Mikaela didn't know what she was doing, or why she was doing it.

She had tried to put the dreamers out of her mind. Optimus' lecture had done its job, and now the dreamers were tucked safety away in his own quarters, away from Mikaela and any other Autobot who wanted their minds to take a vacation.

It was a based on hypocrisy, Mikaela thought. Who was to say that Prime, the all-knowing Optimus Prime hadn't been drowning his own mind in dreams, false images that flashed through his processors at the speed of light, certainly nothing a human could ever experience, while Mikaela just sat alone and wallowed in self-pity.

She called her mission, her little operation, an attempt to take back something that rightfully belonged to her. Starscream had known of the dangers. Certainly, he wasn't trying to kill her. He needed her for his so-called "revolution," to work, whatever that meant. He knew she wasn't weak and that she could take it.

And she would take it. Just take it back from someone else, which would ultimately make her a thief.

She was already a traitor, so why not add theft to the list?

Mikaela observed Prime the first day, watching him punch in the code to enter his own quarters, memorized the patterns that would ultimately keep unwanted visitors from browsing through whatever he had hidden in there. And being the naïve little Prime he was, Mikaela knew that he would never think of an Autobot going to snoop through his private stash.

In the dead of night, she awoke from recharge, her pedes silent as she crept through the dark hallway. Optimus was gone, she had made sure of that, enduring another late-night meeting that would probably leave him stumped, defeated, and tired.

She punched in the code and, in a few seconds, was rummaging under his berth, finding the dreamer and taking it.

Nothing but the small box mattered. Nothing. She had closed the door behind her, shuffling back towards her own room. As soon as the door shut she pressed her back against it and slid down onto the floor, her legs pulled up against her.

She sat there for a remainder of the night with the dreamer tucked in one hand, feeling content to never let it go.

"Hey."

Mikaela sat in her usual spot behind the shed, her back to the world, her fingers running over the artifact in her hand. Should she plug it in now? Shut the world away and succumb to her own subconscious, delusional mind?

It seemed reasonable, with Trina standing in front of her, her hands on her hips and her lips curved downward in a frown.

"What is that," she said, jerking her chin towards the dreamer.

Mikaela clamped her fist over the artifact, crossing her arms, tucking the dreamer away, away from Trina's prying eyes. She wouldn't know – wouldn't understand.

The last thing she needed was for Trina to go blabbing to Optimus, who Mikaela was trying her hardest to avoid. It was just like her first month of becoming a Cybertronian, trying to hide away from the intense stares and soft whispers of the soldiers as they observed her. Hiding away and never wanting to come out.

"What do you want? I thought you hated me?" Mikaela snapped.

"I never said that I hated you. Now, what is that?" Trina gestured again towards the dreamer and that was when a part of Mikaela wanted to step on the little human, turn her into a smear beneath her pedes.

No, no, no. She couldn't think like one or else she would become one.

"It's none of your business," Mikaela muttered, shifting her leg ever so slightly.

"As your physical therapist - "

"Oh God, Trina, is this your way of apologizing?" Mikaela asked, incredulous. "Because if it is, you're doing a pretty sucky job."

Trina's lips pulled into a tight line, brushing a few strands of dark hair out of her eyes. It was like rehab all over again, the uncomfortable silence between the two girls – one Cybertronian, one most definitely human – even more prominent than before.

"I didn't mean what I said."

"I know you didn't."

"Yeah, because you know everything," Trina said with a mirthless laugh. "As a Cybertronian, that comes as a bonus. Never get old, never really…." her hands shook and her face turned red. "Whatever."

She leaned back and sat down beside Mikaela.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sam sent me."

"Oh, so you and Sam are so incredible tight now?"

"He wanted to say….he wanted me to tell you that he and Bumblebee are going back up to Tranquility tomorrow, and that he wants to tell you goodbye."

"In person?"

"I'm his messenger, and this is me telling you that he said goodbye."

"The little coward," Mikaela snarled, clenching the dreamer so hard that she heard it groan. Trina tilted her head upward, full lips pulling into a frown, her eyes narrowing.

"Again, I have to ask, what do you have in your hand?"

"You wouldn't get it."

"I've heard that more than enough times, and I'm telling you, I get it."

Mikaela, looking around to make sure Optimus wasn't watching from afar, she uncrossed her arms and held out the dreamer, holding in front of Trina's face as if it were some display.

Trina was silent.

"What is it?" she finally asked.

Mikaela snatched her hand back, running her fingers over the dreamer. "It's….I don't know how to describe it."

"You don't have to," Trina stood and crossed her arms. "I saw Prime walking to the med bay with one of those," Her eyes widened and she breathed, "you didn't…"

"I did."

"He's going to be pissed if he finds out. Might even pull a Ratchet on you. Hit you upside the head with a wrench himself."

Mikaela leaned forward, bracing her hands against the ground on either side of Trina, coming eye-to-eye with the human female, her gaze threatening.

"Not if you keep your trap shut."

Trina was messing with her hair, her eyes directed at the sky. A fruitless attempt to hide her discomfort. "I can't make any promises."

"You won't."

"He'll find out eventually. Optimus doesn't think to highly of thieves."

"It belonged to me," Mikaela growled, easing up out of Trina's face. "And since when have you known anything about Optimus?"

"Optimus? The Optimus Prime, defender of Earth, yada yada?" Trina raised her eyebrows, pretending to be surprised by the question. "He was the one who recommended that I be your physical therapist. Maybe because he thought you and I would get along."

Mikaela grimaced. She and Trina weren't anything alike, now that she thought about it. Trina's family was rich – millionaires, practically, who ran one of the largest cooperation's in the world. She was practically swimming in cash, yet, of all the job occupations she could have chosen from, she chose one that practically had her nurturing a sick, delusional, human-turned-alien.

"And you took the job?"

"I took it."

"Why?"

"Because I was bored with my life," Trina crossed her legs and stared out at the tarmac ahead. "Because I never saw my parents. My mom traveled and my dad traveled, and I felt like, as heir to the Garrison family fortune, I needed to do something with my life."

Mikaela barked a laugh, the dreamer all but abandoned beside her as she stared down at Trina.

"And….and you chose this? You chose to work with this?" she gestured down at her new body, at her shiny silver armor that was supposed to make her better, but at the same time made her feel worse. "What were you drinking?"

"I wasn't drinking anything."

"And how did that job work out for you? Do you still think I'm a monster?"

"I never," Trina faltered, thinking for a moment before saying, under her breath, "I…no. I was wrong, yesterday, when I said…."

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"No."

"You should."

"I don't need you telling me what to do," Mikaela began to stand, joints creaking. "And I can make my own choices."

She barely heard Trina's next words as she transformed, tires squealing against the tarmac.

"Clearly, you might need some help."

That night, Mikaela began to slip into recharge, content and happy.

The dreamer lay bedside her, and she didn't know what to do with it. The battle in her mind raged, trying to choose between right from wrong.

Use it and get a free ticket to happy land?

Use it, get a free ticket to happy land, and possible be stuck there forever?

But, then again, for an Autobot, how long was forever? The species lived – they rarely ever died unless in the event of a catastrophe, like the ones Mikaela was used to facing. Usually they died like Jetfire, poor, old Jetfire, sacrificing the last of himself for the greater good.

Maybe they just lived forever.

Mikaela didn't know. And if they did live forever, what was to stop Mikaela's body from never rotting away or decaying as time passed, as she drifted in and out of her own dreams?

She reached for the dreamer. Getting lost seemed like a good thing.

A ping inside her head indicating that someone was trying to comm her stopped her fingers from grabbing the dreamer. She froze, and if she would have had lungs, she would have sucked in a breath. But she didn't, and she could only lay still.

"I hope you're enjoying my little present."

Mikaela could almost imagine Starscream's sneer. It had infected her mind recently, like a plague, spreading and spreading.

"What do you want?"

"To meet you," Starscream was silent for a moment, leaving Mikaela laying there in the pitch darkness. "Come alone."

"Who said I was ever coming?"

"You will if you know what's good for you," through the link, Mikaela heard a snicker. "And, as always, I took precautions. I'm only a mile away from your current location. I can hack into the bases system, override the security and be sure that you get out without anyone detecting you."

Mikaela spark was thrumming. Starscream couldn't hurt her. No. Megatron had specifically told him that she was off-limits. But then again, when did Starscream ever care about what Megatron wanted?

"I…"

"It's not a request, femme, it's an order."

"Since when did you become the boss of me?"

"Oh, my dear Mikaela," Starscream sneered. The way he said her name, the way it seemed to role of his tongue, had always sickened Mikaela. It was as if he owned her. "I've owned you for a long, long time. Now get up."

Mikaela got up, her fingers gripping for the door, but not before shoving the dreamer under her berth.

"Where are we going?" she paused, her hand braced against the door.

"Shh," Starscream hissed. "Just find me, and all will be revealed."