"I think it's a good thing, that we missed the fight."

(Y/D) sat well away from the celebrating group as they looked to the now revived Cybertron.

         "I would have sided with my Sire anyway."

Smokescreen frowned as he sat beside her, not having the slightest clue of how this felt to her. Knowing whose side to cheer on, but being forced not to. 

     Reprogramming her thinking again would be far to dangerous, but the silver femme was pushing against the altered thinking well enough that she wasn't attacking anyone, though she stayed close to Smokescreen.

         "We don't know that," the mech tried to tell her, "besides, I would have redirected you if I needed to."

This resulted in a small smile, though short lived as Wheeljack came over, his cocky smirk causing both to tense. Smokescreen in anticipation, (Y/D) in anger.

         "I mean no harm," he chuckled, holding both servos up, "Just wanted to see how you both were doing."

     (Y/D) remembered him as her enemy, but she also remembered the recent, sweeter memories, and it frustrated her that she couldn't feel that friendly rivalry anymore, just a toxic hate.

         "We're fine," the new flier answered, "Right now's just... not a good time."

The team had been brushed up on (Y/D)'s treatment while imprisoned, down to the details of her symbiotes being taken away from her, which they were returned, their thinking process having been untouched. A fault of Soundwave or another plan of Shockwave? No one knew. These four were part of what kept (Y/D) sane at the moment, but one hadn't detached yet. The eldest, the fourth. This was his first appearance.

     From beneath her armor came bits and pieces, hardly enough to make one symbiote, but each hovered in one place above her lap, and formed a holographic cyber-beast. It's teeth were real, a sharpened edge made to deal damage, optics a pale gold, and claws on each four paw-like appendages just as menacing as its teeth. He resembled a lion, and looked just as fierce, maybe more so, even in his melancholy state, sitting on the lap of his lost and confused master.

         "This is no time to fight," he stated in a smooth and calming voice, like that of Aslan, and it made the Decepticon heir cry as she ran her digits through the digitally made wires that created this symbiote's mane, black and red colors glitching with the movement, "Rest, small one. I will wake you when you're needed..."

Nodding, the femme left, while the other symbiotes stayed behind as they watched their master leave them. They knew whose quarters she would take, and didn't argue with her as she turned towards her Sire's berthroom.

         "It's been a long time," Optimus started, while Smokescreen just stared at the beast before him, who shook his holographic mane before turning to the Prime.

         "Forgive me for my absence," the beast sighed, "My mainframe was badly damaged again. Even now I am not entirely myself."

         "Ever the cautious one," Ultra Magnus stated.

         "Pardon my say so, but you're one to talk," the beast answered back, which made the other three symbiotes snicker.

         "Sometimes you are to much, Excelsior," Mune twittered as she landed on the lion's holographic back.

         "Hey, I thought I had that title?" Ruckus cackled as he landed on Smokescreen's shoulder plate, surprising the bots around him.

Grub decided to take his opposite shoulder plate as he chittered in the familiar language Bumblebee used to use, but Arcee interrupted him.

         "Why didn't you guys go with (Y/D)?"

There was a long silence as the four looked to each other.

         "(Y/D)... has temporarily blocked our bond with her," Mune stated sadly, "So we do not know what she feels inside."

         "Our programming orders us to give her space when that happens," Ruckus continued, "A form of a higher privacy, meant to keep a master of any symbiote sane."

Grub chattered across from the pixie-like minicon, who yelled at him for calling him 'faulty', but Smokescreen caught the insane symbiote by his wings, like (Y/D) did.

         "Come on you guys," he sighed, shaking his helm, "(Y/D) would want you on your best behavior right now... Just, make sure you don't offline each other?"

The two smallest of the four nodded, and Smokescreen let go of Ruckus, who went back to sit on his shoulder plate.

     The celebrating had taken a darker turn after that. They landed on Cybertron, but no one felt the earlier excitement knowing that (Y/D) was in such bad shape. The loyal four stood guard at her current quarters, while Smokescreen, despite his argument, was ordered to help with any repairs needed to make Cybertron habitable again, and there was many.

         "Further exposure to the team should help," Ratchet stated as he cleaned a repair tool in the Nemesis sick bay, which he found to be more of a torture chamber (the old medic wanted to keep a close optic on (Y/D) ).

         "But what if it doesn't?" Smokescreen had been berating the older mech with questions pertaining to the young femme's condition.

         "Then we'll find other means, but reversing the damage already done is to risky, I've told you before."

The same answers for the same questions, over and over again. Nothing but a bunch of uncertainty and fear. So he changed the topic to Excelsior.

         "Excelsior was created by Echoblast to protect (Y/D) after an incident," Ratchet began.

         "What incident?"

There was a long pause before the medic answered.

         "(Y/D) was... she was... kidnapped. Under Optimus' care. Of course he was Orion then, wouldn't have hurt a Scraplet."

         "That's saying something..." Smokescreen shivered.

         "Indeed. She was rescued, of course, but not without a scar. If you look behind the armored plates on her backstruts, you'll find that she was almost offlined. A single scar near her spark chamber... Excelsior was programmed to help her in any time of need."

         "Then why hasn't he showed himself all this time? (Y/D) definitely needed him when we were trying to keep Megatron from the Omega Lock keys!"

         "When Echoblast died, so did a piece of Excelsior," Ratchet had stopped working by now, his servos holding most of his weight as he leaned on the metal counter, shaking, "So he looked to Soundwave for guidance, but failed to realize he had gone mad, and was to late to stop him from tampering with his mainframe. Soundwave was going to turn Excelsior into a killer, like (Y/D) had become, all that time ago."

         "But he failed... right?"

Another long silence, but Ratchet did not continue as he ordered Smokescreen out, to which he obliged, though still curious.

     Looking around, he saw no one to give him orders, so he gave himself the order to go check on the femme that changed his life. The mech had memorized the layout of the war ship, so knew his way to the captain's quarters, Megatron's quarters. When he was about to round the corner, he heard a low growl from who he could only assume was Excelsior.

         "I come in peace..." 'cause that's not cliche', the flier thought to himself.

         "Aw," Smokescreen peered over to the giant cat, who sighed, "forgive me, you are the one (Y/D)... trusts." It seemed like there was more to that, but the thought never crossed the rookie's processor.

         "Uh... yeah... how is she?"

         "Confused," he admitted, "and refuses comfort," the older symbiote looked to the closed door, "I told the others to join in the repairing of Cybertron... Mune should keep Ruckus in check."

         "If she doesn't pick a fight with Grub first."

Both chuckled, Excelsior's like a roll of thunder as he shook his wire-like mane, a few strands glitching.

         "Well, when she comes back out, tell her I'll be waiting if she needs me."

         "I will. Thank you, young Warrior."

Smokescreen smiled as he left the big cat, on his way back out to help where he can, unknowing of the prying audio listening on the other side of the door.

     Excelsior laid down on the metal floor after giving a giant yawn, setting his head on his paws.

         "Bonding with him may help."

         "Excelsior!"

The door flew open with a horrified urgency, and the eldest opened one optic lazily, quite amused with the embarrassed anger shown in his master's expression.

         "But what do I know?" he closed his optic, a smug smile on his metal maw, "After all, I'm only the more protective side of your Carrier. Why would I suggest something with a chance of working?"

(Y/D) pondered on this as she sat down, leaning against the door frame.

         "How much... of a chance?"

Excelsior lifted his head, looking to where the mech disappeared to.

         "Unfortunately, very small," he admitted, "but even if it didn't work, both of you would have something you want."

         "Both?" she raised an optic ridge, skeptical.

         "The fumes from your engines don't lie."

(Y/D) scoffed as she got back up, shutting the door once again, and Excelsior placed his massive head back down, still smiling. The part of Echoblast still inside him could see it, and so could he.