Fay was still in bed. It had been three days now, and she hadn’t left her room since she’d seen Optimus perish. Her chest still hurt. Like someone had decided to try and pole vault, using her spark as the base for their jump. And the pole had stayed wedged there, painful and aching. A hollow spot felt like it was consuming her. And it was . . .  terrible. Breathing hurt on it’s own. Her antidepressant dose had been doubled, but they had yet to see any real results. They didn’t know what else to do for her, supposedly.

        The daily visits from Malakai weren’t helping. When he came to deliver her medicine, he practically had to drag her out of the bed and sit her up, forcing the medicine to go down compliantly. She didn’t pay him much heed. She was consumed in her grief, the unexpected loss that had someone left her with more pain than she thought possible. Pain that she didn’t think she’d experience again. A pain that felt all too familiar.

        ‘Did he join you in heaven, Dad . . . ? You didn’t hurt him, did you . . . ? I miss him . . . I miss you . . . Tell me it’s just a dream . . . Please. Tell me it’s all just a bad dream.’ She took a long, shuddering breath, the ache echoing through her body as she attempted to breathe. It was better than the alternative. Which she had done, actually.

        The morning after, she’d held her breath, not wanting to live, much less be conscious. She couldn’t stand the pain and aching that was so prevalent inside her every fiber and bone. It hurt. It was a terrible thing and she couldn’t make it go away no matter how hard she tried. She held her breath until she felt like her lungs would burst from the pain.

        She’d sucked in a breath, hating her weakness, despising herself for the failure to do something worth doing. Or, it felt like something worth doing at the moment. Fay just missed him. She hated being alone. She wanted nothing more than to see the people who actually cared about her, who had supported her and loved her for so much of her life. Was that really so much to ask of the world?

        So she tried again. Fay held her breath, aching as the carbon dioxide built up in her lungs and her body desperately wanted to expel it. She knew from her biology class that it was the buildup of carbon dioxide that caused the lungs pain, and eventually caused someone to pass out. She knew it wouldn’t kill her. That much was certain. But at least she could pass out and maybe she could forget about the world for a little while.

        Holding her breath had become routine lately. Every day now Fay would hold her breath until she passed out, even though it took at least two tries, sometimes three, to get it right. It was painful, and she knew it couldn’t possibly be good for her, but it was hard to care when the world had been cruel enough to take so much from her. It was a horrid sort of thing. She missed the people she’d loved most.

        Charlie . . .

        Charlie was real. Charlie was a wonderful person. Charlie was amazing. And Charlie was alive. But Charlie couldn’t possibly replace all the people Fay had lost. Her spark sunk thinking about Charlie. She missed the sweet girl. In the three days she’d been laying here, she hadn’t heard a thing from her blonde best friend. But of course. Fay hadn’t exactly participated in visitor hours.

        A knock came to Fay’s door. She tensed and waited a few moments. The person outside was quiet, but hadn’t made a move to open the door. Fay took a slow breath, thinking about the few possibilities of who could be here. Her medicine wasn’t due just yet. Visitors were probably milling in for the designated visiting hours. No. Charlie wouldn’t have.

        “Go away,” Fay mumbled, pulling the pillow over her face. She was sick of everything that was going on. She didn’t want to see anyone, even Charlie right now. She wanted to be alone and wallow in her personal, emotional filth. She wanted to have something else to look forward to. She wanted to see Optimus, alive and well.

        But that just wasn’t possible now, was it?

        No more noise came from behind the door. Whoever it had been was gone. She was alone again. Fay sighed, relaxing against the mattress, defeated. “I miss ya, Creep . . .” Fay groaned, lying where she was, hating the world for all it’s cruelties and shameless pains. What had she done to deserve all this?

        For the sake of not knowing what else to do, Fay sang in attempt to ease the pain in her spark.

        “I hate living without you,Dead wrong to ever doubt you, But my demons lay in waiting, Tempting me away, Oh how I adore you, Oh how I thirst for you, Oh how I need you, Comatose, I'll never wake up without an overdose of you I don't wanna live, I don't wanna breathe, 'les I feel you next to me, you take the pain I feel, waking up to you never felt so real, I don't wanna sleep, I don't wanna dream, 'cause my dreams don't comfort me, The way you make me feel, Waking up to you never felt so real . . .”

        That was just it. She couldn’t wake up to him. She wouldn’t. Because he was gone. The world felt colder again. And she hadn’t realized until now how warm he’d managed to make it. With a sigh, Fay closed her eyes and attempted to sleep, even though she knew the odds were slim to none that she would be resting again anytime soon.

        ~~~

        “What the hell do you mean, ‘Farrah is in a coma’, you stupid loser? What the hell are you doing just talking about her being in less than stellar health but not doing a damn thing about it! Get back to work and fix her before I break your damn legs!” Charlie was fuming, confused. She was in pain, emotionally, physically, but she couldn’t do much about it. Fay needed her and she was stuck with some second-rate doctor who didn’t know what to do for Fay at a time like this? What was wrong with him?

        “I cannot do anything more for her. She is stable, but this appears to be more of a mental block than a physical one that is keeping her from leaving the state she’s currently in. She needs to be taken care of, but I’m not sure how to go about this. We can’t exactly just open up her processor and spark and get through to her that way.” His voice was calm, plain, just stating facts and going about his business the way a doctor should.

        That attitude infuriated Charlie. How could he not understand how important it was that he fix Fay? Fay was . . . practically her sister. They’d known each other for so long, and yet, no one seemed to care. Charlie huffed, frowning, staring down at the ground as she crossed her arms. “Yeah. Do nothing. That’s just great. Because hey, why should we do anything when she’s just this sweet, innocent thing who needs someone to actually give a two shits about her instead of walking away from her, or not caring, or dumping all kinds of crap on her without thinking about the consequences? No, she doesn’t need every ounce of care you can give her, of course not!” Charlie groaned, turning away from the medic and the Prime. She couldn’t look at them right now. She wanted Fay here. Safe.

        “Charlotte . . .” Optimus spoke gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She whipped her head around, eyes blazing. Optimus could see in that moment why Fay and Charlie were such good friends, why they got along so well. They had the same kind of fire in their eyes. The fire of a survivor. It had been programmed in Fay, and learned by Charlie, thanks to her abusive father.

        “What? What are you going to say, other than some crap about how I have to be calm and be strong for Fay? What? Because in case you haven’t noticed, she’s kind of comatose, here! Like she’ll notice? Like she’ll care? You fucked up, you idiot! And now . . . Now . . . She might never wake up . . . Because we can’t help her heal on the inside if we can’t reach her from the outside . . .” Charlie’s eyes fell to the ground. Fay was gone. Unreachable. At least, that was what she thought until a few days later.

        Fay still wasn’t responsive. She was as unconscious as she’d ever been, but now, well, one of the ‘Bots had revealed a bit of a bombshell.

        Fay was reachable through another outlet.

        It was possible to speak to her through her mind.

        It was crazy, impossible, insane. But that shred of hope gave Charlie something she hadn’t had in days: a bit of happiness. Fay was her best friend and she’d be damned if she didn’t give it her all when it came to getting a hold of that girl. Fay had to be in there. She just had to be. It wasn’t possible for her to be gone-gone. She was . . . Was she going to be okay?

        Ratchet attempted to explain. And while the Autobots had begun using their true forms around Charlie more and more lately, especially when she was visiting Fay in the hiding spot she’d chosen, it still unnerved her a bit. Seeing these large, robotic beings, and seeing them act like humans in so many ways was unusual. Strange. A bit creepy, really. But she could live with it. Because that’s what Fay was, too. In a way.

        “You see, it appears that when she cut herself using a shard of the AllSpark, it wound up activating things inside her body, setting her first transformation into motion. It also activated areas of her processor. Similar to humans, Cybertronians do not use the full capacity of their processors at all times. She seems to have unlocked an area that makes her vulnerable to the presence of others, allowing them to project their images, even the images of others, into her mind. However, it only works when she’s already got images running through her mind. In other words, this wouldn’t work when she’s actively using her mind, but when she’s unconscious, daydreaming intensely, or in a deep state of hypnosis.”

        “So . . . We can . . . Visit her . . . How . . . ?” Charlie was stunned, perplexed, amazed. This was wonderful. She could still see Fay. And they would help her heal herself from the inside out. She would be okay. Everything would be okay. Without much thought, Charlie walked over to where Fay lie in her own little bubble of silence, practically unmoved since they’d found her that night. Charlie kneeled down and took Fay’s hand in her own, running her thumb over the back of Fay’s hand gently. Fay would be all right.

        That was a wonderful thought. Amazing and beautiful.

        “How does it work . . . ?” She asked, not having paid attention when Ratchet had attempted to explain the first time. She was wrapped up in her thoughts of this. This odd sort of miracle.

        “Well, if you’d paid attention to what I’d just attempted to explain, you would know by now, wouldn’t you? Though I think it would be better explained by the mech who discovered this in the first place, since, from my understanding of it, anyway, he was already quite accustomed to the processes.” Ratchet directed his attention away, looking at the mech he was referring to. The one who had known of this trick before even the recent event that had caused the ease of slipping into Fay’s mind.

        “It takes concentration . . . And a connection to the . . . Subject . . .” He explained cautiously, knowing full well he would be interrogated by Optimus at a later time. “It doesn’t work unless you’re emotionally tied to the thought of the visit.”

        “I would advise caution,” Ratchet added. “While Farrah is in a coma, she isn’t in an easy place. She has likely concocted a dream world in which she’s living. It’s the way she’s coping with her current situation. It’s the way she’s dealing with everything that’s fallen upon her at once. It could be a place she’s seen on television, in the pages of a magazine, any reference, really, and then her mind will have filled in the gaps. There’s no telling what she’s created inside her mind, only that it’s a very delicate image that she has. And it should be treated as such. She cannot be disturbed from it. If she reacts adversely to hearing the her world is out of order, then things could start to fall apart. While this may cause her to wake, it may also cause her mind to delve deeper into the depths it’s created. And if that occurs, she may never come back from it. We need to treat this as carefully as possible. I care not what your relationship, past present or future with the patient is, you have to be careful. Am I understood?”

        Charlie frowned, turning back to Fay. She didn’t want to dignify his ‘commands’ with an answer. She would do what she wanted. Fay needed her, didn’t she? She was certain of that much and she wasn’t about to give up on someone like her.

        “Don’t you give up on me, Fay,” she murmured. “Don’t you dare give up on me. I’m going to make sure you’re okay and you know it. I swear if you try to give up, I’m going to kick your ass. Got it? Don’t you make me do it. Because you know I will. Now get your shit together and let us help or I’m going to hurt you. Got it? Do you understand me, Farrah Naomi Meadows? I. Will. Kick. Your. Ass.”

        ~~~

        That was when the visits had begun. Charlie and Optimus had gone together for quite some time, occasionally separate. Charlie could still recall the first time she’d entered Fay’s unconscious world, the one she’d supposedly constructed to protect herself. Considering how much Fay hated doctors, saying Charlie was surprised was definitely an understatement. The place was clean and white, tiled, plain, though it had a touch of modern style edged it, giving it that newer look. Charlie had done her best to shrug it off and had taken it as a blessing that at least Fay hadn’t somehow wound up in some abandoned, haunted hospital with zombie nurses or something.

        Of course, that would’ve been plenty interesting, but it would’ve been terrible for Fay’s mental health.  It had been nearly a month now since Fay had slipped into the coma. Just a little less than that since they’d begun visiting her inside her self-constructed world that existed in her mind.

        And that was when the walls had been thrown up. Three days ago, the walls had grown around Fay’s mind, thick and fierce.

        They weren’t able to visit anymore. The mental walls prevented anyone from entering to see her. Charlie didn’t know what had happened. And that bit of information was driving her insane. She couldn’t understand it. She couldn’t fathom what the issue was. It was asinine and confusing. She’d arrived today only to hear the same old news: no one was getting through to her. It was like some invisible force field kept them all out. And Charlie was about to lose it. Fay was in there. Why couldn’t she let them in?

        No matter how much Optimus or Charlie tried, she was impenetrable as a brick wall. Charlie couldn’t stand it. She was having problems understanding how any of this had happened in the first place.

        “Are you sure you didn’t do anything stupid, Optimus? You’re the one she saw last!”

        The Prime shook his helm, towering about Charlotte in his true form. “I didn’t do anything to aggravate her as far as my knowledge extends. She seemed fine when I left her to her room. I left shortly after. I certainly didn’t do anything to hurt her. If anything, I merely attempted to calm her. I suppose it may have been conceived wrong, but she didn’t give any show of it being against her will.” If anything, she seemed to appreciate it. After all, she’d kissed his cheek before vanishing into her room.

        She didn’t regret it, did she? Was that why she was blocking everyone out at the moment? A slight frown crossed his faceplates as he processed the information. He could understand her being embarrassed and possibly blocking him out for a while, but blocking out Charlie as well? And for three days? It just didn’t connect.

        “Wait . . .” Charlie froze where she sat, tensing slightly as she waited for a further cue. She began to slow her breathing and concentrate on Fay.

        The walls were beginning to crumble. Just a little, but it was enough for her to slip into Fay’s mind, into her created world. It took a few moments, but Charlie was in. And though she knew by now that this place always looked to be the exact same to Fay, the stark white of the walls and floors was diluted down to cloudy gray. Charlie frowned, walking down the halls slowly, the emptiness of them unnerving, but she quickly found Fay’s room. It was always distinguishable from the others.

        Charlie had asked Fay about it before. And Fay had always said that her door was a plain, heavy, oak door of a light golden brown color. But when Charlie, or Optimus, for that matter, saw it, they saw swirls of blue and red imbued in the wood. In some spots, the melded to give a small shred of purple, but it was never much. The door was always cold, but it looked like it had burn marks on it. It was always confusing. Charlie didn’t know what to do about. Every door in this place was a different color. Or a mix of colors. But to Fay, they were all identical.

        With a deep breath, Charlie knocked on the door. It was a few seconds before Charlie heard Fay mumble “Go away,” from behind the door.

        And just like that, Charlie was thrown out again. And she blinked a few times only to find herself back in the forest. She groaned, shaking her head. She’d been so close . . .

        Before Optimus could ask, Charlie simply said, “She kicked me back out.”

        “Why would she do such a thing . . . ?” The Prime asked, mostly just thinking aloud, though he was honestly perplexed as to why Fay was so distraught.

        “I don’t know, dammit,” Charlie replied, raking a hand through her hair, mind racing with possibilities. Or trying to, anyway, But she couldn’t think of anything. It was all just . . . Ridiculous. Silly. Preposterous and far-fetched. Charlie sighed, closing her eyes. “Fay . . . Just let me  in . . .”

        ~~~

        To Fay, the world was cruel and cold, but she couldn’t exactly argue with it. Malakai was here, dispensing her medicine and making sure she took it. He’d also gotten into bringing her a bit of food to go with it. He’d noticed she’d been skipping meals, and usually brought her something, though he didn’t say much nowadays.

        Fay was honestly fairly grateful for that much. Conversation wasn’t exactly in her repertoire at the moment. In truth, she hadn’t spoken for a quite some time now. She hadn’t said more than ten words since three days ago, when she’d watched Optimus perish. When she’d watched him fall down and crash like a skyscraper that had just been demolished.

        She physically winced at the thought of it, reliving that moment when he’d become lost to her. And she wouldn’t get him back. That was a terrible thing. A terrible, spark-wrenching thing. “What did I do to deserve this . . . ?” Fay murmured. She ached with loss, and didn’t even care that Malakai was in the room with her.

        He didn’t answer her. Apparently he didn’t have one, either. He gathered up his supplies, leaving a granola bar, an apple and a bottle of water on her nightstand.

        “I’m sorry for your loss.”

        It was all he said before walking out of the room. However, his tone was plain, matter of fact, and lacking sympathy. And something about it told Fay that he wasn’t sorry for her loss at all. Perhaps he was happy about it but couldn’t say so. Whatever the case, Fay couldn’t stand the way he talked about it like it was nothing. Optimus . . .

        Optimus would be different. Would’ve been different. Her spark seized at the thought as the door clicked shut behind him. “How could you leave me again . . . ?” Her tone was a bit more bitter as she curled up on the bed, resting her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs. She was alone . . .

        Guaranteed, it was nothing new, but that didn’t ease the ache that accompanied it. For a moment, she regretted blocking everyone out and rejecting their presence as even a remote possibility. But she couldn’t help missing the presence of having someone around. ‘It’s your own fault, Fay . . . Just make yourself more miserable, why don’t you? Smart idea. Good choice. Idiot.’