostage, and hostages never did well in hostile negotiations, which this clearly was.

"Soundwave presenting demands of Decepticons," the leader rumbled. "The medic and human companion to be exchanged for remaining Allspark fragment."

For a long moment Optimus remained silent, his eyes darting briefly to the side, and Astrid guessed that the Prime was not actually alone on the other end of the transmission. For the sake of her own skin she hoped he'd say yes. For the sake of her life he hoped he said no.

"We cannot meet these demands," Prime said slowly, "but perhaps with further negotiation we can..."

"No negotiation," said Soundwave, the leader 'Con. "Decepticon demands will be met, or the hostages will be damaged."

"If we..."

"A demonstration is necessary." Astrid was set surprisingly gently on the nearest console and Soundwave took a step back. "Ravage: proceed."

Astrid spun around as the feline Decepticon - Ravage - leapt up onto the console behind her. Her eyes doubled in size and she took a step backwards before she even realized what she was doing. The thing looked like it was grinning at her, and it scratched its long claws playfully over the metal below, leaving twin sets of gauges in the otherwise smooth surface.

Try as she may, she couldn't keep the trembling out of her balled-up fists, and her clenched teeth chattered. At least she kept herself from screaming for the first few swipes.

.O.O.O.

Mirage thrashed against the restraints keeping him bound to the medical berth. "What do you slagging mean 'she's missing'?" he bellowed.

"Exactly that," said Jazz. "No one knows where she's gotten to. And with the attack out in the forest 'n' all, everyone's startin' to fear the worst. The last one to see her was that roommate of hers, and that was hours ago..."

Mirage stilled. "I think I've seen her... since then," he said.

"Really?" Jazz immediately perked up. "When? Did she come to visit ya? How long ago was that, Mirage? Do ya know where she went from here?"

"She came to see me approximately three hours ago," Mirage said. "We... had a falling out. She was angry when she left. She didn't say where she was going."

The light drained from Jazz's optics. "Slag."

Just then the twins came stumbling in, looking like they were fresh from a war zone - which in all likelihood they were. Sunstreaker looked ready to blow something up or take something out... but Sideswipe did not. The red mech was almost shaking and his optics had that wide, horrified look to them that comes from shock. Jazz was in a battle stance before they'd even reached Mirage's berth.

"Stand down, Jazz," Sideswipe said, taking a seat on the ground by the wall. "Prime just got a transmission is all."

"'Is all'?" Sunstreaker barked.

"They have Ratchet and Astrid," said Sides.

Jazz swore. "Looks like Prowl was right - again," he said. "There was a reason nobody could find her." Mirage thought that his intake valves had frozen shut, and when he finally got them to work again the air came in stuttering gasps.

"The 'Cons are demanding the Allspark fragment Prime has in exchange for the hostages," Sides continued. "Soundwave is leading them. When Prime said no..."

"The slagger sicced Ravage on Astrid," said Sunstreaker.

"Primus," Jazz whispered.

Sides had his face plates buried in his hands, like he could still see it all. "She's just a sparkling. She was screaming, and her brother was having a fit in the middle of the transmission. Lennox had to wrestle him out."

Mirage finally found the courage to ask the question weighing the heaviest on his and Jazz's processors: "Is she...?"

"She's still functioning," Sunstreaker snarled. "But Ravage won't be by the time I'm through with him."

"Soundwave stopped him before he permanently damaged her," said Sides. "But, Jazz, he said this was only a demonstration, and if Prime keeps saying no... A little organic can't take that kind of punishment for very long."

Mirage felt his energon lines run cold and his processor was stuck on a single piece of data: the last thing he'd said to her was an insult. As the other mechs continued to discuss the situation, Mirage turned his face away and stared at the wall.

.O.O.O.

It had been a total of one hour and seventeen minutes by human standards since Ratchet had come back online. It had been a total of one hour and sixteen point five minutes since he'd begun demanding to see his fellow prisoner. And he was still going.

Unfortunately, he was sure that he would've gotten more of a response out of Soudwave than from the sparkless camera watching him.

"Where is Astrid?" he bellowed. "I demand to see her! Do you have any idea how fragile organics are?"

The red light on the camera continued blinking, unfazed.

"What good is a dead hostage?"

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

"Either bring Astrid to me or let me go to her, you sparkless slaggers!"

Blink. Blink. Blink.

More than anything else in the world, Ratchet wished for his biggest, heaviest wrench at that moment.

Just as he was priming his vocal processor for another round of abuse, the flat grey door opened, and Barricade stepped in... carrying Astrid.

"It's about Primus-forsaken time! Give her to me," Ratchet ordered, extending his bound hands.

Barricade eyed him coolly. With a snort, he held out his hand and unceremoniously dropped his cargo, forcing Ratchet to dive in order to catch her. Astrid yelped when her bloody side made contact with the medic's fingers, and she curled up on herself protectively. After a few moments of staring at the clawed, red-stained girl in his palms, Ratchet's cooling fans were forced to work overtime as his temper flared.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"

But Barricade was already gone, the door once again locked, and the camera continued blinking down at him. Immediately, Ratchet's attention shifted from the closed door to the huddled patient in his hands. He hummed and clicked, letting the vibrations carry all the way down through his fingers. After a few minutes of the soothing massage, Ratchet managed to coax Astrid into uncurling. When he saw the damage he barely restrained himself from cursing loudly and undoing all of his hard work.

Only two sets of claw marks looked like they might be serious, and a deep bite on her upper arm definitely needed stitches. The rest of the gashes were hardly more than mild abrasions: painful but not lethal. But their purpose was obvious - they had been designed to cause extreme pain. They had tortured her, probably to pressure Prime into meeting their demands - whatever those might be.

"Ratchet."

"Yes, little one, it's me," he said.

Astrid shivered in his palm, and Ratchet wished to Primus that the 'Cons had left even one blanket in his storage compartments. "It hurts." Again she shivered. "And it's cold." She snuggled into his palm. "Mmmm, but you're warm."

Ratchet watched in surprise as she pressed herself closer to his metal plating, and his thoughts began to shift from warrior to medic.

"Yes," he mused. "I am warm, aren't I?"

Astrid did not respond, but he hadn't really expected her to. Poor sparkling. Those gashes looked like Ravage's work. It was a lucky thing that they'd stopped bleeding on their own, because he had nothing to bid a wound with. There were no bandages, disinfectant or even water in the small cell. It would be a miracle if the girl escaped infection. But at least he could do something about the cold.

Carefully, Ratchet shifted to a position on his back - not an easy feat to accomplish with bound hands and feet while balancing an organic in one's palm. Once he'd arranged himself he set Astrid on his chest plate, directly over his spark. Humans, he understood, huddled together for both warmth and comfort in extreme environments and dangerous situations. It was the most he could do to offer his own body heat to the trembling organic, and it was only logical to place her where the most heat was generated.

From her new vantage point, Astrid could look straight into Ratchet's face and vice versa, and he watched her intently as she sought a comfortable position. When she settled her hands on his chasis to help balance herself, Ratchet flinched. Slag, her hands were cold.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked.

"No, no, dear, you just need to warmed up a little is all." He frowned at the results of his latest scan. "Your body temperature is several degrees below normal."

"Well," Astrid said, "I guess that's to be expected. I don't even have a jacket, and there's snow outside."

By way of answer, Ratchet raised a hand and draped it over top of the girl, like a tent and an insulating blanket in one. "Just relax, Astrid. You'll be warm again in no time."

"Ratchet," Astrid mumbled, already beginning to fade with the effects of the gentle heat. "They want the Allspark shard. I was there when they commed Optimus."

Ratchet's hand stiffened, nearly clenched, but he relaxed it quickly, hopefully before the girl noticed. "And what was his response?"

But Astrid was already asleep. Ratchet sighed. It didn't matter, really. He could already guess what Prime's answer had been.

And he could guess what repercussions were in store for the two of them.

A/N: So, should I be grabbing a shield?

Replies to those without accounts:

GodisGod!Iamnot: Thank you for your reviews! It's AWESOME that you reviewed even when you know I couldn't reply (since I'd already posted the next chapter). Here's your new chapter! There might be another one out by the end of week if I get enough reviews! Thanks again!

Sammy J: Thanks for the review! Ratchet's not dead yet. I like him, too. Your begging paid off, because here's another update! Don't worry, you're not annoying: I've been wound up on pop before, too.

i do not speak sports cars: Thanks for the review! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, despite the cliff hanger. Hope to hear from you again!