Sorry for the wait! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I appreciate any and all feedback you might have for me.

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:Drift to Optimus. Optimus, do you copy?:

Optimus drove past an algae-coated shipwreck as opened a private channel to receive the uplink. :I am here, Drift. What is your status?:

:The Dinobots and I have reached Griffin Rock: the ninja-bot informed him coolly. :We have begun our reconnaissance of the island. We are not alone, however.:

Optimus felt his spark tighten in sudden concern though his vocals did not betray him. :Decepticons?:

He heard the rare smile in Drift's voice print as the ex-Neutral corrected him. :No, sir. While few humans remain, the island seems to be mainly populated by Autobots. Your Autobots, in fact.:

The pressure around Optimus' spark lessened dramatically, but worry still niggled at the forefront of his processor. :Are all of them still living?: he pressed.

Optimus had lost thousands of Autobots throughout the War for Cybertron, and he didn't even want to remember all of those he sent on missions he knew they would not return from. It was as harrowing a concept then as it was now. He had watched many of his soldiers perish before him, their names and faceplates imprinted into his memory banks to this day. However, the team he founded upon arriving on Earth had become more of a family than anything else. He did not wish to risk losing them as he had lost countless others.

Fortunately, Drift humored him and his new found paranoia.

:As far as I can tell, they are all living. The one designated 'Arcee' is leading me to the rest of the Autobots, who thought we were approaching Decepticons by our radio silence. I have since corrected them, but my reputation precedes me. I advise you proceed with caution, sir.:

Optimus could not keep the relief from his voice print now, and he thanked the ninja-bot.

:They are waiting by the western shore, sir: Drift continued. :It may be best to warn the others.:

:I agree, Drift: Optimus responded, suddenly all too aware of the bickering going on between the four Autobots behind him. :We shall see you soon. Be sure to remain alert.:

:Very well, sir: Drift said, and terminated the connection. Almost instantly, Wheeljack opened his own line of communication with his commander.

:What was that about, Prime?: the Wrecker asked, observant as always.

Optimus expanded the connection to include the other Autobots before answering. :Drift has just contacted me with information regarding his and the Dinobots' arrival in Griffin Rock.:

:Ooh, what'd he say?:

:Are there others? Cons?:

:Is Bulk alive?:

The headlights of Ironhide's massive alt-mode flashed warningly in the murk. :Shut it, you three. Optimus ain't done talkin'.:

:Thank you, Ironhide: Optimus said before continuing in his usual grave timbre. :And yes, there is more of our kind upon the island. My team and others. The Decepticons have yet to locate them, or us.:

A chorus of whoops and hollers reached Optimus across the open channel, and Ironhide's attempts at calming them now were rather half-sparked.

:What does this mean, sir?: Sideswipe asked as they rounded a coral bed.

:Can we approach the island?: Sunstreaker requested as well.

:Without scaring the fleshies?: Ironhide pointed out.

Optimus was heartened by their concern. It had been some time since they had last been together, and yet working as a unit again had occurred almost seamlessly and to see such familiar faces after so long was amazing in the Prime's opinion. Had he been in bipedal mode, Optimus would have smiled.

:The humans still residing on the island have been made aware of our existence and know that we mean them no harm. We may remain on Griffin Rock without disguises, although we still must tread carefully.:

:All right!: Sideswipe crowed, and both he and his twin fell back to speak excitedly in private. Wheeljack, however, left Ironhide's side and drove up to join the Prime.

:So everything's peachy with the Rescue Bots?:

:How did you become aware of their existence?: Optimus responded after a moment, surprise in his voice print.

:Tapping into your outgoing transmissions isn't as hard you think. So? Can they handle the 'Cons that are sure to come down on their heads?:

Optimus was quiet for many long moments, and Wheeljack snorted.

:That bad?:

:The Rescue Bots have never participated in conflict against the Decepticons. It is natural for them to be unprepared.:

:Yeah, but can they learn?: Wheeljack demanded, an edge of concern in his otherwise gruff voice. :I don't want any liabilities around when the 'Cons do find us. We need fighters-:

Optimus interrupted smoothly, and he needed only keep his tone firm for his voice to rise about that of Wheeljack's. :And they will learn to fight, Wheeljack. You must understand, I have only met the Rescue Bots and their human partners a few brief times, and they are immensely different form you and I. We have grown accustomed to war and death, no matter how much we may abhor it. We have watched fellow Cybertronians be cut down and been helpless to put an end to it. In the heat of battle, we have made choices that we have come to regret.: The Prime's booming baritone became softer and more rueful. :They possess an innocence I have never before witnessed in our kind. Within them is the strength to become the most dedicated of warriors, if properly cultivated.:

:You hold them in high esteem: Wheeljack observed grudgingly. :But do they have what it takes to hold their own against Decepticons?:

Optimus made a sound akin to a sigh. :They are the last rescue force in existence. With enough training, I believe they could accomplish anything.:

:Prime: Ironhide interrupted sharply. :We're reaching land in sixty kliks.:

:I hope you're right about these Rescue Bots of yours: Wheeljack muttered as the seabed began turning into an incline.

Ratchet had gone a lifetime waiting.

Before the War, he was a scientist. During the Golden Age he'd worked to help create a better Cybertron, inventing new ways of healing and defense. He had been developing the first functioning GroundBridge since the time of the Ancients. There had been peace, joy, and prosperity. Then came the War. Suddenly, Ratchet was no longer searching for new ways to better his world. All Cybertronians trained in medicine and healing were asked to pick a side, Optimus Prime's or Megatron's. And then he was repairing the bots who were killing their planet instead.

Medics hardly engaged in combat, and when they did, they were sent to a unit each and forced to wade into battles they were never meant or trained for.

Most of the time, he was waiting.

Ratchet would wait for news from the front when he was elbow deep in the internals of some moaning Autobot recruit. He would wait for news when he cleaned up his station after so many lives lost and few saved, and only when Optimus himself came through the doors of his medical wing did he relax enough to forget he was still waiting.

When the war ended, Ratchet waited for death. Of the millions of Autobots who joined the fight in the beginning only a few hundred remained, and while they did have the Ark, it was only a matter of time before the Decepticons blasted them out of the sky.

In their base on Earth, Ratchet was forced to wait for reports from his team whenever they left on another suicide mission. He would never leave the central communications array for as long as they were gone, anxiously waiting in the empty silo, sometimes with the distraction of the children, other times without.

And now, in the bunker deep under Griffin Rock, Ratchet waited for contact from his team once again.

Ratchet swore a blue streak when he was unable to reach Bulkhead, Bumblebee, or even Arcee. The four of them had refused to answer his calls, likely wrapped up in their own turmoils. He did not wish to think the worst, but there was nothing for it. The last he had heard from Chief Burns, the Cybertronian signals had been drawing nearer to the docks, and Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Smokescreen had been confronted by a former Decepticon who said the ones approaching the island were Autobots.

He focused on the reconnaissance team heading for the west side of the island. Four life signals blinked reassuringly on the screen, the fifth unknown trailing behind them without a fraction symbol.

Deadlock, Ratchet recalled, thoughtfully tapping his digits on the console. The horror stories of the Decepticons' were limitless, and the sniper was no less of a legend. Bulkhead had only mentioned him once or twice in passing, as well as the multitudinous deaths he had caused and the Autobots he had tried to snuff. Ratchet vividly recalled the gruesome wounds he had tended to as a result of the Decepticon's acute aim. Deadlock disappeared long before the War had ended, and many thought him offline or a deserter. Apparently he was the latter and was now on Griffin Rock, along with the Dinobots. Ratchet could feel a processor ache coming on already.

"Hey, Docbot!"

And speaking of processor aches.

"What is it, Miko?" he snapped, and did not look away from the screen and the precious life signs it displayed. "I am very busy, and if you must bother someone, bother someone else."

"Jeez, chill out, Ratch," Miko scoffed, closing the human-sized door behind her and further entered the Rescue Bots' command center. "You act like you don't wanna see me."

"I do not, and I certainly will not 'chill out'," Ratchet muttered coarsely, but when Miko stopped by his pedes he still picked her up and placed her gently on the console by his anxiously typing digits.

Miko was quiet for a few seconds, a record for her, and she observed the screen displaying her friends' life signals before speaking. "Anything new, Ratch?"

Ratchet vented heavily, mimicking a sigh. "Well the incoming Cybertronians split into two groups, one of which contained the Dinobots."

Miko blinked up at him before looking back at the screen, pointing to one of the corners of the displayed map where four signals were making a round of the island. "You mean those?" she asked.

"Yes."

Miko sank into a cross-legged position on the edge of the console, staring at the four life signals as if they were the most interesting things in the world. "What are the Dinobots?" she continued curiously.

"A fraction of Autobots formerly known as the Lightning Strike Coalition Force," Ratchet responded tersely, if only to get his processor off the danger his comrades might be in.

"That's a mouthful."

Ratchet continued as if he hadn't heard her. "During the war for Cybertron, the five of them were ambushed by Shockwave's Insecticons in the Sea of Rust."

"But there are only four now," Miko pointed out apprehensively.

"Yes, I'm getting to that," Ratchet said grimly. "Shockwave, it seems, had found a very far away planet with strange but powerful creatures living upon it. He wished to create creatures such as these himself, and found the Lightning Strike Coalition Force to be the perfect test subjects. Do you know what planet it was that Shockwave found so interesting?"

Miko swallowed. "E-Earth?"

"Precisely. And thus Shockwave completed his experiments. The team's leader, Grimlock, was the first to awaken. While he has become ten times as powerful, his mind suffered as a result. Anger triggers his transformation, and he completely loses control of himself when this happens. Though, there is often no need for him to even transform to win in battle."

"But what about the fifth Dinobot?" Miko protested, bracing her hands on her knees. "What happened to him?"

Ratchet nodded briefly, as if he had forgotten. "His designation was Sludge," the medic said simply. "He was never experimented on and was instead left to the Insecticons." He heard Miko gasp, and finally looked away from the screen. The girl's eyes were wide, horror written on her features at how callously Ratchet had explained the death of one of his fellows. The medic felt guilty for telling her story in the first place. "I am…sorry," Ratchet tried to amend after a while, running a weary servo down his faceplate. "So much has happened, one forgets how horrifying some things truly are."

"Were you scared when you first saw them?" Miko asked softly, uncharacteristically somber.

Ratchet chuckled briefly. "I was terrified. We all were. Never before had we seen anything like them."

Miko began to mimic his smile as she held her knees close to her chest. "Well they sound cool. They're coming here, right? Can I meet them?"

Any semblance of calm that had crept into the aged medic's faceplate was sucked out with that one statement. "You will not be meeting the Dinobots, now or ever, not if I have anything to say on the matter! They are dangerous, undisciplined, and insane. You would likely be stepped on before you could even introduce yourself!" Ratchet wheezed heatedly, abandoning his work to gesture irately at the air around him and toward Miko. Surprisingly, the girl did not appear upset by his tirade, or even the littlest bit annoyed. Instead, she looked up at Ratchet in amusement and pity.

"What?" Ratchet demanded of the girl.

Miko smiled briefly. "You look tired."

Ratchet scoffed, refusing to reveal the panic that blossomed within him upon her guileless statement. "I have been waiting a long time."

The teen's delicate eyebrows furrowed in perplexity. "Waiting for what?"

The medic made to answer, before stopping himself. What did he wait for? The revitalization of their planet, a new Golden Age, Optimus' improbable return, death? It had been so long that Ratchet had forgotten what exactly he waited for. "I…I do not know," he finally said, surprised by his own admittance, when the console pinged. Quickly turning away, he saw that he was receiving a communique from Arcee. He hurried to answer. "Arcee, what is—"

"Ratchet!" Arcee cut him off, soundly oddly breathless. "It's him! He's here!"

The medic could have sworn his spark stilled in its casing, and ignored Miko's wide-eyed gaze. He dare not hope, and as a result his response was choked. "W-who?"

"Optimus. Optimus is alive."

Optimus did not expect the reception he and his new Autobots received upon their arrival in Griffin Rock.

Yes, he had anticipated a party of his teammates waiting onshore; prepared to greet him and the fighting force he had amassed in his three-month absence. But as the first out of the ocean and onto dry land, Optimus Prime was thoroughly stunned to find not his team, but the Rescue Bots prepared for battle with weapons in their servos and their partners within them. Jazz was at their head, his own blasters online, but his lieutenant beamed as he watched them ascend from the waves.

What happened next could only be described as organized chaos. Weapons were sheathed, exclamations of surprise and joy were heard, and the groups melded together.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were pounced on by Jazz, who held the two in a headlock and gave a noogie to each—something he had likely inherited from the humans. The Rescue Bots surrounded Optimus, giving their thanks for his safe arrival while their partners complained about the anxiety and suspense they had gone through in good humor. They found it safer to stay inside, lest they be caught underfoot by an exuberant Autobot.

Optimus' team was the next to roar into the docks, braking and transforming with shock on their faceplates.

Bulkhead actually picked him up in a frame-crushing hug, momentarily dashing protocol, before doing the same to Wheeljack. Arcee, Bumblebee, and Smokescreen approached him with wonder and disbelief in their optics as they shook his servos, both good and bad, and Arcee contacted Ratchet to give him the news.

Drift trailed just behind Optimus's Autobots, a sheepish look on his usually taciturn features. "They didn't give me time to explain," the ex-Decepticon said as way of apology, and Optimus allowed a chuckle to escape his lips for the first time in centuries, because for the first time since arriving on Earth there was no pressure and no pain and they had time, resources, and soldiers to prepare a proper counterattack against the Decepticons.

Although, Optimus was not blind to the clear distrust still eminent among his ranks.

Wheeljack and Ironhide stood apart from the happily converging group, the former eyeing the Rescue Bots with faint uncertainty, not quite knowing what to make of them, while Ironhide kept his narrowed gaze firmly on Drift, who had been awkwardly introduced to the rescue team. Even when Jazz came over to greet the two, they remained alarmingly unaffected. Bulkhead was quick to notice the stiffness in which they stood, followed Ironhide's line of sight, and began muttering to both of them.

The Rescue Bots led them all back to the firehouse, the comm lines aflame and Optimus was all too content to sit back and listen to his Autobots try to bring each other up to speed and reestablish bonds.

Word had been sent ahead that all was well, and so humans began to fill the streets and reenter their homes, watching the procession of abstract vehicles with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Optimus made a note that he and Chief Burns would need to address their presence to the townsfolk before their fear of them became too great.

When they reached the firehouse Ratchet was already halfway out of the garage doors, Nurse Darby, Doctor Greene and the children around his heels. Almost immediately, the latter group dashed forward to meet their guardians, grateful for their safe return, and the Rescue Bots' partners were also helped out to appropriately introduce themselves to the new Autobots.

Optimus was privy to the reunion of Miko and Wheeljack, where the girl demanded to be picked up so she could hug him properly, and the gruff Wrecker allowed her to wrap her arms around his faceplate with a chuckle, just before his medic approached him.

The Prime steadied Ratchet with his supplanted limb, and once the quaking of his frame had ceased, the medic breathed, "You're here. You're really here."

Optimus clasped the ancient Autobot's servo within his own, rooting the both of them to their reality. Fate was a cruel mistress, as Optimus had heard the humans say. Life would continue to be difficult for them, and if they had any confidence in a future free of the Decepticons' tyranny, his Autobots must learn to trust one another, as both friends and comrades-in-arms. Optimus felt in his spark that it was possible to overcome these obstacles, proving that there was hope left for a better future.

"I am here, old friend."