Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.

Author Note: I bring to you the next chapter in Quick, But Not Quite Painless.

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They had taken her back to the hanger a few hours after Ratchet had begun work, when he finally said that she was safe to move. However none of them expected her reaction when she came back online. Her cannons blasted quite a few holes and damaged quite a few mechs in the process. Namely Ratchet and Optimus Prime, who happened to be the closest to her, and so the ones who tried to get her back under control. Which only made it worst for them all.

As far as she was concerned she was still being held captive by the Decepticons, even if her processors told her that wasn't the case she didn't believe it. Ratchet firmly believed that the femme had lost all contact with the real world, that she had spilt the world into two very different places. Reality, which she refused to believe, and a nightmare. Both Ironhide and Major Lennox believed that the correct term for her behavior was Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Or to be very blunt, shell shocked. That she was reliving her time on Cybertron.

Enigma was lost, she could feel the pull in her spark but she couldn't find the bot that was causing it, or maybe she had but didn't know it. Whatever the case was, Cybertron wasn't going to be her home much longer, she had to get away from all the killing, from all the destruction caused by the war. She planned her escape every night, and the time for her launch was ever drawing closer. She was just waiting for the right moment, the one time when no one could stop her from getting away.

She looked around the dimly lit hanger, her optics taking in everything, the angle at which the other bots were sitting, how much time it would take them to react. And more importantly, how quickly she would be able to get away from them before they drug her back. It wasn't her first attempt, hopefully it would be her last. She stood up, that simple motion causing the others to get to their feet as well, she stared at them for a moment before taking off at a dead run towards the hanger doors.

"Ironhide, get them closed!" yelled Optimus as he tried to grab Enigma as she rushed past him. Ratchet managed to barely grab a hold of her scruff bar, the metal slipping from his fingers. She rammed straight into Ironhide, plowing the large black mech to the ground. She might have been small but she had power behind her. Ironhide, however, was a fighter and grabbed her leg as she made to get away from him. She toppled to the ground, twisted around, her cannons coming to full power.

Ironhide didn't flinch, he had been on the other end of cannons before.

Bumblebee shifted from his alt-form of a yellow Chevy camaro, he was returning to the hanger for the next few weeks. In the hopes that he would be able to help with his spark mate, and it seemed to him that his timing was perfect. "Enigma."

She twisted around to face him, wrenching her leg away from Ironhide as she did so. She eyed him carefully before pulling herself up to stare him straight in the baby blue optics.

"Please. Stop, I beg of you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you," Bumblebee reached out towards her, praying to Primus that she would be alright, that she would stop making attempts to runaway. She only stared at him, judging her odds at getting away from him.

"'Cause I remember…you promised."

"I promised…"

Something seemed to change in the air, everything seemed to go have gone still, like the whole world was holding it's breath. Enigma remembered her promise as well, and knew that only one other mech knew that promise. She looked at the hand reaching towards her, her fear replaced by longing. She knew him, she loved him, she missed him more than she could possibly say.

Regret filled her mind as his hand connected with her shoulder; she could still feel the bitter cold of space, hear the screams. But what caused her more pain was knowing that while she was reliving those vorns she was hurting the others. That she was acting like…like a Decepticon. At least that it what she felt like now.

Ironhide had retreated back into the hanger, the only thing to have taken damage was his ego. Bumblebee had watched him leave, grateful for the privacy that they were granting them. He wanted to take her into his arms, to shelter her from the rest of the world. To be one with her, however Ratchet's words echoed through his head. He wanted Starscream's head on a platter, to use a human expression.

"Bumblebee, I am sorry," Enigma stated as she took a step towards him, her head bowed. Bumblebee lifted her head gently, leaning in to place his forehead against hers. He couldn't begin to understand what she felt, but he knew that he forgave her, he always would, and that he wanted her to be happy again. For her to be a part of them again.

Optimus walked over to them slowly, both Ironhide and Ratchet watching from within the hanger. "Enigma, I believe it would be wise for you to share what has happened to you."

"No, Optimus, I don't believe that would be a good decision," as always, Ratchet was being the sensitive one. He knew the hardships for battle as well as the next Autobot, how much the weight of loss felt upon the shoulders of the survivors. He had Ironhide's silence agreement. Optimus didn't share their opinion.

Enigma looked back at the others, her optics narrowing slightly. Were they all curious to know just what they left behind, just how badly Cybertron had suffered before coming to its end. She spun around and walked back into the hanger, they wanted to know, then fine, she would show them. She didn't bother to wait for them to gather around her, she engaged her holographic projector.

Cybertron sprang up around them; black smoke filled the air, never ending pits and caverns stretched as far they could care to see. All around them where broken bodies, the scrap left behind from the Decepticons mayhem. The ground seemed to glow blue from all the Energon spilt. A high pitched scream filled the air around them and the scene began to change, to move until they came upon the origin of the scream. A group of unprotected younglings being savaged. Being picked up one by one and either ripped apart or slammed against the formations around them.

The Decepticon turned to face them, then walk towards them. They recognized him as Sideways. Ironhide looked at Enigma, now he understood the way she acted in the C-17. Everything faded back, before they could speak another hologram flickered to life. Shrieking filled the air around them, the pounding of metal on metal, cannon blasts echoed off the hanger walls. It was daylight and the air was stale.

Again the scene began to move, moving much faster than before until everything stopped. Before laying upon the ground was a femme, her optics flickering as she clung to the youngling in her arms. Incomprehensible murmurs reached their audio receptors, it was clearly making them uncomfortable, but none of them could speak. They watched as the femme flew into the air and came back down in a rattling crash only twenty yards away, her spark flickering rapidly. The unnamed femme reached out for the screaming youngling, her hand fell to the ground, her spark had gone out.

The projection flickered then went out, Enigma collapsed to her knees clutching her arms around herself. She never wanted to relive it again, never wanted to see her friends and charges die. Optimus, the great leader of the Autobots, couldn't find the words to express his sorrow, to show the femme that he was sorry. Ironhide was enraged, as he rightly should be, while Ratchet was searching through his memory for something to offer the femme. Bumblebee was the first of them to move, kneeling down in front of her and pulling her to him, embracing her as the femme had the youngling.

Minutes passed in complete silence, until finally, they broke.

"I am sorry, Enigma," Prime turned away from her, he couldn't get the image of the broken bots out of his processor. He couldn't imagine living with those memories on a daily basis, the ones he had were bad enough. Although he wondered, if only for a moment, why she hadn't just told them what she saw, until he realized that even he couldn't put it into words. He walked out of the hanger, leaving the other with their thoughts.

Bumblebee continued to hold Enigma close to him, the pull in his spark filling him with warmth. He didn't know how she felt, what is what that was eating away at her now. She had shared her troubles with them, so why was she so upset now? He wanted to help her, to take the pain away. "Enigma, I wish to help you."

She brought her head up, her optics meeting his in question. "There is nothing you, any of you, can do to help me. This is my burden to bear. My memories…"

"Don't start with that, 'Nig. You're one of us and by Primus we help each other. It's about time you realized that," grumbled Ironhide from the other side of the room.

"Once again, Ironhide, you amaze us all with your inspirational words," replied Ratchet as he busied himself reorganizing his many tools.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, old timer."

"Watch who you call old timer, trinket."

"Why don't you go reformat yourself with a lug wrench?"

"I'd rather reformat you with a lug wrench," Ratchet turned to face his friend, the lug wrench fore-mentioned in hand.

"Bring it on, tinfoil turkey," Ironhide motioned for the CMO to come closer, mimicking one of the fighters he had seen on the world wide web.

"That's it manifold mouth. Come here!" Ratchet walked towards the weapons specialist, who in turn took a step back. He didn't want to end up welded to something he would regret. Nor did he want to discover that his cannons were now facing the wrong way.

Optimus walked back into the hanger, "It appears that things have returned to normal." He looked at each of his teammates one by one, if he could smile, he would have. Although seeing Enigma and Bumblebee so intimately embraced caused him to question the reason they were still in the hanger. Surely it would be wise for them to go and leave the two of them alone. However, judging by the manor in which Ironhide and Ratchet were acting it was better for them to be out of sight of the humans.

"Oh slag."

CRASH!

Bumblebee got to his feet, pulling Enigma with him. He wanted to be alone with her, maybe then she would be able to talk to him more. Maybe she would be able to open up to him, to let her spark guide her. He glanced at the others before heading towards the door, they walked passed Optimus who was trying very hard to get his Medical Officer away from his Weapons Specialist. Their disappearance would have gone unnoticed had Ironhide not chosen that moment to state the obvious.

"No swapping paint! Ow! Slag it, Ratch! Let me be!"

"Mute your vocal processors, Ironhide," Optimus said, allowing Ratchet to smack him in the back of the head with a lug wrench. His optics stayed the pair of bots until they disappeared around the side of the hanger. He looked at the two scraping robots and joy filled him. Love it seemed, was a very powerful thing, even for them. He turned his back to Ironhide and Ratchet.

"Of all the things that this world has taught us, love and friendship remain the most powerful. Even in the face of such destruction human and Autobot alike are able to find love. Our worlds are not so different, and there may yet be hope for Cybertron to find life again."

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Quotes used by Bumblebee: Batman Forever; Alfred Pennyworth, Buffy the Vampire Slayer; Rupert Giles, Terminator 3 Rise of the Machines; Dr. Peter Silberman, Supernatural; Sam Winchester, 30 Rock; Tracy Jordon.

Author Note: Thank you guys so much for reading my fanfiction. And to those of you that reviewer I would like to extend a very big Cybertronian hug from Enigma. It is my great pleasure to inform you that it is finally finished. And if my muses continue to work with me there may, and it's a big may, be a sequal. So keep on the look out. Lots of love, MA