A/N: And we're officially caught up! I'm thinking about making an upload schedule so this kind of catch up is less likely to be needed. I am eager to write AND share this story, so maybe I could bring myself to post on a schedule even if I complete chapters ahead of it? I don't know, we'll see. I'll play around with the idea in the next coming days.

Chapter 9: Trouble Unseen Pt 2

The Autobots, number grown too large to all gather in the previously established tent now, were gathered in the cargo bay of the damaged ship the new arrivals had arrived on. All, except Shadebreaker, Ironhide, Prowl and Optimus. They murmured amongst themselves as Jazz looked out at them and listened. Listened to get the general idea of how they were feeling and for hints at who might be the traitor.

Jazz knew some of these bots already. Ratchet, Bumblebee and Bulkhead had served with him on the Ark. And then, of course, were the twins, who were chatting it up with Bumblebee. Wheeljack and Arcee were the ones he knew the least amount about, but that could easily be rectified.

Jazz ran a mental list of the suspects:

Ratchet, the Chief Medical Officer and Optimus's oldest friend next to Jazz himself.

Bumblebee, the young scout, the last to emerge from the AllSpark, semi-mute mech of whom it was difficult, but not necessarily impossible, to mimic.

Bulkhead, former Wrecker, hard to imagine a bot like Makeshift taking him down easily.

Arcee, the one he knew the least about. He remembered hearing her name from Ironhide when the mech was talking about Chromia once and he knew she'd been acting as Optimus's second-in-command up to now. He intended to learn more.

Wheeljack they had already ruled out due to the timing, but he'd keep an optic on him, too. Just in case.

The twins had just arrived with him, so they knew it wasn't either of them. Jazz had asked Optimus if they were going to inform them of Shadebreaker's innocence and they had come to the conclusion that letting the twins think she was guilty was perhaps the biggest sell for the act. Anyone who knew the twins knew how they treated traitors. If they gave Shadebreaker slack, the real Makeshift would suspect something.

Optimus stepped into the room on the second level balcony then silence fell over the room as everyone looked up to see him walk up to the railing and wrap his fingers around it.

"Autobots," he said as Ironhide stepped up beside him. "I regret to inform you we have discovered a spy amongst us."

There was a murmur and Jazz watched each bot's reaction carefully, noting each one. The frowns. The worried looks. The looks of suspicion shared. The scowls. The looks of accusation. The irritation. And he watched as they all seemed to register who it was that was missing at once and their collective reactions to that too.

"But," Optimus said. "Rest assured. For we have already captured the culprit." He stepped aside to allow Prowl to usher Shadebreaker to take his spot, hands cuffed for show for this farce of a scene. "Shadebreaker admitted to Prowl leading us to that pyramid as a trap intended to take us all out."

Shadebreaker did remarkably well not showing a reaction to the shouts from her fellow bots at this, as Jazz watched her with one optic while the other kept an optic on the gathered bots. She stood there, posture straight, expression resolute, wings held as high as the cuffs let her. She only flinched when locked gaze with Ratchet and he turned away from her in disgust, pain clear on his face.

Interesting. Jazz observed. But what he found more interesting was the silence from a couple other bots. Interesting indeed.

Prowl stepped up to explain the course of action they were taking with Shadebreaker in the absence of a proper brig. She'd be cuffed by the wings at all times. Have a guard at all times. She was allowed access to subspace only for her datapads and energon cubes, nothing else. She would not be allowed off base for any reason. Would not be allowed to formally join the Autobots—she flinched at that one despite knowing it was an act.

After the speech, Prowl and Ironhide both ushered Shadebreaker back through the door and Optimus turned to dismiss the bots before leaving himself. The bots left behind were left to wonder amongst themselves what was going on and how they had been fooled by the femme and if it could possibly even be true.

"You need your energon," Ironhide said for what felt like the fifty-millionth time in the last two hours.

"I'm not hungry," I said, staring at the datapad in my hand as I sat in the sand.

Ironhide had agreed to walk with me to the beach after the meeting. So I could be away from the immediate reactions of the Autobots. But we'd been out here four hours now and he was getting irritable.

"Don't lie," Ironhide gruffed.

"I'm not lying," I said.

"Shadebreaker," Ironhide growled.

"I'm scared of Ratchet, ok?" I finally said, putting the datapad down and looking at the black mech who sat in front of me.

He looked back at me in surprise.

"I know what words he has for me. They're the same words I have said to someone I once had in my own life," I said. "They're the words I would have for me if I was him. And they're going to hurt a lot from him. I told him about that ex-friend and now he believes me to be just like them. Just like the friend I stopped talking to because they refused to change and I couldn't take it anymore. A lying, manipulative piece of shit with no care for how I hurt people along the way." My frame shook in both anger and pain and I squirmed at how it made the uncomfortableness of the cuffs much more noticeable. Then I sighed heavily and ran a hand down my face.

"I know I need energon," I said. "But I feel sick thinking of eating right now. My spark just hurts. It hurts so much right now."

"Aw, femme," Ironhide said and I could hear the spark break in his own voice.

"And the fact Ratchet hasn't come out here to bring me my energon or commed me about it tells me enough about how angry he is," I said, looking down. "He is very good about reminding me when I am caught up in work." I waved at the datapads.

"You still need to eat." Ironhide said.

"I know," I said.

Ironhide shifted, looking up at the hill to his left. "Tell you what," he said. "Since you're not ready to face Ratchet's wrath, why don't we go to the ship and I can drop you off with Prowl while I grab some cubes from the stores? Primus knows Prowl probably needs a reminder himself."

"Alright," I said, relaxing some. "That's a fair compromise. I know I'm going to have to face the wrath at some point."

"I doubt you're going to be able to hide from everyone the whole time," Ironhide agreed.

"I can sure try, though," I said, smiling ruefully. "Somewhat. I'm sure you guys won't always be able to bring me out to the beach to work…plus the others are likely to come to the beach at points as well."

Ironhide helped me gather the datapads and make sure they were clear of sand before I put them in my subspace. Then we shook out the tarp and folded it up neatly and tight and put it away as well. After that was done, we used the hose to rinse off the sand that clung to our armor before making the trek back to the ship we had earlier vacated.

The trip to the ship was silent, Ironhide couldn't risk conversing with me as if we were friends once we could be seen cause it could ruin the illusion. Occasionally he would lightly "jab" me as if to push me to move faster when I hesitated to glance at a passing person. The humans had seemingly caught on to what was going on, cause even the ones I'd made friends with scowled at me as we passed. It hurt, but not more than I'd expected.

It hurt more to see the scowls on the twins' faces when we passed by them. I may not know them, but I knew enough about them to hope to be friends with them and care that they thought I was a traitor. I also knew their reputation. I was a little scared of running into them at what to them would be an opportune moment. I was a little surprised they didn't come harass me anyways.

We made it to the ship without incident, though. No one stopped us, by some miracle. Or maybe it was because it was Ironhide and no one messed with Ironhide. I remembered referring to him as the crazy gun-toting uncle and that hadn't been for nothing.

"Prowl's probably in the storage room we'd converted to a war room of sorts," Ironhide said. "It's where he does all his data sorting."

I nodded as I followed his gentle directions via touch as I walked just in front of him. I froze a few steps into the mentioned room, having looked up to greet Prowl when he noticed us only to see Ratchet right there. Having turned from talking to Prowl. He had had his normal gruff look on his face, but upon seeing me his look darkened into a scowl I'd never seen on his face before. It took tremendous effort not to flinch away.

"I brought Shadebreaker for your turn on guard duty," Ironhide said, likely to cover up the real reason we'd come here—intending to avoid Ratchet while getting energon in my system.

Prowl nodded. If this turn of events threw him off, he didn't show it. "Understood," he said.

Ratchet moved toward us and I moved quickly out of his way so he could pass. He paused when he was parallel to me, not looking at me. Then he shoved a cube of energon into my chest.

I fumbled a little when I took it into my hands, whole frame shaking as it felt like my spark was being ripped out of my chest. Then I watched as he left without a word. I looked down at the energon cube silently, waiting for Ratchet to have a chance to be well out of earshot.

"And here I thought it would be the words that would hurt most," I said quietly as I felt a tear fall.

Ironhide reached over and rubbed my shoulder. "We'll get through this, fembot."

I gusted air through my systems, whole frame shuddering, and wiped away tears that spilled out. "I don't suppose I could…pass on the energon…"

"If you do not want to get hooked up to an IV when you inevitably crash, and face the full brunt of Ratchet's wrath, I would suggest you drink it," Prowl told me.

"If I puke, it's on you, then," I said, tilting the cube slightly toward.

Prowl looked slightly disturbed.

I ignored him and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until I was sitting and began slowly drinking the cube. Maybe if I drank it slow enough I would be ok. I watched Ironhide go over to Prowl and talk to him quietly. Prowl's optics were covered by a visor like mine, but his doorwings were expressive enough I could read some surprise and then concern when he looked my way again. I wondered what that was about briefly before dismissing it. They spoke a little bit longer before Prowl turned back to his work and then Ironhide came back over to me and knelt.

"I'm going to speak with Prime," Ironhide said quietly. "Gotta make it look like I really was dropping you off for Prowl's turn at guard duty." He shrugged.

I shrugged as well. "You can relay the locations of two more artifacts while you're at it. I managed to pinpoint another Omega Key somehow with the limited information about it I had, maybe we can confirm if they exist or not this time. And the Resonance Blaster. Both of them were pretty tricky ones. I've gotten through almost the whole list. Only two locations left. Just need to fetch them all—hopefully."

"We'll keep that you're almost done to ourselves, huh?" Ironhide said quietly. "It might get dangerous if word gets out you've nearly run out of places to send us to our potential doom."

"Heh," I chuckled without humor. "I believe that. I've kept secrets for nigh on ten years. I think I can pretend like I had a shit ton more to do."

"Good," Ironhide said, patting my shoulder.

I pulled a datapad out from substance and passed it to him. "Just give that to Optimus. He has the code to access it."

"You got it," Ironhide said.

I watched him leave for a moment and then just focused on my energon.

Ratchet stormed back into medbay in a bad mood. He was angry, but most of all he was hurt. It had taken everything in him not to lash out at Shadebreaker with everything he had when she'd walked into that room where he'd been talking to Prowl. All that talk from her of being a bot of her word, of carrying herself with honor. Pfft. All an act. All a big, fat manipulation. Exactly the thing she'd claimed to detest.

His spark ached at how they had almost lost a number of their team. Almost lost Optimus. Because they had trusted her. Trust her sweet face and act of dedication to the cause of minimizing the damage from the Decepticon having her information first. Clearly this had been Megatron's plan all along.

And he had fallen for it. For her.

His spark twisted at this thought as he leaned against his medbay counter, grateful no one appeared to be in the tent right now. Everyone was on patrol or on the practice range, or doing some other duty while they managed the results of finding out they'd had a spy among them. They weren't there to see him hurl a wrench into the most solid object in the tent—a stack of solid metal supply boxes.

He collapsed, sitting on the nearest bed as he ran a hand over his optics. Wheeljack had been right, he was realizing now. To a degree. He had found himself developing feelings for the femme. He hadn't been letting himself acknowledge them, but they were there as much as he denied it. She was still hurting from losing her last romantic partner, a partner she had loved deeply from what he'd gathered. So he'd dismissed his feelings as simple care for a new friend. There was no way she was ready to even think about romance again.

Unless that had been part of the act. He didn't know.

Had anything she said been real?

How could he be so blind?

How could he let his spark open like that?

It was the last time all over again.

He needed to do something to get his mind off things. The last parts had finally arrived to start work on the Ground Bridge. He should work on it. They were gonna need it all the more now that their easy transportation was a traitor.

He blocked out the pain in his spark as he got up and moved toward the supply boxes, comming Wheeljack to come help him.

The following days after the big reveal that I was a "traitor" were rough, but I fell into a kind of routine. Prowl often had me in the mornings, being the earliest rising trusted bot next to Optimus—and the bots who didn't know had collectively bombarded Prowl with demands that Optimus not be allowed alone with me. It hurt. Because they—with the exception of the twins—knew I had been alone with Optimus plenty of times with better chances of taking him out than now with the cuffs on me. It was like the brand of traitor made me ten times more dangerous on its own so even had I been a snail I'd be treated like a defcon alpha threat or something. With Prowl, we would sit in the ship and work on our respective tasks silently.

Ironhide would take a midday shift with me, carting me around with him as he performed maintenance checks on all our weaponry in the arsenal. When no one was around to see, he would whisper to me the details of each weapon we had at our disposal and tell me stories about before the war. Sometimes of the war if I asked the right question.

Finally, Jazz got me in the evenings. Time with him was spent a lot more casually. He saw me when I was worn down from the day, from keeping up appearing as though nothing was bothering me. As if I was unbothered by the fact I had nearly killed five Autobots. As if nothing anyone was saying was going to crack me. He thought I needed time to recover from it—and was right. So he would take me to the beach, or just to explore the parts of the island that weren't being built upon yet. Whatever would get us away from the others. And we just talked. One of us would info-dump about something or another and the other would listen. Or, if I was in need of it, he would listen while I expressed my emotions about the day's events.

I could see why Jazz was Optimus's best friend. But it was hard to think of the word friend during this time when so many were angry at me.

It was hard to be treated as a traitor by those I had started calling friends. Even though I took a while before I opened up, once I decided someone was my friend, I was all the way in there. There was no real acquaintance step with me, aside from maybe with work colleagues. You either were my friend or you weren't. I kept you at a distance or you were right there in my heart with my closest friends. No inbetween. No "you just earned this title so you don't get all my love, only a little of it." Once you got access to my love, you got all of it.

So each hard, icy look from Arcee was a stab in the spark. Each time Bulkhead shut up the moment he saw me and walked away if whatever task my guard had to do required me to be where he had been, it twisted the knife further. The twins sneered and called me names and purposely bumped me when they passed me. It hurt, but because I had not met them before that day, it didn't hurt as much.

Ratchet's behavior hurt the most, though. He hadn't said a word to me yet, but I could read his thoughts in his optics just as well every time he looked at me. Traitor. Liar. Manipulator. I could see I had hurt him the most with my made-up traitorous ways. I could see he had taken this to mean everything between us had been a lie. I didn't need to hear the words to read them on his face, in his body language, in the way he avoided me. In the way he threw himself into his work on the Ground Bridge.

Bumblebee seemed to be going easier on me, giving me looks of sympathy and motioning toward the cuffs while handsigning words—making me wish desperately I had learned sign language like I had meant to for years. I had a small impression that the mech didn't entirely buy into the idea that I was a traitor.

Wheeljack perplexed me a little bit. Everytime I caught him looking at me it was with a contemplative look on his face. He looked like he was trying to figure something out. Like he couldn't believe the farce we had cooked up. After our mission together, perhaps he had seen more of me than I had believed. Definitely more than the twins if he did doubt it. I wasn't sure if it meant that he could still be the traitor or if he was just more observant. Maybe the fact I hadn't hurt him as much contributed to his lack of hostility and ability to look at it more clearly. He was a mech of science, after all. Had I not hurt Ratchet so much, maybe Ratchet would be looking at me with the same analytical look instead of the anger and hate.

It was day four before I ran into any real trouble, however. The showers were finally complete and Prowl and I were both up at the crack of dawn. After a brief discussion we had decided that it should be safe for us to foray into the showers to use it and rid our frames of the accumulation of gunk that happened when you lived on an organic world.

"Remember, if anything does happen, just yell and I will be right over," Prowl told me as we stood in the foyer of the building, before it split into a mech side and a femme side.

I nodded. "Understood, Prowl," I said. "But no one else is typically up this early. And, if they were, it'd be for patrol, not showers."

Prowl nodded.

He knew this. He also knew I was saying it to fill the silence because I was nervous. I had warned him about that habit of mine already, because I knew he liked the silence we usually spent our mornings in. Neither of us were certain how it would go if Arcee walked in. For one, she was a suspect. For two, he didn't know her well. For three, I knew her well enough to know she had a temper.

Before I could be tempted to eat up any more of that silence, I moved quickly into the femme side of the showers. It was stocked already with soaps, each one labeled with who they were for. Not that there were many on this side. Just two. One for Arcee. One for myself. I wondered if the one who did the stocking even knew what was going on or not. Some of the humans knew, but I didn't know if they all did. But if they did, they clearly thought I would still be allowed to get cleaned. After all, I was still allowed to walk around mostly free.

I sighed at the thoughts and grabbed the one with the sticky note with my name on it. I took the sticky note off and crumbled it, putting it in my subspace. I wondered if I should put my soap in subspace when I was done as I chose a showerhead. I noticed a lack of privacy curtains and just assumed it was because Cybertronians weren't as private as humans when it came to hygiene. I wasn't here to be thorough, though, as much as I'd like to. The cuffs kinda prevented that.

I turned on the water and stepped aside to let it warm up. I wanted to shift my wings so the sensors could pick up the energies around me, but the cuffs prevented that, too. I had gotten used to the sensors in my wings letting me know when bots were approaching. Now, without them, I felt half blind. My visor at least allowed me to see lifesigns through walls, but not behind me or above or below without turning my helm. So I was left feeling rather vulnerable as I waited for the water and then as I washed.

I had just started to relax into the shower, rinsing the soap off when the consequences of being separated from my guard came. And the consequences of my sensors being tied up so I didn't get an alert until it was too late.

"I see Prowl let the traitor out of his sight," the voice was Sunstreaker's and it was dripping venom.

My wings tensed, making the cuff feel all the more uncomfortable. I'd gotten used to it, but there was no missing it when my wings wanted desperately to move. I didn't move, but I glanced over my shoulder. "I see your creators didn't teach you manners," I replied back with a controlled calm. I suspected I knew what was coming, but I knew for the sake of the act I could not act like I was afraid of him. I knew I should yell, but I found I had the same problem I had had as a human.

When faced with danger. My scream left me.

Sunstreaker sneered. He moved further into the room. "Manners don't matter when dealing with traitor scum."

I continued rinsing, counting the seconds as he walked toward me, calculating how long I had until he reached me and what I might do. He was not Makeshift, I knew that. I did not want to hurt him. I knew he wanted to hurt me, however. I had the right to defend myself. A traitor would kill him if capable and call it self-defense. It would be self-defense. But I wasn't a traitor. Not really. I didn't want to hurt him. But everything in me told me to fight. Because that's what you did when threatened with violence. You fought back. But he was a fellow Autobot. A friend. In theory, even if not in name. I didn't hurt my friends.

"I don't want to fight you, Sunstreaker," I said calmly as he grew nearer. "I merely wished to get clean. Well," I shrugged to bring attention to the cuffs. "As clean as I can get."

Sunstreaker growled and then he moved forward quickly, slamming me against the wall. The water continued running above our helms, spraying us with bits that gravity won against the water pressure for. His forearm pressed uncomfortably against my throat as he pushed me against the wall. My wings hurt where they connected at the pressure, the action he was taking forcing them into an unnatural position due to the cuffs.

"That will make this all the easier," he snarled in my face. "I don't know what you said to Prowl and Prime to get them to let you walk around like you're still one of us, but that's going to end now."

"I still have information you bots need," I said, ignoring the pain in my spark at my own words. "Important information that, if accurate, could lead to the restoration of Cybertron." I could barely get the words out because of the pressure he was putting on my neck and I realized his arm was right where my vocoder must sit. "If you kill me, the Decepticons will be the only ones with that information."

Sunstreaker snarled again. "I don't have to kill you to make my point." He grabbed my shoulders then and slammed me into the ground. But he kept his hold on me while doing so, so even though it hurt he managed to do it without it making a loud sound that would alert Prowl to what was going on. He pinned me there, one arm pinned against my back with one hand and a foot on my opposite shoulder to prevent use of the other.

Damn my inability to scream in these situations. How had I not thought about it? Why did I assume a new body would allow that problem to go away when I knew strong emotions still made me silent? I needed to talk to Prowl about an alternate form of alert, cause my comm was not working either. Jammed or down, I wasn't sure, but all I was getting from it was static.

Sunstreaker twisted my arm, grabbing it with both hands to add enough force that I felt a snap. I cried out at that, but it was a rather pitiful cry and the tears was more frustration that there was no way Prowl was gonna hear it.

"That was a really nice line on the ship," Sunstreaker said, venom in his voice. "'Only thing I'm sure of is that I don't want to see another Autobot die.' Real poetic." He put pressure on my shoulder and I felt something in it pop.

I hissed in pain at that one.

"I bet you were just laughing at all of us in your helm while you pretended to play hero, huh? What'd you really do with Ser-Ket, huh? Laugh about how naive we Autobots are together?" Sunstreaker asked. Then he grabbed one of my wings.

But before he could do anything, there was a loud BANG as the door to the showers flew open.

"SUNSTREAKER STAND DOWN!" Prowl roared.

Sunstreaker snarled.

"I mean it," Prowl said at a much more normal volume and I glanced up to see he was pointing his weapon directly at the mech's chest.

I saw Sideswipe behind him, not peeking in as I might expect, but being cuffed by Ironhide.

"Why the slag should I?" Sunstreaker asked as Ironhide came in.

"You know this is not how we treat prisoners," Prowl said. "Now. Get. Off. The. Femme. Now."

I felt Sunstreaker shift, probably watching Ironhide as he moved around us and considering his options.

"Last time I checked, we don't typically let prisoners wander around base, listen in on conversations and take showers either," Sunstreaker growled. Pressure increased from his foot and I whimpered at the pain as energon leaked out from under my shoulder armor.

"Sunstreaker, there are a lot of things you don't know," Ironhide said.

"Like what?!" Sunstreaker snapped.

"It is classified," Prowl said, wings taking on a stern tilt. "You will know in time. Now get off of Shadebreaker or I will shoot you."

Sunstreaker growled, putting more pressure on his foot on my shoulder. I was sure it was about to get literally crushed by the weight. I felt his hand on my wing grip the edge.

Then Prowl fired.

The shot hit Sunstreaker in his shoulder by my calculations and it forced him to release my wing and lean back off my shoulder.

Ironhide pounced, tackling Sunstreaker to the ground behind me.

Prowl moved forward quickly, even as I started to crawl forward, away from the snarling and angry twin. He knelt in front of me, assessing my injuries. "This needs Ratchet," he said. He placed a hand lightly on my uninjured shoulder.

I bowed my helm in acceptance. I thought about arguing with him to see Wheeljack about it instead, but I didn't have it in me to argue.

"Frag you, she doesn't deserve Ratchet," Sunstreaker snarled.

I was glad he could not see the pain his words put on my face.

Prowl saw it though and he stood up, giving the twin a dark glare before walking around me. "You are lucky we do not currently have a brig to throw you in," he said firmly. "You know this is not how we treat our prisoners. All prisoners are to be treated with the respect due any living being."

"She's a traitor Prowl," Sunstreaker reminded.

Prowl looked Sunstreaker over. "She did not harm you despite the fact you assaulted her when she was vulnerable and had explicit permission to defend herself. And we know she could have done damage to you had she tried given her brief mission history. She chose not to. Think about that while you and your brother stew in the ship for the next two days."

"Frag you, Prowl," Sunstreaker snarled.

Steps told me Prowl was returning to me where I was laying there, listening and absently watching Sideswipe watch us. Prowl stopped next to me and knelt once more. I looked up at him, seeing a face as unreadable as a blank paper. Then he carefully helped me to my pedes.

We stood in silence while Ironhide escorted Sunstreaker out of the femme side and then directed Sideswipe to follow them. I watched as the red twin watched them pass and then look back at us. He looked me up and down once, glanced at Prowl and then scampered after Ironhide when the mech called for him forcefully.

"You should get dry before we go," Prowl said even as he moved to turn the water I'd been using off.

"How? It hurts too much to move either one of my arms," I replied, tone tired. I was just tired. Four days. That was all it took before someone decided to take matters into their own hands. Not to mention the rest.

Prowl considered for a moment. "I will assist you, but we must be quick before Arcee comes." He moved toward the towels.

"Well, that's a lovely thought," I said sarcastically. "Maybe if she does I can be assaulted twice in one morning."

Prowl shook his helm. "She will not assault you with me here," he said as he approached me with a fluffy white towel. "And I would not leave you alone over here again. Not until this is over."

"Guess I just won't shower until then," I said dryly as he started carefully drying my shoulder. I did my best not to flinch.

"Why did you not yell for me as I told you to?" Prowl asked.

"My vocs glitched," I answered, motioning toward them with my good hand. "I- I miscalculated, I guess. As a human in such scenarios I always found myself unable to scream. I guess I just thought having a new body meant that problem went away. It was foolish of me not to consider the possibility that it would still be a problem, especially given how I went mute after my first mission. Emotions, lovely things they are sometimes, when they negatively affect your physical capabilities."

I sighed heavily. "My instinct was to fight back."

"Why didn't you?" Prowl asked. "You had permission."

"Because I know Sunstreaker is not Makeshift," I replied. "And I know how he feels. Everything he wanted to do to me is what I want to do to Makeshift. I didn't want to do any of that to him. He's a good mech, if misguided. I didn't really wanna hurt him. And I've been in enough tussles since ending up in this mess to know I could've if I reacted fast enough. So I confused my instincts long enough where I couldn't anymore."

Prowl took a step back to stare at me for a moment, towel in one hand. "You are a…"

"Self-sacrificing wreck?" I asked, grinning wryly. "I know."

Prowl merely shook his helm at me. Then he finished helping me dry off and then we were off. We did, in fact, pass by Arcee on the way out, and I avoided eye contact with her.

"No," Ratchet said firmly. "Get that traitor out of my medbay."

"Ratchet," Prowl said even as Shadebreaker shrank at the medic's ire. "You cannot deny her medical care just because she is not an Autobot. Section Zelta Subsection 4250B of the Autobot handbook states that all prisoners have access to proper medical care provided on the base at which they are being held. That is your expertise."

Ratchet growled, looking like he might keep arguing with Prowl.

Prowl kept his wings firm and his expression neutral. He would stand his ground and Ratchet would bend and provide Shadebreaker with the care she needed. It was unlike Ratchet to deny anyone care. He was the kind of mech who would treat even the worst Decepticon if they came into his medbay, especially if Optimus asked him to. Ironhide had told him he suspect Ratchet had broken some kind of bond with Shadebreaker upon learning she was a traitor. This meant the perceived slight had hurt the medic a great deal and that accounted for the hostilities.

Still, the longer the two mechs stared at each other, the more Prowl wondered whether he and Jazz were looking the most closely at the wrong bots.

Then, finally, as if reading his thoughts and doubts, Ratchet sighed, relenting. "Fine, bring her in." He moved away to gather what he knew he'd need.

Prowl almost sighed in relief. But he knew they were not out of the woods. Ratchet was still a suspect himself, after all. He doubted Makeshift had garnered enough skill in the med field to impersonate Ratchet, but the possibility was there. He'd have to watch the medic while he worked like a cyber-hawk.

He guided Shadebreaker gently over to one of the medbay beds while taking a look around the tent to see who was there. That's when he saw Optimus just extricating himself from a conversation with one of the humans and coming over.

"What has happened?" Optimus asked.

"We went to the showers this morning, thinking it would be safe," Prowl said. "It was a miscalculation. The twins slipped in while I was occupied and Sunstreaker assaulted her while Sideswipe stood watch. They planted a jamming device so she could not comm anyone for help and her vocs glitched, preventing her from calling out."

"And Sunstreaker?" Optimus asked as Ratchet neared the bed again.

"Stewing in the ship with his brother," Prowl replied. "Uninjured, except for a shot from myself and some scuffs from Ironhide." He finished in Praxian, knowing Optimus would understand it while Ratchet wouldn't.

Ratchet glanced at him at that, narrowing his optics slightly, but then turned toward Shadebreaker, running a scan on her shoulder first.

Optimus placed a hand on Prowl's shoulder.

"We thought you were on patrol this morning," Prowl whispered in Praxian.

"I had to ask Ironhide to take it, because something came up," Optimus replied.

"I see," Prowl said. "It's a good thing. You take different routes. Ironhide's was closer and he noticed the door ajar by just a touch and went to investigate. Any later and this might be a completely different conversation."

Optimus hummed solemnly.

"Do you two have anything better to do than talk ominously in Praxian in front of my patient?" Ratchet asked grouchily.

"Not really," Prowl said, allowing a rare glint of mischief flash across his visor.

Shadebreaker chuckled slightly at that, but she sobered when Ratchet glared darkly at her. Her expression fell and it was obvious she was doing her best not to break into tears at the medics harsh treatment of her.

Despite his harsh manner, however, Ratchet was still gentle when he removed her shoulder in order to get a better look at her mangle joint. Prowl internally winced at the sight. Sunstreaker had very nearly completely crushed it and it was clearly out of socket.

"This is going to need surgery," Ratchet said, lightly touching it with his fingertips. It looked like a gentle and reassuring touch, but Prowl knew he was merely gathering information with the tiny sensors in his fingertips.

Shadebreaker bowed her helm and looked at her hands, palm up on her knees. She was tired, both Prowl and Optimus could see that. She was tired and hurting and Ratchet would see it too if he wasn't blinded by his own pain.

"Just as I finally got you out of my medbay," Ratchet grouched, moving away to prep a sedative.

Shadebreaker took in a gust of air as if fortifying herself against a wave of assault. Ratchet's words probably felt like an assault to the poor femme. Her frame shook a little and then she gusted the air out. By the time Ratchet returned, she looked unbothered, but Prowl and Optimus both knew that wasn't true. They also knew they couldn't say anything without ruining the cover. The three of them were not the only ones in the tent after all.