19. Failure

Tired of feeling lost
Tired of letting go
Tear the whole world down
Tear the whole world down
Tired of wasted breath
Tired of nothing left
Tear the whole world down
Tear the whole world down
Failure

-Failure, Breaking Benjamin

"Sunny, slow down! This is a residential area!"

Sunny huffed as he as he let up going from fifty to twenty-five. He just wanted to get to the apartment as soon as possible, but since there was an accident on the main road they had to cut through the side streets and neighborhoods.

"Dude, what is your deal?" "Sam was just captured," Sunny said. "Don't you feel at least a little uncomfortable leaving Maggie and Glen alone?"

"They're in a populated area," Sides pointed out. "The Decepticons wouldn't attack them in public. They can't risk the exposure."

"I don't know about that anymore," Sunny said grimly.

"What do you mean?"

"Taking a boy so closely linked to us and one of the most powerful governments on Earth is exposure within itself," he explained. "Going after him was risky."

"That's…true." Sideswipe revved uneasily. "And what with them getting Megatron's remains out of the trench."

"I don't think that discretion in a factor in their plans anymore," Sunny said bitterly.

"Okay," Sides said, surrendering. "But this is still a residential street. Could we please slow down? I don't want to hit any human children running into the street after a ball."

"Most of the humans are sleeping, Sides. It's nearly 4 AM."

"Well, I don't want to hit a dog or cat either. They're cute."

"Sides…"

"What?" the mech replied indignantly. "Look at Sam's dog. Any animal that small brave to pee on Ironhide is a bona fide hero in my book. Now tell me that you don't like that little guy?"

Sunstreaker couldn't tell his brother that he didn't like Mojo. Sure the dog yapped a lot, but he had grown on a lot of the Autobots. Ironhide, of course, was excluded from that. Man, could he hold a grudge.

"He's okay in my book," Sunny admitted.

"Don't you wish we had been here to see that?" Sides signed whimsically. "That would've been a sight."
Sunny found himself grinning internally. "That it would have been."

"So, can we slow down please?"

"Ten over?"

Sides probably wanted to go the speed limit but took that as the best he was going to get out of his brother. "Fine," he relented. "Do it now while I'm still in a good mood so quit your lollygagging." He drove up close behind his brother, nearly bumping him.

Sunny scoffed at the term. "Lollygagging?"

"It's a human expression for wasting time."

"Whatever," Sunny said, mentally rolling his eyes.

The Lamboghinis sped up following the tight curve with ease until they were eventually spit back onto a main road passed the accident clean up. They exceeded way over the speed limit outside the residential area, weaving in between cars, getting an array of horns and middle fingers. They both figured that they really were both driving like real 'douche bags,' as Sam would call it, but neither really cared at this point. Getting to their contacts was the priority.

They made it to the apartment and Sunny immediately noticed that Maggie's Sebring was gone. Sides called Glen's cell, getting an answer on the second ring. Glen, who knew that the Autobots had already returned state side, met them in the usual spot behind the building where they were safe from prying eyes.

"How did Keller take it?" Sides asked his partner.

Glen sighed heavily, leaning against the brick wall. "I couldn't tell. He looked like he was dealing, but I don't know…"

Sunny's expression was grim, full of worry and question. "Where's Maggie?"

"Oh, she went to get us pizza," Glen said. "She should be back pretty soon."

Sunny looked less then pleased as his arms crossed over his chest. "Right." He really didn't like the idea of Maggie being out there on her own.

She just went to get pizza, he reminded himself. She would be back soon. Sunny drifted in and out of the conversation between his brother and Glen. His gaze repeatedly drifted to the mouth of the alley, waiting to see the Sebring drive by with a blonde human behind the wheel, a stack of pizzas in the passenger seat. She never showed.

Jason pulled off the bloodied gloves and his mask. He ignored the wide stain of blood, turning brown, on the front of his gown as he tore it off. Leaning against the scrub sink, he took a few breaths. Looking through the glass back into the OR, he watched his assistant, circulator, and scrub tech finish putting on the rest of the bandages. Dr. Rice, the MDA, already explained to him that Maggie would be leaving on a vent and transported to the ICU.

He couldn't say he was surprised by that.

Turning on the water, Jason washed his hands, disregarding how they shook.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. Jason turned to find another surgeon standing beside him, looking into the OR and not commenting on his colleague's jumpiness.

"How'd the rest of it go?" he asked.

Dr. Craft was a neuro surgeon. While Jason's primary focus was orthopedic trauma, Dr. Craft was called in to address the contusions to Maggie's head. Dr. Craft was an older surgeon, but, as he claimed, not ready for retirement anytime soon.

Jason sighed. "It went...good."

Craft offered sympathetic pat on the back. "I took a look at her CT scan. From what I see, the swelling in her brain isn't as severe as we had originally thought. I'm going to suggest monitoring and medication before we put any burr holes in her head."

Jason nodded understandingly.

"Campbell in up on the floor and will be down to see what he can do about her lung."

Jason nodded again. He wasn't a big fan of Campbell. The thoracic surgeon was not a favorite among the staff, but his skills, experience, and knowledge could not be denied.

"You alright?"

Jason looked at his colleague, who bore a genuine look of concern. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Cause if I didn't know any better, I'd said that she was your sister or something. You look like hell, man."

The younger doctor tried to shrug it off. "Nah, just...a long case is all."

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't call in Dan or Rick."

Dan and Rick with other orthopedic surgeons in the hospital. Given Maggie's extensive injuries to both her legs and arm, Jason probably could have used the help, but the thought honestly never occurred to him. In his mind it was smoothing that he needed to handle himself. In his specialty, he didn't trust anyone else to do it.

"I'll finish my dictation. Page me if you need anything else."

Jason nodded and offered a small, grateful smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Allen."

Craft offered him one last pat on the back and went down the hall.

Jason made his way to the locker room, pulling his phone from his pocket when he was inside. Flipping it open and turning it on, he let his head hit the locker with a soft thud and a clang of metal, staring down at the screen that was held between him and the doors.

Thirty-seven missed calls and they were all from Ratchet.

He hit send to the mech's personal contacting number and waited. He answered on the first ring.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, human."

"Yeah, I know."

"I am on my way. You will take time off. If you do not sign for your time off I will drive in there and do it for you."

Ratchet's dubbed 'mother hen' tone actually pleasant to hear. "You know you can't do that."

"…It doesn't mean I don't want to."

"I'll take my vacation," the doctor assured (probably for the hundredth time…not an exaggeration). "I promise. I just can't right now."

"Give me one good reason."

Jason thought back on Maggie, battered, bruised, and broken in the OR. He thought about how he had run a blade against her skin, how he tried to force her broken bones back together. He had done that to a friend. He released a shuddering sigh as his eyes slipped shut.

Multiple ribs were broken and one managed to puncture her right lung. Her legs had sustained a lot of damage being trapped under the dashboard. Her left arm was broken near the elbow, her collar bone snapped, and her shoulder had been dislocated. Thank God it wasn't looking like the brain edema was not as acute as originally thought, but it was still a concern. If any monitoring lapse and the swelling were to get worse, it could lead to permanent brain damage and even death.

Jason couldn't even say if Maggie would wake up any time soon.

"Jason?" Ratchet asked, his voice growing anxious. "What's the matter?"

"It's Maggie," Jason said hoarsely. "She was attacked, Ratch. I just got out of surgery."

Ratchet was silent.

"I don't know who it was, but the eye-witnesses said that it was a giant robot. It picked up her car, with her in it, and crushed it."

"Is she alive?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes, she's alive," Jason answered. Sitting down on the bench he leaned forward, running a hand over his head. "But she's still critical. She's being taken to the ICU now. I don't know when she'll wake up. I…I had to do it. I…couldn't trust anyone else to do it."

Neither of them were going to get into the ethical and moral issues with Jason operating on a close friend and technical co-worker.
"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call anyone. It'll all happened pretty fast."

"Understood," Ratchet said. "I don't know if I should notify her family," Jason said, and added, much more softly, "and I don't know how we're going to tell Sunny."
"I will talk to Sunstreaker," Ratchet replied quickly. "As for her family…"

"I'm pretty sure they all still live in Australia," Jason said. "I won't call them yet."

"Alright."

"I'll call you with any updates."

"As will I."

Jason sighed again, his eyes slipping shut tiredly. "And Ratchet?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you when you got back. I know that—"

"Do not trouble yourself over it," Ratchet said kindly. "I will talk to you later."

"Okay."

Snapping his phone shut Jason sighed, yet again, absently noting that he was doing that a lot more than usual lately. He stood quickly, intending to keep a close eye on Maggie. As he rose, his vision swarmed and his world went sideways as a dull throb beat behind his eyes and in his temples.

"Not again," he pleaded, his voice mixed with dread and annoyance.

He dropped to his knees. His peripheral vision went out first and he felt himself lurching forward. He tired to put a hand out to stop himself, but his arm collapsed under his weight and he hit the cold ground with a thud and he didn't get up.

Will entered his home as quietly as he could, leaving Ironhide to idle on the driveway. He went down the hall, his daughter's room was first on the left, but from the doorway he could immediately see that she wasn't in her crib. Panic swelled in his chest. Rushing further down the hall, he threw open the door to his and Sarah's room, mouth opened, ready to shout, but stopped at what he saw.

Sarah was lying fast asleep with Annabelle beside her. The woman's arm was draped protectively over their child. The pillows were piled along the edge of the bed to keep the baby from rolling away and off the bed. Will inhaled a shaky breath and staggered back into the doorframe, relief evident in his posture.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he walked towards the bed. Moving the pillows, he slipped easily onto the bed beside Annabelle, facing his wife and just stared at her for a moment. Reaching out, he traced his calloused, war worn fingers across Sarah's cheeks. Her blue eyes slid open groggily as she leaned into it. A smile came to her face and Will reveled in the fact that their daughter had not only inherited her eyes and hair, but her smile as well, but the situation was far too grim for him to stay in this moment for much longer.

Sarah seemed to realize that something was wrong, her smile falling into a concerned expression as she studied her husband's face in the dim moonlight.
"What happened?" she asked softly.

"We need to go," Will whispered back. "We're going to stay on base for a while."

Sarah's lips were pursed together. "Can I ask why?"

Will's eyes closed for a moment. Taking a breath he said, "Sam was taken by the Decepticons."

Sarah's eyes widened considerably. "Oh, God. Why? When?"

Will idly thought how odd it was that it had to take telling Sarah that Sam was kidnapped made it more real for him. "I'll explain on the way," he said. "Pack everything you think we'll need. I'll pack for Annabelle."

Sarah clearly wanted all of the answers now, but she wouldn't press until they were safely with Ironhide. She nodded and got out of bed, careful not to disturb Annabelle. Once out of bed she rushed to the closet and started throwing clothes into duffle bags. Will watched his wife for a moment, seeing her frantic motions worriedly. Getting out of bed he approached her.

"Sarah."

"What?" she snapped.

"Sarah."

"What, Will?" she hissed. "What?"

He pulled her to him, tightly holding her against his chest. Sarah didn't fight it even though she had looked as though she would have. For a moment she was still. Then her arms came up around him and squeezed. Taking just a few precious seconds, Will and Sarah took comfort in each other's arms, something they hardly had time for anymore. Annabelle's soft whine drew her parent's attention. Wiggling on the bed she tried to roll over.

Sarah sighed. "You better start packing. Knowing Ironhide he'll be getting impatient soon."

Will smiled gently, leaning to kiss Sarah's forehead. "Be right back."

Will went to the bed and scooped up his daughter who smiled upon seeing the shadowed form of her father. Heading to his daughter's room, Will set her in her crib giving her Bobo, her stuffed lamb which she snuggled with. While Will went about the room packing Annabelle's essentials, she pulled herself up in her crib clutching Bobo watching. When he tripped over her lawn mower she giggled.

"You would think that's funny," he said. "I'm going to start supervising your visits with Ironhide."

Annabelle giggled again and bounced in her crib, holding tightly on to the bars and Bobo. Will made a point to stop and tickle her belly, but as he continued, she became disinterested and played with Bobo, humming and cooing to herself.

With numerous bags on his shoulder, being a very prepared Dad, he picked up his daughter out of her crib. She made the "I'm-gonna-start-crying-now" sound when she dropped Bobo, which Will quickly snatched from the carpet, handing it to her. As he left the room, Sarah came out of theirs with two large duffle bags.
The tailgate went down as soon as Ironhide saw the couple. Passing Annabelle to her mother, Will packed the bags before going back into the house for a contraption that Ironhide huffed irritably at.

"I hate that thing," he grumbled.

Annabelle squealed excitedly at the disembodied voice leaning towards the truck, arms extended. Sarah stepped closer so the baby could touch the warm metal, smiling when the truck shifted into the little hands.

The back door popped open and Will proceeded to put the car seat into place. Stepping again to let Sarah put Annabelle inside, clutching Bobo tightly, looking just as annoyed as Ironhide felt about the contraption. As Sarah fussed over the buckles, trying to figure them out, Annabelle voice her displeasure and struggled in the seat.

"What me to do it?" Will offered.

"I can do it," Sarah countered.

"If you don't hurry up I'm going to do it," Ironhide growled.

Annabelle starting wailing.

"Well if you didn't keep breaking them I'd actually remember how the straps work," Sarah stated.

"Well, if you stopped leaving them in here I wouldn't break them."

Will took a step back.

"Don't even start with me, Ironhide," Sarah said, her voice deadly soft, "or you'll wake up with a new, very pink paint job."

Ironhide grumbled about temperamental females and Sarah finally got the infant strapped in. "Took you long enough,' the mech said.

"That's it!" Sarah said tossing her arms up. "When I'm through with you, they'll be calling you Pinkhide."

"I'd like to see you try," Ironhide challenged.

"Okay," Will interrupted. "Time to go."

Sarah still smacked the hood of the truck as she walked around to the passenger side. Will laughed uneasily as he climbed into the driver seat. As soon as Sarah was in next to him, she smacked his arm. Ironhide and Annabelle laughed as his high pitched yelp and 'what did I do?' He would tell Sarah, but Ironhide was very good at being an outlet for nervous energy. He'd thank him later when Sarah wasn't around.

When Peyton returned to the base with Kale and Optimus, plus a majority of Ratchet's equipment packed in a trailer, Peyton said she had to go to the Mission City crime lab. Since Optimus had recently been "rejected" as evidence he no longer had to worry about being tailed by law enforcement and he was able to drive Peyton to where she needed to be.

"Okay," she said, grabbing her bag from the floor, "you should head back to base."

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"I'll be fine," she stated, trying the door, frowning as it stayed locked. "I'll have a police escort."

"That's not enough."

"Optimus," she said, more gently then she thought she could, "I'll be fine. I don't think it would look good if I drove a semi to a crime scene, plus, they'll need you at the base. Keep an eye on Bee."

Optimus hummed understandingly. Keeping an eye on Bumblebee was something that held high priority. With Sam's kidnapping, the scout was probably itching to take off at the first chance he got to find him.

Peyton tried the door again, but it was still locked. "Optimus…"

"I do not think I have to tell you to be careful, but I will anyways," he quoted. "Be careful. Keep a watchful eye."

"I will," she assured. When she tried the door this time it popped open. Hoping out she threw her bag over her shoulder. "I'll call you as soon as I come up with anything. Do the same?"

"I will."

Optimus was still hesitant to drive off, only doing so when she was inside the building. She walked down the hall, subconsciously noting all the differences between the lab in Las Vegas versus this one. For one, the Mission City lab was a lot bigger, definitely roomier. Fiddling with her visitor's pass she got at the front desk she had been told to head to the supervisor's office, who would assign her a team she would lead. She had never been in a leadership position, at least not like this, before. Knocking on the door, marked by the designation and name she had been given. Through the glass she could make out the form of a tall man sitting at a desk over stacks of papers and folders. Upon a call of 'come in' Peyton opened the door and entered the room. The man didn't even look up. Peyton was questioning Jeffery's statement about not receiving full cooperation. The man was thin with thin graying hair with an ever growing bald spot on the crown on his head. Frowning, Peyton cleared her throat.

"I know your there," he said. "No need for that."

Peyton resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He looked up at her (finally) his dark eyes holding annoyance. "You must be Peyton Callaghan."

"Yes, sir," she said. "You must be Henry Nichols."

He grinned, but there was no humor in it. "That's what it says on the door."

At her side, Peyton's hands formed fists. Keep it respectful, she mentally encouraged. "You know," he began, rising from his desk, "it's not everyday that I get a call from the Secretary of Defense and a fax from the President of the United States telling me that they have their private CSI coming you use my lab."
Peyton blinked. She knew that she had the full backing of the government to use the lab without hindrance, but being called a 'private CSI.' Sounded fancy.
Softly, she said, "I'm sure it isn't."

He tapped the surface of his desk with his index finger, looking intrigued. "You plan on filling me in on what's going on?"

Peyton swallowed, trying to think how she could emulate authority like that of a government agent. Chin held high she thought about all the movies she had seen involving secret agents, like Mission: Impossible, Bourne Identity, hell, even Men In Black. "The…particulars of the case are classified, but I will say that involves the abduction of a boy."

An eerie grin came to his face as he walked around the desk. "An abduction? A kidnapping is classified? What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

Peyton countered the look. "I don't take you for a idiot at all. I'm only allowed to disclose what I have been authorized to by the President of the United States." Man, she really hoped he bought this.

"So you want to take my team and have them not know what they are looking for?"

Peyton stepped forward. "This is all on a need to know basis," she said. "They will know whatever is deemed necessary in order for us to find this kid."
"And what is that?"

She fell silent, glaring at the tall, skinny man with plain annoyance. She wasn't sure what the President had fazed him or what Keller had said to him over the phone, but obviously it wasn't much.

"You know what," she began fiercely, "I don't have time for your bitching. I have a scene to process and the longer you make me wait the bigger the gap between me and the kidnappers grows. I don't care if you're pissed because you don't know what's going on, because your hands are tied. Now, give me a kit and my team and I'll be on my way."

The look on this face was scathing. "You can't just—"

"Actually, I believe you received a fax saying that yes, indeed, I can."

The man's jaw was clenched tightly, his teeth were probably grinding.

"Look, Dr. Nichols, your reputation precedes you," she began, more gently. "I have a lot of respect for you." She tried to smile. "Jeffery may have mentioned you a few times.

Nichols looked confused. "Jeffery Ellis?"

Peyton nodded. "I don't want to be disrespectful but I really need to get going. Will you please help me?"

Nichols stared at her for a long moment and Peyton thought that he wouldn't give in. But when the man sighed and walked passed her, gesturing with a flick of his wrist for her to follow him, hope swelled. Peyton stayed a few paces behind him as he led her down the hall to the break-room. Upon walking in and seeing the three people sitting with coffee and chatting away she felt a little homesick, missing the way that he team would talk and joke during their breaks. There were two men and one woman, all older than her.

"Ms. Callaghan, this is my graveyard shift," Nichols said. "Guys, this is Peyton Callaghan from Las Vegas."

"Sin City," one of the men exclaimed, his voice thick with a southern accent. "What's it like working there?"

Peyton found herself grinning. "Sinful."

The man nodded approvingly. "Nice."

The woman that sat between the two guys stared at her, looking curious and suspicious. She had short chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes. She was probably in her early thirties. "So what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Ms. Callaghan," Nichols began, sending the brunette a warning stare, "is here on behalf of the government investigating a kidnapping."

The second man, a tall man with dark and uniquely green eyes, rose from his seat to get more coffee looking skeptical. "The government's looking into kidnappings now?"

"This is a special case," Peyton replied.

"Who was kidnapped?" the first man asked.

"A boy," she replied. "Seventeen years old."

"What's so special about him? Is he the son of a senator or something?"

Peyton shifted on her feet. "Or something."

"So what do you need with us?" the woman asked.

"You three will be helping Ms. Callaghan process the scene from the boy was taken," Nichols explained.

"Wait," the first guy said again, his dark eyes confused, "doesn't the government have, like, secret special crime scene investigators for this? Why us?"

"You are the closest to the scene," Peyton said. "And we need to move fast."

"Wow," the guy said again, leaning back in his chair. "I feel special now."

"So do we have to answer to you?" the woman asked.

Peyton couldn't tell if the woman just didn't trust easily or just didn't like her. "Yes, I'll be the leading CSI on this."

The woman looked less then thrilled.

Nichols coughed over the awkwardness. "Right, I guess we should make some introductions, huh?" He gestured to the woman. "Ms. Callaghan, this is Katherine Marshal," he pointed to the man getting coffee, who waved easily, "Troy Osmond and Nick Rodgers."

The southern guy looked her up and down appreciatively with an easy smile. "Nice to meet you Ms. Callaghan," he said.

Peyton was blind to his looks, but she still smiled. "It's nice to meet all of you as well. I just wish it was under better circumstances. And please, call me Peyton."

"So," Katherine said, getting to her feet, "I guess we'll ask questions on the way over."

"Yeah," Peyton nodded. "Get your equipment and let's go."

"I'm driving," Nick announced.

"You always drive," Troy said, following the man out the door.

Katherine rolled her eyes and followed them out.

Peyton smiled. There were some similarities between Katherine, Troy, and Nick and Grant, Kelly, and Carter. Frowning for a split second she shook them out of her mind. She didn't have time for reminiscing.

Looking up at Nichols, she smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

Nichols still looked rather put out, but he nodded nonetheless. "Good luck."

When Sunny got an incoming call from Ratchet he was surprised, but vowed that even if was delivering a message from Optimus for them to return to the air base he wouldn't go until Maggie was back. Glen was pacing after having tried Maggie's cell multiple times, hell so did Sides, but neither received an answer.

Opening the link to Ratchet Sunny said, "What is it?"

"…Sunstreaker."

Sunny couldn't even begin to describe how much the tone of Ratchet's voice unnerved him. "What happened?"

"I just got off the phone with Jason," the medic said. "Maggie is in the hospital."

Sunny felt his spark sink. "…Why?"

"She was attacked, Sunstreaker, by the Decepticons. We don't know who yet. The humans are calling it a car accident on Henderson Avenue."

Sunny felt his knees shake, but he was in too much shock to realize that he was actually using the use the wall of the adjacent building to keep himself from collapsing. He and Sides had driven right past the accident on their way to the apartment. What if he had driven right past Maggie? The ache in his spark seem to think so.
"Sunny?" Sides asked softly, obviously worried.

"She's alive," Ratchet explained further, "but her injuries are severe. You should head over there now."

Sunny felt his head nodding, then realized that ratchet wouldn't be able to see that and said. "I'll go right now."

"Sunny," Ratchet asked, "are you alright?"

"Sunstreaker?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm going now."

"You don't sound—"

Sunny cut off the link before the medic could finish. Maggie was hurt because he hadn't been there to protect her. The accident on Henderson Avenue; he drove right past it. Rage filled every circuit in his body and he vaguely recalled never being this angry before in his very lone existence.

His optics flickered to his brother who looked so naïvely confused. This only fueled his anger and for the first time ever he actually hated his brother.
"I told you to watch her," he seethed. "You promised me you would watch her!"

Sideswipe was surprised when his twin leapt at him, knocking him into the apartment building. He could hear the startled screams of the occupants as the building shook. "Sunny, stop!" he cried. What's going on? Is Maggie okay? What happened?"

"This is your fault!" Sunny yelled in his face.

Glen, at their feet, stared up with fear in his wide eyes. "Calm down, man!" Sunny refuted this by shoving his brother further into the building. The brick cracked and chipped. "Just calm down!"

"SHUT UP, HUMAN!" Sunny roared, rounding on Glen. "You just had to stuff your fat mouth, didn't you? Why did you send Maggie, you lazy maggot!"

And that's where Sides drew the line, when it looked like his brother was ready to stomp Glen into the pavement. Shoving Sunny away from his contact, Sideswipe stepped in front of him protectively. "That's enough, Sunstrekaer!" he shouted. "You need to tell us what happened."

"Maggie was attacked," Sunstreaker replied, his tone dark with hate. "She was attacked and you weren't there."

Glen staggered back. "Attacked?"

Sideswipe looked utterly distraught. "Primus…"

Sideswipe didn't try to stop his brother from leaping at him again and let him knock him to the ground. The force of the fall sent Glen rolling backwards against the wall of the apartment building. Sides wasn't surprised when he looked up to find a charging canon in his face, Sunny face seething behind his.

Sides could hear Glen pleading with Sunny to stop as the disorientated him tried to get back to his feet. Sides lifted a hand and placed it between Sunny and Glen and Sunny entertained the idea of squashing Glen in front of his guardian. He wanted the life of the Decepticon that hurt his Maggie. He wanted to rip the bastards spark from his chest, hold it in front of him and watch the light go out in their optics. But more then anything he wanted Maggie. He wanted to see her alive, unwilling to believe it entirely until he saw her for himself.

Retracting his canon he transformed into his alternate mode and sped out of the alley.

Neither Glen nor Sideswipe tried to stop him.

A/N: So...been a while. Nothing much changed from this chapter either. Sorry for the long wait for an update. Thing is, I live at work. Never a dull day/night in the operating room. Thanks for sticking with me!

Please Review!

-Ray