Arcee was uncertain of two things. One, if Optimus and the others would ever come back. Two, if she was really able to help Wheeljack. His optics had dulled to a lovely shade of grey, which meant that he was forever blind. There was nothing she, Ratchet, or his body could do for him now. All he could do was wait for a miracle that was probably never going to happen. To keep her and himself distracted from the fact that he was crippled for life now, Wheeljack and Arcee did engage in Marco Polo, if only to get him to maneuver around the base without any problem. That had yet to happen.

Wheeljack laid where he had fallen and he sighed in frustration. "Can't I just blow this place up and remove these cheating corners?"

"Afraid not. Optimus might be a little upset." Arcee leaned against the wall, watching him. She had explained that if Wheeljack wanted help, he would have to give it to himself. She had given that rule to Bulkhead, who had to limp around the base for weeks before he finally came close to full-range of motion.

"A little? Nah, he'd shake my servo and congratulate me by shoving me through the GroundBridge and into the Arctic!" Wheeljack sat up and he shook his helm hard, as if that could somehow get his optics to work again. They stayed grey and blank when they had been blue and full of mischief. Arcee sighed in longing. Then she moved her position.

"Marco."

"Polo."

"Marco!"

"Frag it, Arcee, you can't cheat!"

"You're supposed to say Polo!"

Wheeljack put one servo on the wall on his right and he started to run, following the wall and trusting his pedes to find level ground. He ran smack into Arcee. "Polo," he grunted and he rolled off of her. He scowled up at the ceiling, his optic ridges knitting together. "What were you doing?"

Arcee touched his servo to let him now she was getting up so he didn't smack his helm into hers trying to do the same. He waited until he heard both of her pedes click on the ground when she shifted her weight. Then he stood. "I was running ahead a bit to see where I could hide next and get you to guess where you were, but when I turned around to circle back, I was bowled over by a Wrecker-projectile."

"Dog-pile Wrecker-style."

"The only way to play, injuries included?"

"You got it. Injuries free of charge." Wheeljack touched the wall and focused. "We are...in the hall leading out of the main room to the quarters?"

"Right! You're getting good at this!"

"Nah. I can feel where Ratchet threw Bulkhead through one wall and into this one. Optimus did a good job trying to patch it up, but I can still feel the depression." Then he walked away, still feeling the wall.

Arcee ran her servos over the wall where Wheeljack had felt the dent, but she could feel nothing. So she closed her optics and she gasped. She could feel it. Her optics, she found, lied to her. Wheeljack, though crippled, was actually taking in more than any other bot, even more than possibly Soundwave!

Okay, maybe not, she thought. But it's close! "Wheeljack!" She ran after him. "Wait up."

Wheeljack stopped in front of his quarters door and he turned his helm in her direction. "It may not be clean, so if you'd like to wait out here, my lovely escort..."

Arcee nodded. "I suppose now would be a good time to play silent Marco Polo. I'll be in the main room, trying to contact the Autobots."

Wheeljack nodded, so Arcee left him to go and try to contact Optimus and Bulkhead, but neither party was answering. She considered throwing something of Ratchet's as another form of pay-back, but she resisted the urge and instead stared at the computer screens.

Wheeljack walked back to her, using the walls as a support as he called out to her. "Arcee, my optics are hurting..."

Arcee ran to him immediately and checked his optics herself. They were fading to black, which meant infection. She couldn't treat this infection. She hadn't worked on optics in her short training as a medic. She needed Ratchet badly.

"Stay here. I'll call Ratchet and he'll rush over immediately to take care of you."

The only problem with that was that Ratchet wasn't responding. No one did.

Wheeljack laid his helm down and he covered his optics. "It hurts...Arcee, it hurts...how can anything hurt so badly?"

Arcee stroked his helm, shaking as she whined. Why wasn't anyone answering!?

ooo

Optimus watched Ratchet. "You should answer."

Ratchet ignored him for a moment as he dug around for the Energon signal he was getting. "She's probably just calling to ask when we are coming home again. She gets nervous, you know?"

"But it could be serious..." Optimus reached for his comm.

Ratchet stopped him. "You're getting nervous, too. Everything is fine, I promise."

The medic finally held up his find, the cause of the Energon signal: a tiny splinter of a crystal.

Optimus sighed. "We cannot return to the base. We do not have anything to show for our hard work..."

So the medic and the Prime went on in search for the much needed Energon, Optimus struggling to forget that Arcee had commed them several times. Eventually, with the help of Ratchet's excited exclamation that he had another signal, he forgot all about what had happened back at base, which was unfortunate.

One of his warriors was about to lose his optics forever.