"Keep busy at something: a busy person never has time to be unhappy."

— Robert Louis Stevenson

Chapter 4: All my dreams, torn asunder

The last time Optimus Prime returned to his team after going MIA was right after recovering from amnesia, following the Unicron crisis. It had been the Autobots' darkest hour (up until that point). A time they endeavored through despair and lack of guidance. In the end, they were rewarded with the return of their leader, memories and Primehood restored. The moment the 'Bot leader returned to base, he found himself warmly welcomed by all of Team Prime. A return of rejoice and renewed hope for the future.

This return was anything but. The Jackhammer landed on what used to be a plaza of sorts and Optimus was the first to exit. Fellow Autobot's greeted him with relief and hope. But it was tainted with weariness, a twinge of melancholy induced by bitter defeat. It was a familiar feeling from the later, darkest stages of the War for Cybertron and the more hopeless days here on Earth. And today was the most hopeless of them all.

As such, in Optimus' vast experience with such times, there was but one way to keep hope alive. "Wheeljack and I have safely dismantled and transported the groundbridge aboard. Ratchet, you are incharge of reassembling it."

"I can assist with the heavy lifting." Bulkhead volunteered.

"Ep, ep, ep! Not without my thorough supervision." the medic intervened but didn't protest and the two went inside the vessel to bring the necessary parts. On his way in, Bulkhead and Wheeljack greeted one another, though not in the usual Wrecker style of 'chest-bumping', as Miko called it. Neither was in the mood for it, anyways.

Optimus proceeded to deliver orders to the rest of the team, mainly to unload the rest of the cargo, which included salvaged tools and a thin stock of energon. For the moment, Ratchet assumed command of the operation, deciding where everything went.

As the leader assisted carrying some parts, he finally noticed Jack, Miko and Rafael observing from a distance. They made no movement, no inclination to come and greet him. Just observed for a short while before walking away. Optimus understood; they were there merely to be certain he had arrived safe and sound. An exhausted, even cowardly part of him was thankful that was all. He didn't feel capable of facing the children, at the moment. He feared he never would be.

The path that Jack led them through was one he had committed to memory. Not because it was fast or easy to traverse, but rather the only one where there were no statues on the way. They arrived at the house Miko had found, where they had taken residence.

Silence dominated the walk until Jack stopped. "We have to go speak to Optimus."

Miko, arms crossed over her chest, retorted. "We agreed to see the Big 'O' arrive fine and dandy. We did that. So now we're going home." She spoke in an absent tone, so different from her usual. Her eyes were focused on the ground, as if she was thinking of something entirely different, Jack wondered.

"I…I don't feel like talking to Optimus, right now. Or any of the 'Bots." Raf spoke like he didn't want to be completely listened to.

It was Jack's wish to counter those arguments, but he felt his own would be half-hearted at best. They carried on their way to their impromptu home. Suddenly, Miko turned back.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to base. I need a groundbridge, stat!"

"What? But Miko, the groundbridge is just being loaded off, piece by piece. It won't be up and running for a while."

"Then I'll wait there."

"Why?"

"None of your beeswax.

"Miko?" Raf's pleading tone halted another impending back and forth between the other two.

"I want to go home." she muttered.

Jack was confused. "We were…"

"No! My real home, back in Tokyo.

"But…"

"I'm going now!"

"Miko!" Jack called out

"What?!" she looked back at them over her shoulder.

"Please, stay. Just for now." it was the look on his face that broke through her. He was begging; Jack Darby never begged when talking to Miko. He was either talkative, chibbing or exasperated. She looked over to Raf, who also looked weak, vulnerable, supplicating. The girl's tough exterior caved in.

"Fine. I can just go whenever. Like, we're still a band. And you don't break up the band." she tried to muster a smile but achieved only a ghost of one.

Upon reaching their new unoficial residence, Raf meant to go to sleep. Jack motioned for a room upstairs to which he had moved a mattress with some bedsheets. Raf thanked him and went upstairs at a snail's pace.

"Hey, Raf do you…need anything else?"

The computer wizard halted briefly but gave no reply. Defeated, Jack leaned against a wall and dropped to the floor. All the apparent assertiveness he displayed evaporated. And Miko saw how exhausted, in more ways than one, her friend was. She opened her mouth but her words were cut off by another sound; that of her grumbling stomach.

"Hungry?" he looked at her teasingly.

"Don't mock it, Darby." she tried to dissuade him when he offered to prepare dinner. But he stated he already had something half-way done. The hunger and dullness spoke louder and she accepted. But demanded that it was a simple meal, nothing fancy.

As Jack went to cook the meal, Miko looked around the kitchen. It was spacious, fancy and well-supplied. But like the rest of the house, it didn't feel like home at all. Most noticeable was a board hanging high on the wall in a way that any person sitting at the table would be able to see it. The board had what looked like a police badge, along with a proper cap and some medals.

"Looks like one of the folks living here is a condecorated cup." she mused loudly. Jack gave a muttered agreement.

"You know, I had considered joining the force after high school."

Miko burst out laughing. "Officer Darby, scaring the daylights out of criminals! Cup Darby. Policeman Darby." she tasted the names, extending her arms for dramatic effect. "None of them sound scary. They would start calling you 'Derby'. Unless…you become a P.I. Private Investigator Jack Darby. 'You think I'm runnin' from you, punk?'" she made a terrible Clint Eastwood impression.

Jack let out a chuckle. For the first time that day, he felt relieved.

The impromptu dinner was presented: a simple dish of scrambled eggs, some pasta and bread bathed in olive oil.

"Exotic. I kinda expected a burger."

"Junk food isn't the only thing I can cook." he retorted, a little offended "I'll ask Raf if he wants some."

"Nah, let him rest. He looked a lot more tired than hungry." she said between bites of bread.

"I'll go check on him."

Now that grabbed Miko's attention. Sure, Jack was the worrywart of the band, but this was too much. She got up and blocked his way. "Okay, Jackrabbit, you're acting way too much like a helicopter mom. More so than usual. So spill; what's the deal?"

"I'm just worried."

"You don't worry that much about me. Should I be jealous?"

"Miko, let me through."

"So you can go bother him? No can do, not until you tell me what's up. Besides, what are you so afraid he'll do? Kill himself?" That last part was just a joke, a stupid little tease. However, when he grimaced at her remark. "What is it?"

No reply.

"Jack, what's going on?" She all but demanded. He was hesitant, weary, but she was determined to uncover the truth. One thing Miko Nakadai detested was being left in the dark.

"A while back, I went looking for Rad. And I found him…holding a sharp piece of scrap …against his neck." He trailed off there, unwilling to continue.

Suddenly, Miko lost what little appetite she had. She looked upwards and then at Jack. "You go get yourself some sleep. I'll check on him."

He would have protested but she got ahead of him. "Sleep. Like now, Darby. You look like you're about to pass out."

He sighed and nodded obediently. Without another word, she took off upstairs. It took her three attempts to find the room Raf was in. She burst in without knocking, startling the youngest.

"Miko! What is it?" Raf turned on a light, jumpscared by her entrance.

Miko realized as usual she had charged in without a proper plan. The only plan she could immediately think of was inquiring: 'Hey, Raf, have you been having thoughts about killing yourself?'. That would go over catastrophically well.

"Uh, nothing! Just…wondering if you're hungry?"

"No, thanks. Anything else?"

"Uh…mind if I sleep here?" She blurted out, another unplanned course of action.

"No. But I thought you were waiting for the groundbridge to be operational." He looked confused.

"Plenty of time tomorrow." She shrugged and installed herself in the makeshift bed. It was a single-person mattress, so they had to scoop together.

Downstairs, Jack overheard the exchange. He decided to follow Miko's demand and give sleep a chance.

3rd November 2012

1 Day AE

Before the cyberforming of Earth, what would become their new base had been disguised as an abandoned factory to human eyes. The rundown building had a car elevator that could only activated by a cybertronian input. That elevator descended to the spacious lower-levels - Site Cradle: a storage for energon with bare minimum equipment.

With the cyberforming of Earth, some of the human built infrastructure had become cybertronian-sized, including the factory. Which was a blessing in disguise as the Bots had easier access to the underground facility and a lot more room. That was what the medic casually muttered to himself as he plugged in the mainframe to the power source.

"Uh, Ratchet?"

"Bulkhead, what is it?" Ratchet's glare was painted with more irritation than usual. A result of their current situation plus the extra work he had to put in.

"Is the groundbridge ready?"

"Yes." the old Bot exhaled. "It took longer than I had hoped but it is fully operational and tested."

"We need to go somewhere."

"'We'?" Only then the medic noticed Miko standing between the green Bot's legs. So quiet and immobile she had been, her presence had gone unnoticed. "Where to, exactly?"

"Miko's hometown."

"Oh, uh…that is…" the sound of heavy footsteps marked the approach of Optimus Prime. He instantly surveyed the scene, having heard enough during his approach.

"Ratchet, open a groundbridge as Miko requests." A look from the leader silenced any protest. The familiar vortex opened in a flash. Miko muttered thanks to Optimus and climbed on Bulkhead's vehicular form. The leader instructed them to make contact with the base at regular intervals.

"Are you sure about this, Miko?" Bulkhead asked.

"Damn right, I am! Let's go already."

Ratchet closed the bridge once they departed. He looked solemnly to his friend. "That won't make her feel any better, Optimus."

"Perhaps not, old friend. But it may help her mourn."

Shinjuku, Tokyo.

Metal. Everywhere she looked was metal. Roads, buildings, cars, people...So many places she remembered been boisterous were now silent as the grave. Her hands clenched on her lap.

"It's that way." she guided him to an apartment in Shinjuku. They arrived at the destination and Miko's eyes widened like saucers.

"Miko, I'm sorry."

Instead of a row of apartment buildings, they found a line of mountains of rubble. Miko approached one of the piles. She knew she stood before what used to be the entrance of the building. Her family lived on the second floor. From where she'd scale down the rain gutter to escape being grounded in her room. At the top of the terrace, she would spend the warm summer nights looking at the view with her pet cats. All the times on her birthday, mom would make her favorite treat for breakfast, wagashi.

All that was debris, now.

She recollected at the entrance of the building, not too long ago, that her father had given her the last few words she heard from him in person:

"Miko, we are not sending you that small town as some sort of planned punishment for you. We are doing it because you can have more freedom to be yourself there. And because you may learn something from life there."

There was some joyless humor in this; by sending her overseas, they ensured her survival. Hadn't she met the 'Bots, she would be with her parents. Her biological parents, whom she didn't call as much as she now wished she had. Now she'd never have that chance.

Bulkhead approached her and lowered a giant but gentle finger on her. There were no tears to be shed. The time for crying had ended yesterday.

Before leaving, Miko's eye caught a speck of gold and brown contrasting the grey, shiny alien metal. Curiously she picked it up. It was a small locket, stained with dry blood and the words 'I LOVE NYC' engraved. Her breath was caught in her throat. Tensely she opened the locket to see her own picture smirking back at her. This was the very same item she bought upon first landing on the USA at the beginning of her exchange period. The one she sent back home to her mother.

"Bulk?" her voice broke into a sob.

"Yeah?"

"I wanna go home." she hugged his foot.

Darkmount, Nevada.

"I will not disappoint you, my liege!" the seeker bowed exaggeratedly.

"That would be refreshing, Starscream." Megatron's deadpan retort displayed his impatience for the sycophant SIC to just get a move on. Which he did as he crossed the groundbridge for the destined location.

Earlier, the Decepticon warlord had ordered the construction of three different infrastructures deemed vital to the new campaign of aggressive colonization of Earth. Starscream had been assigned to oversee one of such facilities. Knockout and Soundwave were given similar tasks, managing the other two. Along with them were gone 90% of the worker drone force. Which left Darkmount populated only with all the warrior drone force plus the Insecticon hive. That was still enough to keep the new Decepticon capital well guarded and operating decently. Still, it made the whole spire citadel relatively quiet.

Megatron left his throne and leaped over the edge of the spire, transforming and flying off northward. Nevada was a land of rocky deserts littered with mountains. Something that was rare on Cybertron. Oh, their homeworld had a handful of badlands, of course, like the vast and wilder Sea of Rust. But those were almost always flatlands. Mountain ranges were scarce. Another feature that made this world similar and yet so different from Cybertron.

Cybertron…for how long did Megatron imagine it would become his true, first conquest?

He made his landing atop a plateau, a hermit amidst the flat badland. The view looked much more like Cybertron, from there. Darkmount was a few miles away. It was so quiet, out here. Not that Darkmount was that noisy, with the bulk of its workforce elsewhere.

A sigh.

Silence. Just like oil baths, it was a rare thing in Megatron's existence. The first silence he remembered was following his escape from the mines into the pits of Kaon. That day in his youth had been the first taste of delicious freedom. Then there was the noise of the arena, then the cheering crowd, then the cries of his followers and, finally, the loudness of war.

Long ago he had dreamed his first conquest would be victoriously loud, with legions of cheering Decepticons and bowing subjugated. Yet, this new world of his was empty and quiet. Megatron was not pleased. And whatever displeased Megatron could not be allowed to stand.

As he transformed and flew back to Darkmount, he called his third-in-command. "Soundwave, make certain the workers in your post can operate without your presence for a while. Afterwards, meet me at my coordinates."

It took the silent spymaster longer than Megatron would have liked. Understandable, considering how unreliable Vehicon drones could be. By the time a groundbridge portal manifested beside Megatron, he stood amidst the ruins of the local town near Darkmount. Jasper Nevada, he believed it was called.

"Soundwave, there has been a change of plans. You must devote your attention to a project that will grant us absolute control over this world."

The silent mech followed after his leader as he paced casually, arms behind his back, through the abandoned town. Originally he had mused the thought of making it into a settlement or a watch post. It was quickly discarded; with Darkmount right around the corner what would be the point? Therefore the place was stripped of everything deemed valuable. Ironically, the only thing usable there were humans. More accurately, their cyberdormed dead frames. Truly, humans were only good when dead.

"It has come to my attention that in spite of the massive advantage we have secured," he looked back at Darkmount for emphasis. "our forces have never been lower."

It turned out the cyberformed humans had become a special alloy that could used to manufacture spare parts for a Bot's chassis. Reason why Megatron had the Vehicons collect all in the nearest locations. He noticed they had missed at least one there. He casually picked it up and continued talking as one would while checking the time on their wrist watch.

"It is time to call all our remaining brethren here. For that purpose, Soundwave, your top priority will be the broadcasting of a signal strong enough to reach all our scattered compatriots throughout the stars and summon them here." Megatron didn't even look at his most loyal follower, preferring to inspect the leftover petrified human in his palm. Curious how it looked familiar.

Soundwave's visor lit up and displayed the image of an array of giant satellite dishes, located in New Mexico.

"Utilize whatever means you deem necessary. Just make certain that this message brings as many Decepticons to this planet as possible."

Site Cradle. New Autobot HQ

"Ok, Ratchet. I'm no energon expert, but I can tell this stuff is a certified raw form of energy. Sending you the analysis." Smokescreen voice sounded over the intercom. The Elite Guard bot had been 'bridged to a coastal area in the Mediterranean Sea to gather a sample of the substance that Earth's oceans had become.

Back at the new base, Ratchet's monitor displayed the results of Smokescreen's scan. The medic hummed, inspecting the data. "It seems the raw energon, though unfit for consumption, can be easily refined."

Wheeljack added his own thoughts. "Our next topic in the agenda should be making a refinery. Luckily, I put together some personal refineries myself. Even have one aboard the Jackhammer."

Ratchet turned to him. "Unfortunately, we will require something larger than a personal model. An almost industrial sized refinery." He sighed. The Autobots were working around the clock to put the new base up and running, Ratchet especially. When they finished a big project, another more daunting one manifested itself out of necessity. An energon refinery was never needed before because the deposits mined all over the planet were already refined stashes that had been sent off Cybertron.

"Don't sound so depressed, Doc. Leave it to me."

"Are you certain?"

"I told you I built my fair share of energon refineries. Get yourself something to fuel. And then a good power down. You look like you're about to fall into stasis where you stand." the Wrecker said with a cheeky grin. As it was, the medic was too weary to give one of his grumbling retorts.

"There's still much work to do! But I could use some energon…and thank you." Ratchet spoke sincerely and departed to the storage. While he wouldn't admit it out loud, Wheeljack had been a great help, in spite of his tendency to overlook safety when indulging in engineering. Still, the Bot had been a tech expert and mechanic before the war and his expertise was much welcomed.

Ratchet preferred to take his fuel liquified when possible, so he placed a cube in the liquifier - another piece of equipment Wheeljack brought aboard his ship - and served himself a cup of the much needed blue fuel. It felt refreshing. He dared to hope that once they finished the refinery, given the vast amount of raw energon on the planet, their fuel shortages would be a thing of the past.

"Ratchet?" the medic was brought out of his musings by the soft voice of Rafael. The youngest human approached him, laptop closed under his arm. "I heard you could use some tech support."

Surprised to see the boy genius, the medic's reply wasn't immediate. "Yes, I did. But Wheeljack is of decent help. If you wish to recharge further…" he let that statement hang. Truth be told, no amount of help was unneeded. There was still much to put back in order and install, even with the engineer Wrecker's assistance. Yet, all things considered, he would rather take a double shift of more work than force the poor little one.

"No, I slept enough. I want to help. Do anything, anything at all." He half-begged, half-demanded.

"Alright, if you are certain."

"I am. I'm fine."

"You are far from fine." That's what the medic wanted to say. Instead he guided him to the assembled mainframe and instructed Rafael to plug his laptop on the human-sized USB port.

Like many of their previous working sessions, the medic and the computer whizz would work in silence. Save for exchanging status reports or the occasional comment from the boy about something regarding human culture. Those little exchanges were sometimes a tolerable distraction. Now, the old Bot actually missed them.

Occasionally, he would steal a glance at the young one. He was focused, eyes glued to his screen, finger typing quick and furious. Much more so than ever before. He tried to do -what so humans call it? -small talk to stir the boy's attention from their task, but had no idea how to start.

"You know, there hasn't been this much equipment to bring up to date since that scraplet infestation on outpost Omega One." He tried miserably.

Rafael gave the faintest of nods…and then. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, but I found a scraplet yesterday and…"

"What?!"

"Easy, Ratchet…"

"Scrap it all! Just one more concern to add to the list! How did a scraplet appear out of nowhere?"

Rafael shrugged. He did appease the medic's worries that they found no signs of any more vermin. He had smashed the scraplet and that Miko had been scouting out for more since dawn.

That short episode had been the only thing that broke the monotony of work. It was almost an hour of silent working that Arcee interrupted with a report of her own. She had been sent on a scouting mission to the coast of California where there was suspected Decepticon activity. "Arcee to base!"

"Go ahead, Arcee."

"Seems like the Decepticon are working around the clock to put this place up and running, ASAP. Looks like a facility for energon extraction and refining. And Starscream is overseeing it."

"Understood. Optimus will return shortly and…"

There was a beep from the comm, indicating another communication. Ratchet instructed Arcee to stand-by and picked it up. It was Bumblebee who had been sent on his own scouting mission. Raf didn't turn from his monitor but felt greatly relieved to hear his partner.

"Soundwave is preparing to make a galaxy-wide broadcast? But what could it be for?" Ratchet reported for Optimus, who had just returned with Bulkhead in tow. The Prime quickly decided their course of action.

"We must strike at both sites to impede the Decepticons from establishing a greater foothold on Earth. Bulkhead, Wheeljack and I will infiltrate the energon facility and sabotage it. Arcee, Bumblebee and Smokescreen will intercept Soundwave's attempt. I fear I may know what his intent is: to send a signal to all Decepticons scattered in the stars to come to Earth."

Foreboding bloomed on all present. Nobody needed or wanted more Decepticons on the planet.

Raf was way ahead of him and looking for Soundwave's signal. "Guys, it may be too late to stop Soundwave from broadcasting. But I think I can scramble his signal. It doesn't matter what he transmits if its all gibberish."

"A wise move, Rafael." the Prime nodded in approval. The very first interaction he had with any of the children since the tragedy. It was true; keeping busy distracted one from the grief. "Autobots, roll out!"

I am not a psychiatrist. If someone were going through a tragedy or a depression, I would only be able to help them by being there for them and supporting them. I don't know more than the average person. But I've been through my fairshare of traumas and my first response has always been to keep busy; work distracts you from grief. It's a very short-term solution and maybe not the healthiest, I know.

The children suffered an unimaginable loss that no human being could comprehend. Maybe their grieving won't be realistic and glossed over, but I will try to make it so. And keep in mind, I'm not writing this story for Jack, Miko and Raf to overcome their grief and loss. I don't think anyone could recover from a tragedy of this size, in real life.