The ride was long and bumpy. The jostling sent painful jolts up my body as a lay against the cold metal floor. I fumbled with the ropes around my wrists uncomfortably, tears falling from my eyes. My mouth was gagged; it really hurt to try and make a sound because it was so tight. I did my best to keep my gaze away from the menacing figures sitting around me in the van. It was hard, though, not to stare at your captors. Their faces were either threatening or sneers. In the dark light, their eyes looked like they were glowing evilly.

Why was this happening to me? I had never asked for much. It hurt to have so little, but I had to be okay with it. Now my life had just gotten infinitely worse. A sob escaped my throat, causing the gag to squeeze tighter. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look anymore. I kept them closed for the rest of the uncomfortable ride. Tuning out the whispers of the men was another story.

Finally, the van slowed to a stop. I dared open my eyes, shrinking back in fear as the strange men stood up. The driver looked back at me distastefully, before motioning for the others to grab me. I whimpered as they forcefully took my shoulders and pulled me up. They opened the back of the van and pushed me forward. The sunlight stung my eyes, making them squeeze tightly. No longer able to see, I fell out of the back of the van and hit hard dirt. I cried behind the gag painfully, not caring if it hurt anymore. I just wanted someone to hear me. 

What did these people want with me? 

Other than the fact I had accidentally seen their... recent act.

"Get up," one said harshly, before another tugged at my arm roughly. I whimpered again and forced myself to stand, too afraid to fight back.

They led me into what looked like an old storage building, but the inside only held weapons and evil things. Things meant to hurt. I shifted my gaze left and right, but everything was terrifying. There was nothing I could turn to for comfort.

"Bring her here," came a new voice, deeper and commanding. I was shoved forward again, towards a dark corner of the room. I could see a figure standing there, hands behind his back.

I struggled against the restrains, now even more scared for my life. For some reason, this man's old, hard stare was enough to send violent shivers down my spine. Somehow I knew that he was the kind of man who had no problem doing whatever he wanted with me, or anyone else.

"Sir, what should we do with her?"

"I'm still deciding." The man turned his back. "For now, put her over there."

I was once again forced into a corner. I slunk back with my back against the wall, trying to get as far away as I could from these people. I didn't want this. I never wanted this. All I wanted was to go home, to see Mom again. 

A man noticed my fear and sneered, flicking out a pocket knife. My eyes widened in terror, knowing what was coming but not wanting to believe it. As he drew closer, I screamed and writhed into the corner, but there was nowhere to go. 

One word managed to escape my mouth, though muffled by the gag.

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"NO!!"

My whole body literally jumped awake, starting itself out of the nightmare. My breath came out quickly and panicked. Every part of me was shivering in fear, and I tried to comfort myself by wrapping my arms around me. I stared straight ahead, the scary images still flashing through my brain. I could almost feel the pain from that night. Tears formed in my eyes and fell freely, but I wasn't sobbing. For some reason, I couldn't cry.

"Taylor?!" 

I jumped and saw two Autobots watching me, Optimus and Ratchet. From the way he was looking at me, I had to guess that I was the latter who had shouted my name. I tried to answer, but all that came out of my mouth were chokes. I uncurled myself and brought my hands to my lips, crying silently. I couldn't look away; I stared at them pleadingly. I wanted help. What kind, I didn't really know. I just wanted something to tell me it was alright. The two looked panicked, but mostly Ratchet, as he rushed over to the deck where my bed was. Optimus leaned in behind him.

"Does it hurt?"

I shook my head, but stopped and then nodded slightly. I don't think it was the hurt he was talking about, but it still did. It hurt so much to remember.

"Where?" he asked frantically, doctor instincts taking over and reaching for me. 

I didn't flinch or draw back, like I had so long ago. Instead I reached for his digit quickly and hugged it. As I wrapped my arms around that small part of him, the harsh sobs finally escaped me. I felt relieved to finally cry, to let it all out. 

The medic was taken aback, surprised. Optimus seemed so as well, his optics widening slightly. He, too, reached for me with one digit, carefully laying it on my back as I wailed like a child. It was comforting, despite the hard material. I let one arm slip free of Ratchet's digit and touched Optimus' slightly. I was now squeezing my eyes closed; I didn't want to look.

Both of their digits didn't move. I held on to them and cried for a while longer. They remained silent, slowly understanding that I wasn't physically hurt, but needed some time to let my feelings out. After a few minutes, my cries turned into short sobs, before gradually becoming small whimpers. I slowly let go of Ratchet's digit; Optimus' gently found its way off my back. I still didn't look at them, just wiped my eyes and sniffed for a few minutes.

"Taylor," came the Prime's deep but gentle voice. "Are you.. alright?" 

I wanted to nod, assure him that I was okay, but I knew I wasn't. "N-no.."

"What happened?" Ratchet inquired. I finally looked up at their faceplates, gazing into their blazing blue optics. Their optic ridges were furrowed with concern. The fact that they actually cared comforted me. Lots of people had previously found it.. annoying.

"N-nightmare.." I mumbled, fiddling with my hands. "I haven't had that one in a long time..."

The bots looked at each other, the medic turning back to me. "I'm going to assume you don't want to talk about it right now?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I wanted them to know; but then again I was afraid of what they would think. I was grateful they were letting me make the choice though.

"I'm sorry.. not right now," I told them, looking away in shame. "I'm not ready yet.."

Optimus nodded. "There is no need for an apology, Taylor," he told me. "We understand if it is too painful."

Ratchet also nodded once, looking lost in thought. "Many Cybertronians had PTSD from the war when our planet finally went dark. Some even abandoned the Autobot and Decepticon division because they no longer wanted any part of the war," he explained, bringing a servo to his chin. "Given what traumatic experiences some fought, I can't say I blame them. Is this.. nightmare similar to that?"

"Y-yes," I whimpered, shuddering. "I had.. PTSD, too. For a little while." The dark days came flooding back and I closed my eyes tightly.

They glanced at each other again. Ratchet sighed, just before the sensors went off. I jumped a bit, still nerve-racked. Optimus looked to his friend, who had gone to the monitors to see what the problem was. He let out an annoyed groan and looked over to the Prime.

"It's Agent Fowler."

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MWAH HA HA HA HA!! Agent Fowler is comiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing............ here we go, kids.

Thankfully, I remembered what I was going to do for this chapter. I actually forgot and that's why I didn't update it for a while. Now the evil Agent is on his way MWAH HA HA.

No, I don't really think he's evil. I'm just joking around.

See ya.

*waves*