When dusk had set in and the night sky went dark with that faint city glow Cyclonus lifted the slumbering Temperance into his arms. He stared down at her peaceful face, hands grabbing for his chest in her sleep. She trusted so easily and yet the world never gave her a reason to. He held her tightly to his chest as he climbed down the ladder with one hand, her heartbeat hot against his chilled skin.

No… focus…

Inside the apartment it was dark because the candles had faded out and the woodstove only glowed dimly with embers crackling in its iron belly. The tall man gently rested the girl on the bed, pulling one of the thick quilts over top of her. She turned as her brows furrowed. Her teeth gritted in her sleep, the pilot watching curiously. Then the expression of pain faded and she curled in on herself beneath the warm blankets.

Sighing, he took the trip back outside to get some wood. As he lifted some of the kindling and logs into his arms he thought about what Rewonda had said. Highlighted words that drew the eye's glance instantly, beams of light in the storms of darkness that always attracted their own smudging charcoal to their brilliant souls. Surely there had to be a correlation.

Back inside it was remarkably quiet. Usually there was the white noise of the city or a gentle hum of prayer from Cyclonus, but it felt peaceful to be in the silence for the first time in a long list of years. He locked each and every lock from within, stuffed the wood into the fire, and rekindled the candles on the altar as he absorbed that once lost sound. Then, recalling that blissful moment on the roof, he smiled to himself. Temperance had a beautiful voice even if she wasn't accustomed to the heavy language against her tongue. She could adjust. She would be a beautiful singer.

Locked inside her mind the young woman tossed in her own demon's shadows. Her feet stung as she ran, branches and weeds whipping at her face and arms. She ran faster than she ever thought she could, throat burning as she panted in the icy winter air. So much blood and teeth, that thick rotting smell filling the air as it lurched through the house, panting her name like a starved animal. Its lips ran red with blood as the eyes, sunken deep in its head, gaped at her.

"Absol… solution…" It sputtered, thick streams of saliva, blood, and pus pooling beneath the creature, ash caking its body. "Absolution… blood of the lambs… forgive me," it said through a crackling voice. "Forgive me!"

Rain poured down overhead in the stead of a snowy blizzard, but it felt like icy needles against her as her clothes were shredded by the pure speed she bolted away from the house. Finally, fearing the creature was close behind, flush with the skin of her neck, the ground beneath her gave way and she let out an ear splitting scream. The world around her went dark with a thud, colliding with the earth like a car hitting a wall. Pain stabbed through her legs, but the smell of darkness and decomp had faded. It was okay to sleep… sleep so you never have to wake in a world of nightmares again… just sleep.

A sharp gasp erupted from Temperance as she bolted upright, her face drenched in an icy sweat. She stared around the room for a long five minutes, body shaking and heart pounding. Where…? Where was she? Her legs felt numb and her eyes felt tired, unable to properly focus.

Finally, a familiar grip rested on the young woman's shoulders. She shot her eyes up to Cyclonus who looked concerned as best as he could. He was talking to her, but it sounded like she was still in the dream, unable to really hear anything.

Seeing her disoriented state, the man sat down on the bed and grabbed her face. He pulled it close to his, pressing their foreheads together. He whispered that same protective prayer over her as her eyes gently softened. Her tremors ceased and the look of panic dulled to a soft drowsy look. Temperance focused on the cool of Cyclonus' skin against her own, breathing in time with the man as he instructed.

"Are you here?" Temperance nodded, eyes closed and lips pursed, thankful beyond belief that she was okay. "Good… great…" He whispered, eyes glowing a bright red and lips parting in a wide, sharp toothed grin. His skin paled blood and the stench of something evil radiating from his mouth. "Forgive me… forgive me!"

Cyclonus held the girl down, her screams filling the air like a cornered animal close to death. Her eyes were wide open, but their unfixed nature showed she was still dreaming. He pushed his down harder, her nails digging into his skin and drawing blood as she bucked against his hold. Her entire body fought against him, tears streaming down her face as she roared, fear overcoming her.

"Temperance!" He snapped, the girl quieting, shakily looking over to him. Her teeth gritted as her chest was wracked by a hard, heaving sob. She rested her head back as the childish wails took over, body vibrating as she came down from that horrible nightmare. Her hands shook as the blood streamed down Cyclonus' arm, apologizing profusely. The pilot watched as the fearful relief washed over her, pulling her bloody hand away and shielding her eyes. What had she seen in her dreams to drive her to such a primal sort of terror?

After some assurance that she was fine enough to take a shower and scrub the blood out from beneath her nails, Cyclonus handed her a towel and guided her outside in the chilly dawn to the outhouse and microshower. Everything was so small, but Temperance didn't care. She still felt vaguely surreal, her footing shaky and eyes heavy.

"S-sorry," she whispered, voice hoarse. "I didn't… I didn't mean to…. Your arm…" He simply brushed it off and shut the door behind her, returning to the apartment.

Once inside Cyclonus read the profiles backwards and forwards, subconsciously processing what could be the clues of why Rewonda and Temperance shared that trait. It had to be a factor somehow. But who would know… who knew an excess of seemingly unspoken knowledge?

Rung was curled up against the broad chest of the man aptly named by his coworkers as Fort Max. The man was a prison warden who actually did a respectable job. He was built like a draft horse and had the heart of a gentle giant, his grey blue hair accenting his angular face. It was a comfortable space to be for someone so small in comparison. He could have stayed there forever. However, his work phone had different plans.

Both of the men grumbled when the old telephone ringtone sounded through the hazy dawn of their bedroom. Rung slammed his hand down on it, trying to silence the mechanism like a clock. Unfortunately it was not such a device and eventually he had to answer it.

Sleepily flipping it open, hand reaching for his glasses blindly in the dun of the early morning. However, the voice on the other side of the line was much less exhausted.

"Rung what do you know of the mental effects of near death experiences in sleep?" Came Cyclonus' voice. This query had the man sitting upright in his bed, eyes focusing.

"If real enough it can actually kill the person… why?"

"Explain it with God, science, or the supernatural, I don't care, but Temperance needs to see you today."

Rung was already tying the drawstring of his bathrobe around his waist with his phone crammed between his shoulder and his ear, heading to the kitchen for some caffeine by the time Cyclonus had explained what had happened only moments before. He was scribbling down the symptoms on the back of a cereal box with a Sharpie when he felt Fort Max's hands wrap around his middle.

"Let's not pretend here, you have a comprehensive history file, correct?" Cyclonus regrettably admitted his possession of her should-be sealed records. "Bring that in. I can be at the office at… eight, give or take a few minutes," he said as he checked the clock on the wall. "Come straight to the office, alright?"

The man sighed as Fort Max handed him coffee just how he liked it. He thanked his partner softly, head throbbing at the thought of the day's tasks. He had to do an emergency session with Temperance and then Whirl after lunch… it was just so much.

"Hey," the prison warden whispered, tilting Rung's chin up. He kissed the smaller's lips softly, smiling after. "Don't sweat it. You'll do great."

"I'm not unconfident in my abilities… I'm worried for Temperance's safety."

Cyclonus sat with the girl on the early morning bus, drunks and the elderly riding close to the front. The harsh yellow glow flickered overhead as Temperance leaned on the man's chest. Her eyes were rimmed with half-moon shadows, her gaze unfixed. Her hands shook in her lap, tears threatening to roll down her face white as a sheet. Sighing, resolved to give the girl her own moment, the pilot took a hand and wrapped it around Temperance's. She sniffled, rubbing her nose as she whispered a raspy thanks.

The bus ride was a long one, bumping around corners and whirring with that loud groaning engine until it hissed to a stop on the corner of the street where the massive hospital ominously stood. Temperance wobbled on her feet, body still shaking from when she woke up. Cyclonus took one look and bent at the knee, offering to carry her. She fell into his arms with a gasp, gripping him tightly as if her mind had briefly fallen asleep. He held her tightly to reassure her that she was awake, letting the silence of the lightening morning wash a reassuring glow over her. Unfortunately a massive Atlantic storm was brewing in the distance.

Tears silently streamed down Temperance's face as she was carried, mind still confused by what she'd seen. Cyclonus was not the grey man who'd ripped her life apart. It was a hallucination, she chanted to herself. It was safe in his arms. And yet she was so scared.

The garden smelled of rich soil and fresh air, frost twinkling against leaves and petals. Rung was standing outside of his office holding the door open for Cyclonus, face twisted in worry. Temperance looked shaken beyond belief, showing signs of shock.

Inside the office it was warm and the young woman was seated on a firmer chair. Rung offered her a blanket, her extremities chilled and tipped in pink. She graciously, silently accepted the offerings, eyes fixed on the floor the entire time. Rung whispered something to her guardian who gave a firm, grim nod and left. Then there were two.

"Temperance… I know you're probably sick of hearing this question, but do you know where you are?"

"The hospital in your office, the back room, not the waiting room," she said, voice crackling. "I know where I am." A sigh of relief escaped the psychologist as he took his own seat. "I'm here… because I couldn't separate a dream from waking up… and I hur… I hurt…" She began, tears spilling over her face as she bit back the sobs forcing their way up her throat. She ground her teeth as the she helplessly sniffled, tears flowing freely.

"Take your time."

"The reason… I told you not to call my parents… I don't know where they are… I don't know who they are… All my legal guardians gave me up and the one I might have had a chance with was murdered. I was too old to be fed back into the system. So I clung to… to this stranger in some medicinal garden," she rambled, floodgates of emotion and thought broken open. "I wanted to run away. I wanted to be with someone who could keep this monster away."

"What monster?"

Temperance's eyes shot straight up and stared deeper into Rung's eyes than anyone had before in his life, her sharp blue gaze piercing through him. It was a look of a deer in the headlights and a cry for rescue, all locked in silence. It was a flashback. Rung watched, not wanting to trigger another attack like that morning. Silently he watched as her hands clamped tightly together until her knuckles went white, her lips shaking as she tried to force words to explain.

"M-man… manifested corruption," she whispered, shoulders shaking. "Rotting flesh, blood, disease, plagues, and greed wrapped in a body… I know he's real… The others never saw, but the social worker… Verity something… She saw him right before it… before it…" Rung made a dash for a small trash can, seeing the look of nausea over the young woman's face. Sure enough her stomach purged itself into the trash can. She coughed up acid and mouthfuls of blood. The doctor's eyes widened as he saw the crimson staining her lips, even the girl's eyes wide. She looked up at him, fear written across her soft face.

"Temperance…"

Ratchet pressed his lips into his forefinger and thumb, eyes hard as he watched the girl while she laid perfectly still in the MRI scanner. Rung was there simply as a witness, Cyclonus forced to sit like the menace he was in the waiting room, face grim and frown almost carved into his hard lined face. People avoided him, not sure if he was angry or grieving or both.

Inside the dimly lit room where the controls were the two doctors watched as the nurse, Whirl's saving grace, controlled the machine and carefully scanned the MRI digital imaging with lightning speed and the eyes of an eagle. If anyone was good enough to find an anomaly, no matter how smart, it was the hyper-empathetic and creative one known as First Aid. He raised two fingers, calling Ratchet over as he froze a sliced scan around her throat.

They both stared at the images for a long time with a grim expression. Ratchet balled his fist as he told First Aid to send the scans up to the Oncology department for a second opinion. It wasn't necessary, just standard protocol. There was no doubt it what it was. Now it was who would be tasked with telling her. And who would be there in case Cyclonus reacted badly. No one wanted to be there to see what he would do when he was told the one person that got close to him would be close no more.

Temperance trembled in the chair of the massive office. The room was built of in-wall bookshelves, green collegian lamps, and paintings that accented diplomas and graduate degrees. In any other case it would have been an academically and professionally impressive setting had it not been associated so many times with fear and despair. You'd think the doctor would decorate it with flowers and bright colors to open the option for optimism.

However, those who entered the spacious Oncology counselling office were not there to hear positive things. When First Aid wheeled her down to the cancer department his hand was on her shoulder reassuringly the entire time, clearly skilled with driving the wheelchair one handed. His bright red hair and gentle blue eyes flashed overhead when the girl looked up, his expression grave. And yet his support for her never wavered. Now, waiting in the office, it felt like all she needed was Cyclonus' reassuring touch.

The doctor came in and sat down, not beating around the issue. She looked up from the files and folded her hands together on top of the desk. She explained that the reason she had vomited up blood was because of something called adenocarcinoma of the esophagus. It was confirmed after the endoscopy of her throat that was done shortly after her MRI.

"All we can say is that being a long term comatose patient with the hospital the disease almost certainly should have been detected. It is an absolutely err on our part. Legally speaking I'm not supposed to say that… but it should have been detected," she explained, face dark. The small young woman, barely standing over five foot five, looked even smaller at that news. The doctor pushed the box of tissues towards her as the girl started sobbing. Her hands shook as she blew her nose, entire body reduced to a collection of tremors. "The life expectancy rate is approximately eighteen percent, but at stage four… it's more of a miracle statistic offered for the public, really. We can give you pain medication and advise you on improving your health towards the end, but being realistic there is only about from a few weeks to a few months left."

Cyclonus met Temperance at the door while she was in a wheelchair, hospital procedure to guide her to the door. Ratchet simply gave him a look and nodded goodbyes. They hadn't met on the best of terms and so there wasn't really a point for idle chatter. One finally goodbye and the doctor had retreated back to the familiar comforts of the hospital's latex and background buzz of work.

Outside the storm had grown closer and the sky dark, cold, out-of-season winds rushing against the city. Temperance shivered, but not because of the cold. She bit back more sobs as she smiled up at Cyclonus who simply nodded. The walked back to the bus stop, the young woman weaving her fingers into the pilot's hand, smile fading as the reality set in. Her body was working against her, imprisoned in her own bones. But now all she could do was hold the strong, cold hand and pray that she was still dreaming. The first time in a very long time she wished it was all just a black-smeared figment.

Temperance's entire body shook when she sat on the edge of Cyclonus' bed, tears running like a river when she explained what she was told. The room felt impossibly full and yet at the same time glaringly empty. She tugged hard on the sleeves of her sweater, lip bitten so hard that it was a deep pink when she finally parted them. Instead of that quietly comforting sigh and hard press against her shoulder the man turned to leave.

"Y-you're leaving?" She rasped, face marked with confusion and pain.

"As opposed to what?"

She shook her head, hiding her new round of sobs. She waved him off, numb with pain. It was almost as if the second the cancer was found her body knew to feel the constant ache close to her heart. The pain medication, she was told, would take a little while to set in being her first dose.

Outside the storm broken open in a torrent of rain, sheets of the storm washing against the buildings as thunder rolled overhead. Cyclonus stared up at the sky and closed his eyes. He clenched his fist, sharp teeth gritting as he tried to decide how to react. His eyes burned as if he could scream and cry, but his throat only clenched and the only water on his face was the rain. Instead, roar escaping him into a boom of thunder, the pilot raked his nails across his face, points sharpened on command. Blood ran down his face, the gashes scarring the already dark expression. He felt the burn of healing in his face, cursing the gift he was forced to accept all those years ago.

But who else should be take his rage out on than the person who gave him that bitter immortality: Galvatron.