Captain: Hello! Yes, I still live, yes I'm still a masochist, and yes, I am now a PhD student. No I am not mentally well. I should have been editing my research manuscript for publication, but I got sick so I decided that was excuse enough to work on fanfic for a few days. Enjoy and hope to see y'all again soon!

Act II

"In the end, it's not just the big and small events that make you who you are, make your life what it is, it's how you chose to react to them—that's where you have control over your life" ~Lisa Unger

Megatron. The name rang in Darcy's ears long after she'd left the conference room. The destroyer. The murderer. The true leader of the Decepticons. The one everyone truly feared. The one who ripped Jazz in half without a second thought.

The one Decepticon she'd never had to face.

And his body was stolen.

For all they knew, he had already been brought back to life.

For all they knew, he was a threat bearing down on them.

For a moment, and likely for a good time following, no one really cared what Barricade was up to anymore, or what Starscream's ultimate goal was. None of that really mattered if Megatron was back.

As non-essential personnel, Darcy wasn't allowed to be involved in the planning about what to do about this new news. She was fine with that. The less she knew, the better. The less involved they let her get, the easier it would be to slip away, back into her old life.

If there would be a life to return to.

Of course, the interruption had meant they'd never gotten the chance to discuss what was to be done with her, so the original ruling still stood. Slipping away would be impossible.

And there was still the problem of not having much of a life to go back to. No job, no friends left in her town, no guarantee that Barricade wouldn't come for her the second she tried to use her own credit card.

Even if Megatron was back, she couldn't believe the Mustang would just give up his vendetta. Perhaps he would be reigned under control…for a time, but eventually he would come. Finding her in the bar had proven that, whether it was by chance or not.

She blew out a breath, breaching the entry into the rec room. Regardless, her evenings spent in bars surrounded by civilians were over. Not that she currently had any desire for that, but who knew how long the restriction would last?

Only human soldiers were in the room, as the news of Megatron had prompted an all-hands meeting of the Autobots. No doubt it would be some time before any of them emerged again.

For the moment, the base was practically alien-free.

And yet, Darcy found no comfort or camaraderie in the soldiers. They lived on base, fought alongside the Autobots, yet were hardly more than the strangers in the bar.

In an ironic twist of fate, the very aliens she was trying to get away from were the closest things she had to friends on this base.

Left to her own devices, Darcy eventually returned to her room. If Megatron was back, the need to find the Decepticon base had only grown. Maybe there was something in those boxes of files she hadn't discovered yet. Maybe there was something she'd missed.

Yet hours passed and she felt no closer to when she'd started. The seismograph reports might reveal something and she still put money on those being their best bet. Otherwise there was nothing. Not even splitting cases by date revealed anything telling. Initial surges could have been Decepticons, but they could have also been an increase in activity or reporting. While cases around Primus Peak stopped after the raid, nowhere else saw a change in patterns. But it'd also been spring, when visitors were only just returning to mountainous terrain.

She glanced at the clock, realizing she'd been staring unseeing at her map for the last twenty minutes. There was nothing her human eyes could see in the patterns. Maybe there was differences, but was it the Decepticons or the seasons? Was it really something or just another false trail?

Megatron could be back, they didn't have time for goose chases.

She sighed, shoving the files aside to brace her head in her hands. She wasn't an alien detective, she didn't have eons of experience. Hell, she wasn't even a human detective anymore, what help could she even be? Would they even keep her around? It was all too big for her, too much. Maybe the next time she saw Prowl he would tell her that she was being sent home.

It was what she'd wanted all along after all.

She hated that the map taunted her, that the itch of an unsolved mystery diluted the desire to leave it all behind and move on.

Not that she really got a say one way or the other around here. Her fate lay in the hands of NEST and the Autobots. Only one of those options offered any sort of comfort. It wasn't the one she knew it should have been.

Still time ticked by without a word. Eventually she left the room for the mess hall and dinner, taking the longer route to check who might be wandering around. The base still seemed eerily empty of aliens and higher ranking military personnel. Autobots didn't need to sleep as often as humans and this was Megatron. Their meeting could last for days.

It did.

The base was on lockdown for the duration of it. Canceled leave caused no small amount of grumbling among the personnel who didn't yet know the details of the trouble. With no Autobots to break up the long days, the soldiers had taken to spontaneous drills on the paintball range. No one knew anything, but the tension remained high with every hour and day that passed, pressing against frayed nerves with a demand to break.

At noon on the fifth day, it did, with a single announcement over an intercom system that called for all personnel to report to their duty stations. The tension snapped, soldiers moving quickly and with purpose, their numbers swelling as commanding officers and Autobots finally reappeared.

Having no official duty station, Darcy remained where she was in the rec room, her eyes tracking the commanders and aliens that passed. Even the Autobots were moving stiffly and somehow seemed tired. How could metal look tired?

"Detective." She blinked up at Prowl, noting that he definitely looked exhausted, his doorwings nearly drooping.

"Prowl," she barely stopped herself from asking what was going on. It wasn't her business. Anything to do with aliens was likely to be removed from being her business very shortly. She settled on a safer question. "Are you alright?"

"I am functional," he supplied, "And I need you prepared to leave in two hours."

Such a short time. While she was not surprised at the request, she was that it would be so fast. She supposed she could not complain, although she felt a tinge of regret that she would likely not get a chance to say goodbye to Jazz, who she had yet to see since the meeting let out.

"I can do that." It wouldn't take two hours to pack the single duffel worth of personal items she had here. It wouldn't even take that long to pack up all of the case files so that they would be ready to move for whoever else might take them over.

Prowl tipped his head, his blue optics dim and distant. "I will see you in the garage then."

He turned back into the flow of moving personnel, the humans quickly adjusting their paths to give him room. Whether it was respect or intimidation, she noted that they gave him a wider birth than some of the other Autobots. Prowl did not appear to notice.

She wondered if Ratchet was as capable of demanding he get rest as he was Jazz. The black and white had to be completely whooped for her to be noticing that he seemed off.

But it wasn't her business. Not anymore

She was going home.

And she couldn't deny the sense of dread that sank into her gut.

Who knew what awaited her at home, but she was going to have to face it with little time to mentally ready herself.

Two hours later she was in the hanger with her duffel slung over her shoulder. Soldiers moved in well organized chaos, loading trucks with supplies, weapons, and personal belongings. Even Ironhide sat in his truck form, soldiers strapping a massive crate down in his bed.

It appeared to be a mass exodus.

Optimus Prime himself strode into the hanger, Prowl and Ratchet flanking him. From the floor, he was even more colossal, exuding power and command from every panel. The three Autobots paused, looking over the growing colony of vehicles ready to leave. In tandem, their bodies disintegrated, collapsing in on themselves and reforming as human-made machines. It was the first time she'd gotten to see the vehicle modes of the commander and medic. She supposed it shouldn't have been a surprise that such a massive Autobot was a semi. There were probably very few options that would fit his size.

The Charger rolled away from the other two, stopping only as he came alongside her and popping his passenger door open. "Come, Detective, it is time we leave."

She hesitated just a moment, looking around the bay for Jazz. She could not see his silver frame anywhere. Maybe a clean break would be easier.

Climbing into the Charger, she couldn't help but wonder where everyone else was going. Was the entire base being emptied? Was there another base they were heading too? Or were they scattering, covering more ground in case Megatron showed himself?

But it wasn't her business. She was going home.

Some signal she didn't see or hear put the line of cars and trucks in motion. Human trucks took point, Ironhide rolling in front of Optimus with Prowl behind. If Ratchet or other Autobots were in the convoy, she couldn't see them in the mass of human vehicles.

"How dangerous is Megatron, really?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. Oh she'd heard about his initial attacks on Mission City, knew that he had led the Decepticons through millennia of war. He was a bigger threat than Starscream as their leader, but just how much more? Could the Autobots handle it? Could they defeat him a second time?

Prowl vented softly, the warm air brushing across her face. "With Starscream in command, the Decepticons would have eventually imploded in on themselves with infighting. He might have held them together another few years at most, but they would have steadily broken apart. They will unite under Megatron. They respect and fear him too much to abandon their cause or to challenge his rule. He was also held here, trapped in stasis for decades. He knows of this place."

"Doesn't Starscream? He helped free him the first time, right?" It had seemed completely ridiculous to form a base right where the Decepticons had known the humans kept Megatron hidden for so long, yet until now, there'd been no indication the enemy had any idea they were there.

"Starscream believes himself too cunning, and he believes we believe him too cunning to attempt hiding in plain sight. The odds he would look for us here were below one percent. The odds Megatron will attack the dam for spite or to check for our presence is nearly sixty. Which is why many of us are returning to our primary base, while others go to man bases we believe to be nearest to Decepticon activity." the tactician explained as the convoy practically took over the highway and Las Vegas loomed on the horizon.

A fleet of cargo planes rumbled overhead, dropping towards the airbase on the edge of the city.

"Where is Jazz?" Maybe a clean break would be better, but he was her friend, as crazy as that sounded in her own mind, and he'd done so much for her over the last weeks that she at least owed him a goodbye.

"He is on a scouting mission. Fret not, Detective, he will join us when he is finished." Prowl's path on the interstate stayed perfectly steady, remaining an exact six feet from the semi's rear tires. If the landscape wasn't flying by, it would almost seem as if they were standing still. They made the vehicles driven by humans look clumsy and unsteady.

Darcy paused, narrowing her eyes at the dash as she realized that while she had assumed she was going home, Prowl had never actually said such.

"Prowl….where am I going?" Her time should be nearly up. It would only make sense to cut her loose a little early, let her return home. There was still a chance. Perhaps he would leave her at the airport with a non-sentient ride back to Idaho. Perhaps she would have to plane-hop a few times to make it back.

But he said that Jazz would join us. With Megatron on the loose, she rather doubted the Autobots would allow their tactician and saboteur to escort her all the way home.

"I am afraid I must amend our previous agreement to conclude once we have a better understanding of if Megatron is truly back. For now, you are coming with me to our primary base on Diego Garcia."

"Diego Garcia?" Darcy parroted in shock. She hadn't the foggiest idea of where that was, but given the fleet of inbound aircraft, she'd bet it wasn't local.

"A military installation on an island in the Indian Ocean."

"Indian Ocean? I can't go to the Indian Ocean!" Darcy felt her world tilt. The thought of going home had made her nervous, yes, but to discover she wasn't…that they were shuffling her out of the country?! She'd only left the country once and that was to Canada. Now they wanted her to go to some island in the middle of the ocean on the other side of the world?

"On the contrary, due to our situation, you are allowed to any base which I am stationed."

"Prowl, I'm supposed to be going home, not the other side of the planet!" She pinched the bridge of her nose with a groan. Yes, she'd known her fate for the time being was out of her hands and had been decided by the Autobots and NEST. Yes, she'd known the likelihood had been to either go home or stay on base for the time being, and yes their current base was compromised with the potential return of Megatron. But…surely they had other bases in the US! There had to be something in D.C. or the midwest or…or something!

The tactician vented a sigh, seeming to sink on his axles despite maintaining position and pace with Optimus. "I do apologize, Detective, for any appearance of deception. I could not in good conscience allow you to return home at this time given the probability of another attack by Barricade. Diego Garcia was the only other option."

"Aren't there other bases?" There had to be something that wasn't so remote and isolated as an island.

Prowl did not answer right away, though when he finally did, she noted there was no regret in his tone. He was a pragmatic 'bot, he didn't make decisions he regretted. "I am stationed on Diego Garcia outside of missions. To expedite bureaucratic processes, I claimed Guardianship. Until you are released from our care, you go where I go."

Darcy froze, her eyes narrowing at the dash in front of her. "You what?"

"I claimed Guardianship. It was the logical decision given the circumstances. "

"And you just did this without talking to me first?" She still didn't know exactly what it entailed, but given how everyone talked about it, it seemed a hell of a lot more involved than simply looking out for her.

"There was not the time. Had I waited to discuss it with you, your government would have taken you into their custody and likely would have sent you home in short order."

Pressure built behind her eyes. "I want to go home."

Eventually, at least. The sooner was probably the better. The longer she waited the harder it would be to adjust back to a normal life, to face the demons that waited in the real world.

"You will, when it is safe to do so."

"You can't…I just…" she let out a strangled sound, "What does that even mean?"

Prowl's tires bumped over the gate track as he entered the airstrip, turning with the rest of the convoy towards the building line of cargo planes. Darcy eyed them with no small amount of trepidation. Her gaze jumped to the door, finding Prowl had guessed the track of her thoughts and firmly engaged his locks.

"Please do not do anything rash, Detective. It simply means that I am your Guardian. I am responsible for your safety and the only way which I can ensure such is to have you with me."

A bodyguard. He'd named himself her personal, multiton, mechanical bodyguard, that she had to follow around. All without saying a word to her about it beforehand.

"Prowl that's not…I can't go to Diego Garcia!" It would be senseless to attempt escape, but the temptation was building sharply.

"I fail to see why it is any different than the Hoover Dam." Of course he did. Of course he couldn't understand the difference between the base she'd be taken to for necessity and the one in the middle of the ocean where she didn't belong.

"The dam was supposed to be temporary! Our agreement was for a month, a month, Prowl! That month is almost over, I should be going home, not to some…some island. I'm not a soldier!" She glared at the radio for lack of any other place that seemed sensible to look. If only he'd present his holoform to argue with. Then again, she thought herself liable to strike it again in her current state.

"I am aware you are not a soldier, you are worth more than them. Rest assured, Detective, this is not a permanent transfer. You will be allowed to return home if that is your wish, when I can assure that I am not sending you home to be killed." His windows darkened to prevent anyone from seeing her as he reversed up the ramp of the plane, coming to a halt just before his bumper scraped Ratchet's grill. They were the only two Autobots in the hold, the rest of the space taken up with cargo and men.

"You can't just decide these things for me. It's my life, Prowl." Even if the threat was real, she deserved a say!

"As your Guardian, I can. It is my duty to protect you." No apology or regret in his tone.

"It wasn't your right to name yourself my Guardian!" she snapped, her temper nearing its limits as the ramp doors raised, cutting off the daylight.

"You," Prowl paused, for once uncertainty lacing his words, "do not wish for me to be your Guardian?"

Darcy blew out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a moment to reign in her tongue before it said something she would regret.

"It is not you I am opposed to. There is no one else I would rather have." Jazz, perhaps, would be the only contender, but even he lacked the connection she had with the tactician, even if they didn't always agree. "But it was a decision about me made without me. I still do not understand what it fully entails, only that I'm being forced to this island base on the other side of the world. The dam was one thing, it was temporary, it was still my own country, and home was a drive away. This island….you can't give me any estimate of how long I'd be there, it's a foreign place, and I'd be trapped there."

Her speech was beginning to ramble, so she snapped her jaw shut, blinking away the burn in her eyes. It sounded so foolish said aloud, so inconsequential. He'd lost his planet, nothing but her job was truly lost to her, only temporarily displaced. Yet it still mattered to her, still mattered that she'd had so little say in her life since she'd made that fatefully intercepted call to the FBI.

Prowl sat quietly for several long moments, the roar of the engines firing up muffled by his frame. Though he stayed impeccably still as the plane lurched into motion, Darcy could feel as it moved down the tarmac, turning towards the strip that would allow them to take off. Her heart beat rapidly in her ears.

"I apologize for not conferring with you before announcing my desire for Guardianship. I had not intended to make it known so soon, though I did not see any other option to keep you safely under our protection. NEST soldiers are proficient in their abilities to do their duty, but they cannot match my own and I do not trust your government to take actions which have your best interests in mind. I assure you that this island is not a permanent station. It will be a temporary stay for you." It was probably the longest string of words she'd ever heard from him.

Nor did it pass her notice that he said he hadn't planned on announcing his desire for Guardianship so soon, meaning he'd intended it eventually. Which had to mean…something. They talked of Guardianship too seriously for it to just mean protective duty, she just didn't know what. But if it was the only option his super-computer brain could think of, then it was probably the only one that existed.

Didn't mean she had to like it.

No, she decided as the plane gained speed, she did not have to like it one bit. But there was no longer a choice in the matter.

The plane lifted from the ground, sealing her fate.

Darcy dropped her face into her hands and let out a strangled groan. She supposed now was a bad time to admit that she hated flying. "How long is this flight going to be?"

"Approximately 27.467 hours, provided refueling progresses smoothly."

Of course it will.

She groaned again, letting her head fall back against the leather seat. Over a day she would be stuck on this plane. And then the island would follow, for who knew how long.

"Are you well, Detective?"

She rolled her eyes towards the dash, feeling her stomach drop as the plane sharply gained altitude. "On top of everything….no, I don't like flying."

"There is nothing to fear, I have tapped into the plane's system. I will know if anything is wrong before the pilots are aware." That wasn't half as assuring as he probably thought it was.

"It's not the crashing that worries me, I just don't like the feeling." She never understood how anyone could relax in a metal tube thousands of feet above where any human had any business being. The only thing between them and a long drop to Earth was a relatively thin sheet of metal.

As strong as they were, she didn't think the Autobots were immune to gravity either.

Amusement tinged his tone for a brief moment. "Ironhide has similar feelings. If you wish, I am sure Ratchet can assist you to sleep through the journey."

She snorted, eyeing the medical truck behind them warily. "No thanks. I may dislike it but I'd rather be conscious for it anyway."

At least for now, her mind could change after ten hours in the air.

It did not, but nor did her stomach settle enough to choke down a MRE when they were passed around. Prowl said nothing the first time she refused, only releasing a quiet but audible vent. When the second round came and she waved them off again, he admonished her. "You need to eat, Detective."

Darcy looked up from the tablet Prowl had provided, packed with electronic copies of all the case files she'd been digging through. Not that she could connect much this way, hard copies were always her preferred media, but it was something to occupy her mind during the long hours. A brief attempt had been made to venture away from the Autobot to converse with the soldiers, but as luck would have it, none of the few she knew had made it onto this plane.

"I'm not hungry." Her attention dropped back to the tablet. Even if she was, she doubted her swirling stomach could handle anything put into it. The plane flew fairly steady, but the turbulence was just enough to keep her from forgetting exactly where she was. "I can eat when we land."

The tablet flickered in her hand, shutting off and refusing to come back on. "That is too long for you to go without nourishment. I thought we had curbed you of this habit."

She rolled her eyes skyward, dropping the tablet into the empty driver's seat. No doubt it would not work again until Prowl allowed it. "I don't like flying, so I don't feel like eating. It won't hurt me any to skip a few meals this one time."

"Care to explain that to Ratchet?" Despite neither Autobot moving an inch, the medic's grill appeared to loom bigger, more threatening.

She scowled at him, "It really isn't a big deal and certainly no need to bring Ratchet into it."

"On the contrary, as I am your Guardian, that makes Ratchet your medical officer." It sounded as if he took some sort of pleasure in that, or at least amusement.

Darcy huffed, this arrangement was going to be a giant pain.

"If I eat right now, I will puke on your seats. I'll be fine without, I'm not that fragile." She pushed against his door, finding it unbudging. "But I could use a walk to stretch my legs."

"You will not skip the third meal, Detective." An order if she'd ever heard one.

Still, he opened his door and allowed her to exit, which she did without hesitation. She was stiff from sitting so long, even if his seats were far more comfortable than those the soldiers were sprawled in. Blowing out a breath, she stalked away from the Charger and towards the front of the cargo hold. There wasn't much room to move around. What space wasn't taken up by the soldiers was occupied by cargo and the Autobots.

Ratchet's back door swung open as she reached him, effectively cutting off her path unless she ducked under it. The temptation was nearly irresistible to do so, but it was hardly like there was any place to go on this plane where some version of himself could not reach, and there were still hours to go in the flight.

"Care to join me for a moment, Ms. Blake?"

She sighed, climbing into the back of the rescue truck and resigning herself to another argument over missing a few lousy MREs.

"I swear it's not a hunger strike or anything like that, I just don't like flying." Better to get it out of the way as quickly as possible. It wasn't as if she could bullshit the medic anyway.

His chuckle took her by surprise. "I am not concerned over a few missed rations. You are hardly the only human on this plane who does not eat when in the air."

Well, unexpected, but she wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth.

The medic continued as she took a seat on the bench. "Rather, I wanted to speak with you about Prowl."

"Prowl?" Was something wrong with him? He seemed a little more…touchy today, but that did not seem wholly unexpected given the potential return of Megatron looming over them.

"The Guardianship he claimed over you."

Ah. That.

"He told me he couldn't think of anything else that would prevent NEST from sending me home before it was safe, that it means he's basically my bodyguard that I follow." She let her head thunk back against Ratchet's wall, squeezing her eyes shut. She may have understood his logic, but sometimes logic should just take a hike.

"It is…slightly more complicated than that."

Her eyes opened, narrowing at the metal around her. "Define complicated."

"Guardianship is deeper than a mere promise of protection, it involves a fundamental code switch in the Cybertronian's processor. It is not a claim that we make lightly." Which probably said a lot given that Prowl was the one to make it, but from a logical standpoint…well, he probably felt responsible for her since she'd spent the most time with him.

"A code switch. Are you saying he's going to start mother henning me?" Wouldn't Jazz have a field day with that.

"Not quite to that extreme, but he will be unable to ignore anything he deems a potential threat to your well-being." And a logically-driven 'bot like Prowl would certainly see skipping a meal or two as a threat to her well-being. Good grief.

Darcy released a heavy sigh. "So what, am I like his pet now?"

Given the difference in lifespans and size it probably put her on the level of a cat….or a hamster. Well, she knew just where to shove a hamster ball if he really had just adopted her like some stray.

"No, it is not like that." He vented, as if questioning how far down the rabbit hole he was willing to go. Well, he'd started this conversation, and there were still hours to go before the plane would touch ground again. "We are not a species capable of reproduction like you organics."

For the briefest moment, Darcy's traitorous brain threw up such a cursed image that she wished she could permanently delete it from memory. Gross.

"Jazz told me a little about the Well and sparks coming from your god…or something." She'd never thought beyond it when he'd first told her about it, but now that the idea was in her head, she couldn't help but wonder if they were ever…children. Once upon a time, millennia ago, had Prowl stood no taller than her? It didn't seem likely or even possible, yet it seemed even stranger to think of a being coming to life and just downloading whatever knowledge they would need to get through life as full adults, never to change their appearance or size. How was size even determined? Pre-ordained by their god? Luck? Whatever empty body was lying around?

"Yes, Primus creates new life and those sparks leave the Well when they are mature enough to bond to a protoform. They are small and lack the ability to build armor or change their forms. They are taken in and raised by mature Cybertronians. Guardianship creates a bond between the two, not unlike a blood bond in organics."

"So he…adopted me?" She wasn't sure which was honestly worse, to be considered his pet or his child.

"Guardianship is not limited to sparklings. It can be claimed for any being of any age, typically one of a smaller size than the Guardian."

She furrowed her brow. "So technically speaking, you could claim Guardianship of Jazz, since he's smaller than you?"

"If I despised my own sanity enough to be bonded to that 'bot, yes, I could." Given his tone, he failed to find any humor in the idea.

"So Guardianship is claiming someone as family," she scrunched her nose, "is it one-sided unless the other returns the claim?"

Was there going to be some expectation of her now? She certainly hoped not.

"No, it does not work the same for organics, but it creates a bond between the sparks of the two involved. They can feel each other, in a sense. It is a risk to the Guardian, an unnatural end to their charge tears the bond. It is an injury to the spark that cannot be repaired. I have seen 'bots driven mad by the loss, until they themselves became a threat to all those around them."

Darcy's eyes widened, her gut sinking. "You mean Prowl could go mad when I die?"

How in the hell was that option in any way logical? It was the opposite of logical! It was idiotic!

"Unlikely. For one, it is the Guardians not in control of their emotions that tend toward insanity." Well, that was good news at least, Prowl was probably the least emotional living being she'd ever met. "For another, a proper bond requires two sparks. It is physically impossible for him to form the bond with you. When you pass on, there will be no damage to his spark."

So it wasn't as serious with her as it would have been with another Cybertronian. She supposed that made perfect sense then. All the benefits of keeping the human government out of things, none of the risks involved with claiming it with one of his own kind.

"So it's not really that big of a deal then, since it's me. Just a convenient means to an end." That made her feel ironically better about it. At least Prowl wouldn't end up hurt at the end of things, whether it be this year or decades from now.

"He cannot form the bond with you, but that does not reduce the meaning of his claim. As I said, it is a fundamental change in his coding to prioritize your safety, and he will not have the bond to assure him of such when you are out of his sight."

Darcy rubbed a tired hand over her face. Risking the danger to go home sounded like it was really the more logical decision here. What the hell had Prowl been thinking? "So he is going to mother hen me?"

"For a time, possibly, until he learns to adjust to the change. Just have patience with him, he has never claimed Guardianship before."

Darcy couldn't help but bluster for a moment. "And I just get no say in this?"

Ratchet paused, "A bond can be denied when the claim is made, or the sparks can block the bond from forming if they are not compatible. I confess that claims to organic beings are not common, and those that have been made have not been met with…resistance."

Right, she was the first meat sack to not jump for joy over gaining a permanent bodyguard who would take personal offense to skipping a meal or stubbing a toe.

"Do not fret, Ms. Blake, Prowl will remain himself, and I have little doubt that he will curb the programming should you still desire to leave us." The words should have been a relief, but there was something in Ratchet's tone that suggested ignoring the programming to let her leave was not quite as simple and painless as it sounded. If he would fret simply because he couldn't see her, what damage would it do to his mind for her to be gone, far from his ability to protect?

And could she, knowing that, leave anyway?

She let her head knock against the metal several times, the echo of slamming doors ringing in her ears.

Damn him. Damn the Autobots and Decepticons and this whole damn mess.

"Ms. Blake," Ratchet broke the temporary silence he'd allowed her to stew in, halting her abuse of her skull and bringing her attention back to him. "It is not a trap, nor need it be permanent, but it is a demonstration of his high regard for you. That, I would not take lightly."

Why he had such regard for her, she hadn't a clue. It wasn't as if she solved crimes at any level near to his ability, or had done anything to critically aid the Autobots. Perhaps it was merely dumb luck, maybe she was the first detective he'd ever met. "It's not permanent?"

If it wasn't permanent, then why the big deal over it? It involved some kind of bond and code switching but if they could just…turn it off, then it wasn't really that special, right?

"No, not entirely. Some sparklings eventually surpass their Guardians in size and strength, and the bond is no longer needed. Some bonds fade with distance and time. Those bonds fade and close, but they do not break. It is like…a fishing line where once was a living vine." She wondered if Rachet had ever made such a bond, if he had a vine or a thin line to remind him of what once was there.

That they could form a literal sparkbond with one of their own was itself a thing of wonder that she could barely wrap her mind around. "But what about Guardianships with organics?"

As interesting as it was learning more about their own culture, in this particular instance it was how it was going to work for her that she was concerned about. Prowl likely wouldn't go insane when she died, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt him if she left and he couldn't turn the Guardianship off.

"With enough time, the programming will fade." With enough time, Prowl could forget about this momentary lapse in judgment. With enough time, he would go back to himself.

Though Ratchet had conveniently failed to mention how much time would be enough. Her own lifespan was so small compared to his. Would enough time be a year or a century?

The unknowns felt endless and a distant part of her mind whispered that it was her inability to understand that bothered her. It was done. Guardianship had been claimed. Prowl knew what he was doing. He wouldn't have done it on a whim or without considering every detail of what he was doing. All it would affect her was this detour to Diego Garcia, and perhaps Prowl's holoform appearing with food a little more often until he adjusted.

Her mind darted in circles. She trusted him and he knew what he was doing. Then again, he'd never claimed it before, so maybe he didn't. But if there was no real bond to form to prove it, maybe he'd said the words without really meaning them. Maybe the touchy behavior was just exhaustion and stress after all. It wasn't as if the government would know if a claim was real or not. It would have been the more logical choice. Unless of course, there was some way the other Autobots could tell if he lied, if they would out him for it. But he knew what he was doing and she should trust that.

The pressure behind her eyes built in strength and tempo, thumping an irritating rhythm against her skull.

Ratchet's interior lights dimmed, as if he could sense her building headache. He probably could. "It is late, Ms. Blake, you should get some rest. You may do so here if you prefer."

She blinked, glancing at the gurney that took up the other side of the truck. It was certainly roomier back here than it was in Prowl's backseat. "Uh, thanks Ratchet, but I'm okay for now."

The medic may intimidate her less stuck in his vehicle mode as he was, but she wasn't that comfortable.

His rear door popped back open. "Then I suggest you go find rest where you will get it, and instruct Prowl to recharge before I put him into stasis lock."

She snorted, well, that answered that question. Yes, Ratchet was willing to at least threaten to knock Prowl out like he'd done to Jazz. "I'll see what I can do."

The noise outside of the rescue truck had declined severely from when she entered, the roar of the plane's engines drowning out any remaining conversations going on. Overhead lights had dimmed to red, and coming around Ratchet's side revealed a good portion of the soldiers slouched and spread wherever they could find the space to sleep. Returning to Prowl was a far more tedious process than leaving him had been with the new obstacles.

There really wasn't any reason to return to him. Despite the cramped conditions, there was room for her to sit among the men.

Prowl's door opened silently as she came closer, inviting her back to his seats which he'd laid down again for her to sleep. She climbed in, the door shutting behind her, cutting off the rumbling engines.

She'd never be able to sleep out in all that racket anyway.

His tinted windows put her in near perfect darkness, a soft breeze of warm air chasing away the chill of the plane.

Maybe a nap to pass some of the flight wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Ratchet says to sleep or he's knocking you out himself," she told him, closing her eyes.

"I shall recharge while you sleep. Rest well, Detective."

His frame settled, the sigil on his steering wheel dimming as he did exactly that.

Darcy sighed, hoping that when she opened her eyes again, there'd be firm ground beneath her feet.

Captain: Whelp, Prowl did that. For anyone curious, the aspects of Guardianship are my own headcanon for how I think it'd work within their culture/crossing over to humans and attempting to put it in human terms. I wanted to make it an actual 'thing' rather than just signing up to be someone's bodyguard. Let me know what you think!