"Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities."

~James Fredricks

>>•<<

It was many hours later when he returned to the lab, Shockwave immediately busying himself with three-dimensional models of what he wanted, the computer programming easy to manipulate . . . at least for him. Whether incompetents like Starscream could or not was a whole other question. One that did not need answering.

His audio receptors picked up deep intakes of air and even louder outtakes from two of the three humans. Miko, he was not surprised to learn was the loudest of them, Jack merely sighing as he slumbered on. Rafael, however, was not asleep.

From what he could tell, humans needed at least eight hours of recharge to function properly the next day. But if the little one didn't tire soon, at most he would get about four or five. His shaking and hyperventilations kept his brain on overdrive, and Shockwave couldn't think of any better solution than to just wait. His body would tire soon, and hopefully his mind would continue to function as well as it did before.

Shockwave's internal clock told him it was, in Earth time, approximately 12:43:09 p.m. at wherever their location was. A quick look told him they were somewhere above China, Asia. Approximately 12 hour difference from their mother county North America, which meant it was the middle of the night for the humans. He knew enough about them to know that humans were not nocturnal creatures, which meant that the little human was not sleeping when he needed to.

Did that concern him? Only a little. If his sleep was disrupted his mental capabilities would be impaired, and that could interfere with the experiment.

An ex-vent escaped the scientist. Humans were trivial subjects, his Predacons- both the ones in the laboratory and the one currently sleeping on the deck of this very ship -had been and still were less trouble than them. The Predacons didn't try to escape, nor had touchy edocrine systems.

Which left him with the problem of Rafael Esquivel remaining awake when he quite obviously should have been asleep. His adrenalin levels were still much more higher than normal; did humans ever run out of energy?

"You haven't stopped shaking yet." He breaks the silence, sensitive audio receptors picking up the sound of the human jolting. He turns halfway to look at the human, who had the table closest to him. The human had an unnaturally pale face, face and palms excreting more sweat than average. Clear physical signs of fear.

"I-I'm just uncomfortable." Came the stuttering reply, voice high pitched and strained. "The energon is biting into my wrists . . . c-can I get energon poisoning from that?"

Shockwave paused for a moment before pressing a button, the energon bonds releasing Rafael and allowing him to sit up. His back made an unnatural popping sound as he bent over to look at his wrists.

A peep of surprise escaped his lips as Shockwave's digit tips came into view, grabbing on to his hand and pushing back his sleeve to look for any signs of damage. Raf expected his wrist to snap in half, but the scientist was gentle with his appendage, taking great care to not bend it at unnatural angles or twist it too far.

"It has not broken your skin." He notes. "There is also no sign of irritation."

"That m-might have been because my c-clothes shielded my skin." Rafael lied, hoping the Cybertronian didn't catch it.

Shockwave's hesitation made his already fast heart accelerate, and he prayed that the scientist attributed that to his fear, and not to the fact he was lying.

"You do however, have a history of energon poisoning."

"D-dark energon poisoning." Rafael corrects, flinching as Shockwave still held his wrist and had turned it a different way, making the human think for a split moment he was about to be punished for his lie or his correction. But the scientist was simply observing, being careful to not harm him.

"How very interesting." Shockwave didn't sound interested. "The human species is resilient, is it not?"

Rafael didn't know whether to be absolutely afraid of Shockwave or puzzled that they were having a conversation. "I-I guess. I mean, we haven't died out yet after so many centuries." He shut his mouth. Don't talk too much Rafman. This is Shockwave here.

"Indeed." Shockwave released his hand, one eye resting on the boy for a moment longer before he stepped back and turned back to his computers. Rafael tried to read the Cybertronian, but his tired eyes were making things blurry, even with his glasses.

Shockwave spoke again, his monotonous voice unchanging. "I will allow you to rest without the energon bonds. But let me be clear: escaping is most illogical, and will only cause you more pain. Understood?"

Rafael nodded. "Y-yeah." He curled up and put his back to Shockwave, taking off his glasses and strategically placing them just above his head, where he could see the reflection of the computer screens without looking too conspicuous. Also, the glasses were close enough to his face that he could read.

But his eyes began to grow heavy, and sleep harder to fight off. He wanted to wait until Shockwave left so he could try and communicate to Ratchet or someone else at the Autobot base . . . but he supposed he could close his eyes for a second . . .

>>•<<

June was curled on the couch, her back to the base as everyone powered down for the night. Individual quarters were being constructed little by little, but it wasn't like they could use them- only Ratchet, Shovel, and Smokescreen were in good enough shape to travel to the rooms.

Bulkhead had regained consciousness, which gave everyone extreme relief. It hurt to move, but he could talk, and when he had heard what had happened to his human charge his yelling shook June to the core, Ratchet yelling back at the Wrecker that they had patients, and if he would pipe down!

But his next question had chilled June.

"Where's Jackie?"

Of all the mechs, Ratchet had not looked for Wheeljack. The realization of his mistake was more than evident on his face, and if there was a gun he more than likely have put it to his head and shot himself. Bulkhead had held on to the hope that perhaps his Wrecker friend had made it, but the odds . . . they were less than good.

It killed June on the inside, to think of an Autobot that had died, especially when she had known them, sort of. Cliffjumper was different, she had only heard of him. She had seen Wheeljack, and heard him speak. He was more real to her than just a story. But now that's all he was.

She saw as Ratchet resumed working he was beating himself up for it. He hadn't been terribly fond of the Wrecker at first, but he had come to tolerate his antics.

Thoughts of the fallen Wrecker and the kids invaded her thoughts, the shadow of it her constant companion. And they still haunted her as she lied there on the couch, the base growing darker every minute. It was late, impossibly late.

"Nurse Darby?"

Turning over so she was facing the speaker, she looks at the aquamarine blue optics that glowed faintly in the darkness.

"Would you like for me to take you home?" Ratchet sounded weary and tired, and for once June saw him as more than a grumpy, snappish medic. He was broken, the stress tearing him apart from the inside out. There was nothing he hated more than watching a comrade die and unable to do anything about it.

Or believe it was his fault.

She shakes her head. "I'll just stay here." She whispers. In truth she felt grimey and awful, but all she wanted to do was stay here and wait for her kids to return.

Kids. Her heart quivered at the hurtful thought. Jack wasn't her only family now; she had two more children she would gladly call her own.

Ratchet's optics dimmed slightly, and as a soft sigh escaped him he held up a hand. "You need to at least refuel and perhaps change clothing . . . I understand that is necessary for cleanliness?"

"Yeah." She hated how defeated she sounded. Ratchet already had enough problems, he shouldn't be worrying about her. A small, insignificant human that had stuck her nose into his war. "But I can live for another day without . . . without doing anything."

Those choice of words set off Ratchet's alarms immediately. He understood that human emotions were much more intense than most of the creatures of the universe, and the deadly part about that was they didn't know how intense their emotions were.

June probably didn't know it, but she was becoming depressed.

"You're probably tired anyways." She continues softly. "You should rest."

"I can spare a few minutes to get you home." He flexes his digits, prompting her to climb on. "And bring you back, if you wish."

To his slight relief, she slid off of the couch and trudge over to his hand, sliding on and not saying a word as he set her down and transformed before opening his driver's door. Normally he wouldn't have felt comfortable with someone in the driver's seat, but he would make an exception this time. June was old enough to look like she was driving an ambulance without raising suspicion.

He waits for her to buckle up before he drives quietly out of the base, acutely aware of her head resting against his window, his mirrors allowing him to see her bloodshot eyes looking at the outside world with a dead look.

A few minutes passed in silence before she whispered. "It's not your fault, what happened to Wheeljack."

It startled him that of all the things she was concerned about, his well-being was at the top of the list. He had expected something about the children, but instead she was trying to make him feel better about the mistake he had made.

"He's a Wrecker." She continues on, her voice growing a little stronger each time. "And I heard that they . . . are pretty tough." She coughed weakly, her hand over her mouth. He felt disgusted for a quick moment before his concerns turned to her health. She had inhaled a lot of smoke . . .

"I know." He returns quietly, if only to not so abruptly change the subject. "How are your lungs?"

Her confused look made him sigh. "Are they irritated at all? Do you need to see a human doctor?"

"No, no I'm fine." She replies quickly, clearing her throat. "I was more concerned about you."

Ratchet wasn't one to talk about his feelings to anyone, except perhaps Optimus. "Wheeljack will be fine. Knowing him he's just a few grenades away from getting back to base." It made his spark ache, however, to know he had failed. That's all he ever was, it seemed to be nowadays. He failed in repairing Bumblebee's voicebox, he failed to stay rational during the Autobot's hardest times, he failed the children, especially Rafael . . .

Sometimes he wondered why Optimus kept insisting he was the best medic for the job.

June shivered in her chair, pulling her jacket closer to herself. "But are you? Fine, I mean?"

The question made him snappy. "I forgot a comrade in the middle of a collapsing mine, and I couldn't keep an optic on the children long enough or Groundbridge them back to safety fast enough! Do I sound fine to you?"

He felt the human flinch in his seat. "No." She whispers, looking out the window with more intensity.

Letting out a strong ex-vent, the medic cooled himself down. "I'm sorry, Nurse Darby."

"You're under a lot of stress." She reasons. "It's been . . . hard."

He remained quiet after that. In fact, for the rest of the drive neither of them spoke, Ratchet lost in his own thoughts as June looked out the window and up at the stars, wishing there was something to tell her Jack was safe.

There is, but it's not up there. She looked at her phone. The last thing she wanted to do was text Megatron and 1. have Ratchet find out what she was up to and 2. have the warlord track them both down to her house.

Well, house was an overstatement. Trailers were the only things available for the residents of Jasper at the moment, and that was what she got. Agent Fowler arranged it so that she was neighbors with Rafael's family and Miko's host family. It was a nice place, with a sewage system installed, along with running water and electricity, so she was able to make do with it. She had replenished her clothes and rations of food, which was all she needed.

Ratchet pulled up to the side of her trailer, unbuckling her and opening his door for the human, who he noticed had begun to tremble. He sighs softly, speaking low enough for her to hear.

"I'll be here, waiting." He tells her. "You do want to go back to base, correct?"

She looks at the ground. "If I'm just going to be in the way, don't bother. I can . . . I can stay here."

He knew she didn't want to, that the last thing she wanted to do was see Rafael and Miko's families. At the same time he knew that caring for her at the base would be distracting, but his spark told him that she was as injured as the other Autobots, just not in a physical sense.

"It won't kill me to wait thirty earth minutes for you to come back." He settles on his tires, closing his door. "Just do what you need to do, grab anything you need to grab. I'll be here." He sounded silly repeating himself, but June relaxed at his words. With a small nod, she headed over to her small dwelling area and went inside.

Tiredly rubbing her eyes once she had closed the door, she leaned against it and ran her fingers through her hair. Her eyes were too dry to let her shed anymore tears, but her sore throat could still allow her to choke out a distressed sound. Urging herself to move, she stumbles toward her room.

Her hands shook as she fiddled with the doorknob, and finally getting it to open she was very tempted to collapse on the bed. But Ratchet was waiting for her; she couldn't just ditch him outside.

Grabbing a bag, she tosses a set of clothes, a pillow, and blanket in it before slipping into the bathroom to take a quick shower, stepping out in five minutes (the fastest shower she had taken yet) flat and throwing on pajamas, rushing to brush her teeth and get back to Ratchet. Not even bothering to dry her hair properly, she steps out shivering into the cold Nevada air.

The Autobot hadn't expected her to come out so early, and when he spotted her still-trembling hands worry made him roll up a few inches.

"Nurse Darby," he says quietly. "I can wait longer if you have other things to do."

The tenderness from the usually rough medic was unexpected, but that didn't sway June's stubbornness.

"I don't. Have other thing to do, I mean . . . except wait for updates on the kids' conditions." She didn't want to add "If we get an update on their conditions."

Ratchet opened his driver's door for her, knowing he wouldn't be able to insist she look out for her own well-being. All that she could think of, he knew, was the kids. And  possibly Wheeljack.

Who you forgot, glitch-head.

"You have a job." He couldn't help but cringe as he pointed that out. Usually he didn't care what she had to think or feel about what he said, but he knew her current condition was delicate, especially for a human. "That could keep you busy."

Her words were bitter. "I doubt it would. And you know just as well as I that emotions would only get in the way." At her words she could have sworn she felt him stiffen under her.

"I do." He made it clear he wasn't in the talking mood anymore- though it was probable that he had never been in the talking mood in the first place.

Shifting in his seat, June looked out the window again, watching the desert pass by her and the stars shining out in the sky. Absentmindedly she searched for the Big Dipper, and then the Great Bear. Her heart ached when she thought of how Jack liked to point those things out to her, and quietly she made a vow. She would find Jack, she would rescue him and the kids. There were no ifs anymore.

You want a war, Megatron? You got one.

>>•<<

Scene: Ratchet disbelieving June when she says she's fine, and realizing she may be becoming depressed.