"I'm bullet-proof, nothing to lose,
Fire away, fire away"

»«

"Lord Megatron!" Knock Out called, the medic at the computers with Soundwave, where the communications officer had been monitoring all frequencies; both human and Autobot. "It appears Soundwave has picked up on a human pet."

The warlord stalked over to the monitor, not incredibly happy. They had just lost Darkmount to Optimus Prime and his accursed Autobots. It was two steps forward, one step back for the Decepticons. His optics widened as he took a look at the profile picture, standing even more upright than before.

"Soundwave, I want you to track her down and find her immediately." He snapped, gazing at the green eyes which stared back. "When you do, I want her back here alive!"

Soundwave nodded and departed from his master, sending Laserbeak ahead to scout out the coordinates and prepare him for any Autobots he may encounter. Though the communications officer was not concerned, he just wanted to be prepared for any and all encounters.

Megatron grinned at the screen, excitement coursing through his energon veins. Dana was alive, she had survived the ordeal. He had broken her, yet she persisted and lived through it all. During his free time his processor had been preoccupied with wondering if she had survived. Human medicine was primitive at best, so it was a bit of a miracle that she had survived.

He couldn't wait to play with her again.

»«

"Hey mom, it's me. Dana. I'm sorry I haven't been able to contact you, but I'm doing alright now. I'm not sure what June has told you, but . . . I'm alive. My injuries are pretty bad, but I'll be okay. I just . . . Might have to figure out a new life plan. Maybe. I don't know where you are, but an FBI agent visited and told me that all of Jasper was evacuated to a safe place. I got all your messages, so I know you're all okay. I'll call you back when I get more information. Love you, bye."

Mrs. Frederickson took the phone away from her ear, eyes watering. Her baby was okay. The mention of "pretty bad" injuries was concerning, but at the moment all the mother cared about was that her daughter was alive and well. June Darby had assured her that Dana was fine, however it brought her immense relief to hear her for herself.

She immediately dialed her daughter's phone number, waiting for her to pick up. One ring, two. Five. And then voicemail.

Her heart dropped. Why wasn't she picking up? She had gotten her message almost an hour ago, yet she didn't think her daughter was sleeping. Perhaps she was? Whatever the case, she decided to leave a message.

"Thank god you're safe." She said as soon as the beep indicated she could speak. "I'm just so glad . . . Call me back when you get the chance. Please. I love you too."

The mother wiped her tears away as she hung up, almost begging for Dana to just pick up again.

But she never did.

»«

Dana hung up the phone and sighed, having kept the voicemail as brief as she could. No Decepticons were being reported outside, so she assumed it had gone through safely.

Just as she hung up June came back in, the nurse frowning a bit.

"What were you doing?"

"Just listening to Ratchet's voicemail again." Dana lied, not wanting to get into trouble. "I miss him . . ."

June paused, glancing at her vitals. For the moment the girl seemed to have calmed down, her heart rate at a good 72 bpm, her breaths even and slow. It couldn't hurt, she supposed . . . Even though she was worried that it would be detrimental to Dana's health if she passed out again.

Dana gave her a pleading look, her phone clutched in her hand. At the moment, she could probably use some emotional support; not to mention she and Ratchet were close. It would do them both some good.

"Alright. Let me help." June carefully supported her and helped her into the wheelchair, the girl mindful of her casts.

June wheeled her out to her friend, who had returned to vehicular mode so as to not draw a bunch of attention to himself. He transformed in front of her, pained look on his face.

"Dana . . ."

"I listened to your messages." She answered, looking up at him. "All of them, even before I could remember . . ." There was a pause as she chose her next words carefully. "I'm sorry too. For disobeying your orders. I should have listened, because now . . . Well, look at me Ratch. A nurse can't be in a wheelchair."

"You will get better." He promised firmly. "Your doctor's will make sure of it."

"Only after years of physical therapy. A lifetime." She sighed, looking down at her arms. "My entire life plan just went down the drain."

Ratchet opened his mouth to say something when a familiar buzzing reached his audio receptors, the medic turning and taking a small, but careful step back.

"Laserbeak!" He looked around frantically, his servos turning into his surgical weapons. "Soundwave can't be too far behind-"

The communications officer appeared from the clouds, diving down towards Ratchet, June, and Dana, the silent communications officer transforming and landing heavily, humans scrambling to aim their weapons at him while he patiently waited for Laserbeak to return to his chestplates.

"Get inside." Ratchet ordered to the humans before he charged towards Soundwave with a battle cry, fully intending to protect his charge at any cost. That had to be the reason Soundwave was here.

June gripped Dana's handles, but for some reason the chair wouldn't move. The nurse desperately tried dragging, not realizing that the wheel brakes had simply been deployed. Dana couldn't do much to help, but she did try jiggling her wheels.

Ratchet thrusted his knife towards Soundwave, but in two swift moves the Decepticon blocked him and then viciously knocked him to the side, his tentacles deploying and taking out several shooting humans with a single sweep of each.

"Ratchet!" Dana cried as her guardian went down, her gaze snapping towards Soundwave as she realized the communications officer was looking at her, the realization sinking in rather quickly.

I did this. He's come for me.

"June, get inside!" She yelled, twisting in her chair. "Just do it!"

"I won't leave you." June snapped back, pausing as Soundwave suddenly towered over them. The Decepticon paused briefly before he knelt down and wrapped his digits around both Dana and her chair, and with a gentle (for him) push he had knocked June backwards and onto her butt, leaving her to scramble back onto her feet as he carefully put the human girl inside of his chest cavity before transforming and flying away.

"Dana!" Ratchet struggled to his feet again, watching helplessly as Soundwave flew away, along with his charge.

The medic stood there in utter shock, the moment having taken bless than thirty seconds, but in that time Dana had been taken from him yet again, most certainly back to Megatron.

If he lays another servo on her . . . Ratchet felt his systems get hot with rage, his digits curling into a fist. I will not hesitate to surgically remove his helm! She was healing, Megatron. Getting better.

You better not ruin it.

»«

"Excellent, Soundwave." Megatron extended his servo for the girl, which the communications officer delivered. She looked a little worse for wear, and three out of four appendages were surrounded by some sort of supporting structure, as was her back, but that seemed to be the extent of the damages. Her skin was discolored in some places, likely due to internal bleeding.

Soundwave had taken her out of some sort of chair with wheels, which he kept in hand just in case. It seemed important to her, and he suspected she couldn't walk due to the casing on her leg. Surprisingly enough, though, she manually moved her legs into a more comfortable position with her arms, instead of just . . . Moving them. He tilted his head slightly as he noticed this, wondering what's wrong.

"We meet again, human." He rumbled, waiting for the fire that she so readily snarked back to him. Instead, her green eyes shone back at him like emeralds, and her lips pulled back as she snarled his name.

"Megatron." The word was full of so much hatred, something he had never heard from her before. He jerked back a little, not having expected the mini verbal assault. "Did you bring me here so you could finish the job yourself? I'm actually surprised, considering our last encounter you chose to just hide behind me and use me as a bargaining tool. Before you tried to kill me, of course."

The warlord looked at her for a long time, barely able to comprehend the human in his palm. This wasn't the same human he had taunted almost a month ago before . . .

She had changed.

"I actually brought you here out of curiosity." He answered, not wanting to admit that he actually had her taken not only to torture her guardian, but to continue on their fun. "Seeing as you have clearly survived our last encounter."

"Barely." She snapped. "I was in a coma for four days. And then I woke up with no memory of anything, greeted by broken bones and a snapped spinal cord. Or spinal cable, as you call it. Now I can't walk, I can barely use my arms, and my entire future is gone. All thanks to you."

Megatron bared his denta. "If you hadn't taunted me-"

"Oh, so it's my fault you lost control?!" She snarled, her hands gripping the minute ridges of his palm, her useless legs immobile from the hips down, dragging a little as she brought herself higher up, hospital gown crumbling. "Because you couldn't take a few grains of truth?"

"My lord." Shockwave stepped forward before the heated argument could continue. "The Predacon specimen has begun producing results."

Megatron growled softly, but he knew this needed his attention. His gaze returned to his third in command. "Soundwave, take her to my quarters." He glared down at her. "We will continue this conversation later."

Dumping the girl back into Soundwave's servo he turned to Shockwave, however his processor still remained on her. Her change of demeanor greatly concerned him, and he struggle to keep his anger under control. She was still unafraid, but now she wasn't being foolish. Dana was angry, and he grudgingly admitted that she was rightfully so.

But still, something about her anger unnerved him. She was no longer just taunting him, or defying him out of her own impish fun. This was raw distaste for his very being, anger at her lot in life and at his actions. She had survived, but at a cost.

He feared he had taken away the thing that had initially drew him to her, in a morbidly curious sense.

Her fire.