Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(This is surprisingly dark for me as I've been in a very good mood lately, so I'm chalking it up to the lack of caffine and sleep. Anyway. Enjoy!)

Dream: a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep.

When Jack had told her of dreams, she brushed it off, a snort of good humour proudly declaring the Cybertronians had no need for such things as dreams, fantasies and thoughts of the subconscious reeling in a movie like form as you acted it out like a puppet on a string.

But that had been the response the human had needed to hear.

How could she tell him that Cybertronians nowadays didn't just dream? They lived in nightmares, one tortured recharge cycle at a time. The deaths of partners, friends and family playing before their sleeping optics as they assumingly rested.

Could she tell him that all of the Autobots, even Bulkhead, feared the thought of recharge with such a passion that Ratchet had once had to force the large mech wrecker into stasis lock to prevent him from falling offline in battle?

But she had been weak that evening in the woods, the day the she-spider had returned to haunt her living nightmare called life. To tease and toy with her already scarred spark, the flashbacks of the loss of her first partner and lover, Tailgate, dying under her striking limb, and the reminder that Cliffjumper's deactivation had been her own fault. She had gotten too close once more only to have another partner and lover stripped from her side.

The flashbacks that night had given Jack a reason to suspect that she had been lying about dreams, and she gave him a sad smile as she entered the garage back at the human's home. The human jesting that he wished he had a Cybertronian's ability to not have dreams as he darkly joked about the nightmares that would likely result from their little 'tussle' with the head hunting spider bot.

A thin smile was all she could muster as he jogged up the stairs, getting an earful from his mother about being late once again from 'wherever it was that he hung out'. She transformed into her motorbike form and slouched against the cement wall with a tired sigh.

It had been too close again. She had nearly lost another partner.

She wasn't aware she had slipped into recharge until she onlined her optics, finding herself sitting with her back to a bright shining light, the shadow cast over her radiating from a mech she was leaning against.

"Thought we'd drop in." the voice chuckled softly as she leant against the warm white swirled back strut plating of a long dead mech with a content, world weary sigh of her vents. "Give you a good dream for once."

"You mean you two are getting along?" she replied sceptically from where she was facing away from the mech, unable to see his dark ruby frame or gold optics.

"Of course." A newer voice snorted, this mech's horned silhouette standing beside the sitting one that supported her weight easily, both mechs looking ahead into the light, a subtle reminder of the divide of death and life between them. "Me and Tailgate have been playing that card game those humans played one time in the Ground Bridge Control Room, pooker was it?"

"Poker, Cliffjumper" The darker ruby mech replied in correction "And Snap. Go Fish. 21."

"Oh! And Happy Families!" Cliffjumper jumped in again making her chuckle at the two mechs who had once meant so much to her alive, now bantering in the oddly light sparked dream. "I still say you cheat Tailgate."

"Do not." The other mech snorted "Besides you owe me twenty credits. I told you she'd keep the kid."

"Bah, lucky guess." Cliffjumper grumbled crossing his arms and sticking out his glossa as Arcee slowly turned, mentally praying that they would still be the same as she remembered.

Tailgate was just as she had last seen him before their capture that had led to his murder, a handsome dark ruby mech with random bursts of white swirls decorating his frame with cheeky golden optics that hardened or softened with his moods peering over his shoulder at her.

Cliffjumper hadn't changed a cocky smile and slight tilt to the hip signalling a mech of confidence as he grinned down at her with oceanic blue optics. His red plating shone in the iridescent light of the mysterious white sun and his helm horns crested his helm like the devious creature she had known him to be.

"Sweet Dreams Arcee." The chorused softly as a loud beeping noise rattled through her perfectly happy moment, her fingers, so close to touching the two mechs lost to her, falling right through the now pained looking Tailgate who had turned to face her, his throat cabling suddenly bursting in a flare of energon coating her front in a wash of shiny blue, a cry of horror escaping her vocaliser as Cliffjumper's frame became torn and twisted, a horn missing as the light crumbled around them, shattering like sugar glass.

"Arcee!"

She awoke with a start, jumping away from the wall in her motorcycle form, to crash against the garage door, rattling the white metal on its hinges, drawing forth a startled sound, suspiciously like a squeak from her vocaliser as she regained her bearings.

Jack was standing before her, holding a helmet looking surprised at the dark blue femme that shuddered. "Arcee." He sounded almost disappointed. "Cybertronians don't just dream do they? They have nightmares too."