I do not own Transformers or any of their products, shows, etc.

My goal was to update this in a week, but my cats kept meowing everytime I tried to type and alot of things have been happening. Here's the next chapter.

Crosshairs jolted awake, optics widening in a hint of fear before they narrowed; The blue autobot was watching him. Just staring intently. "Something is wrong." His words hummed around the air surrounding them both. "You are not yourself."
At that, the green mech snapped," What do ya know? You weren't there!" His spark clenched tightly. Drift continued to watch, optics centered on the Stingray. Suddenly, the corvette felt his tanks mix again. He even swore he heard them splash with the... nevermind. He shouldn't be thinking about that. His gaze traveled to the floor. "Er, forget everything I said." The optics shuttered closed as he pushed himself up, making a mad dash for the exit.

"How strange." The bugatti mumbled through his dentas. He yelled out," Why do you keep avoiding my presence." No answer. Exactly what he expected. It's not like something horribly bad happened while he left, right? Although his actions do represent fear, his choice of words is poor. And so, allowing a gap for the samurai to piece together the wierd behavior. He dosen't have it yet, but he'll figure everything out. By the way, where did his friend go?

He twisted around quickly, sprinting out the same doors the other had just ran out of. The blue autobot stopped to examine the spacious environment outside. "Crosshairs!" His voice rang out. Not a single sign of him. Breathing a sigh, the bugatti stepped back inside to strategize his next plan.

Meanwhile, the green corvette cruised around town, keeping a low profile just like Cade said. He did indeed see more police cars than usual and even the occasional FBI truck. Aw, Frag it all. This whole situation was a mess. Why didn't he just transform right here and end all his humiliation and pain. A small voice whispered in the back of his head,' Because you would leave Drift.' The hell was that supposed to mean? The Stingray stopped at a red light.

He considered his options briefly. Do I tell someone? What will they think of me? I mean, Drift is already suspicious so it would be smarter to let him know first. But sadly, my dignity is too big. And so is my pride. Suddenly, tears sprang to his eyes and he had to swallow a lump in his throat to hold it back. He vaguely remembered his dream, no. Nightmare.

He shouldn't even be remembering stuff like this in the middle of town. The small hometown was cozy, comfy in a nutshell kinda way. Everything was usually peaceful but now, the police were searching for them again. They just don't give up. The light reflected across his windshield, droplets hanging loosely from his exterior giving him a pristine look. Sadly, his insides weren't as clean as his outside made him tell.

Crosshairs drove silently through town, pondering over where to park and try to control his emotions even though he was fighting a losing battle. Somewhere isolated and alone where nobody would even think to look but not too quiet where a certain Bugatti would be meditating. Would he even be meditating? A wave of nausea ran through his circuits and he knew he had to think fast.

A lonely darkened alley, (I know, right? A freaking alleyway) was spotted across the corner he had just come from. That was about the only place he could let loose since everyone was so crazy and hectic. With a quick glance, he noticed that there were no cars, police, or FBI following him or in the vicinity so he transformed as silently as he could and slunk into the black crevase. Once he got there, he attempted once more to squeeze his optics shut, preventing any liquids of any sort to escape his control. A failure. That's what he was.

Tears leaked out of the corners of his optics and he came up with a truism. When the first tear slips, they all slip. He bowed his head onto his knees, pulling them as close as they could get when he heard a voice.

"There is something you have not been telling me." The sweet tone of the bugatti was comforting and flipped the atmosphere dramatically from sadness to warmth. The Corvette relaxed into the change, momentarilly forgetting that this autobot was the one he should keep his dialogue away from. Some horrid memories returned followed by his nightmare and he muttered something incoherrent as he pulled himself closer to his knees. Drift dropped down with a soft thud and approached the sobbing Stingray.

"There is something wrong?"

Crosshairs chuckled, voice choking on his speech," No Drift! There's nothing wrong." He shifted abit, uncomfort obvious in his position. "Ah'm just crying cause' I feel like it!"

Was that a hint of sarcasm he heard? The blue bot knew to be patient with issues and matters so serious that they could make even the strongest weep. But if it made this weapons expert shed tears, then that means it was a difficult problem for him to solve. " I understand the pain of the battles and most of us have to grieve."

Again, Crosshairs breathed out shakily, trying to laugh but not able to," You think Ah give a damn about these past few battles." His voice cracked at the end and he glared quietly at the other as Drift seated himself beside his friend. So this was a tricky case. If it wasn't about the deaths of his fellow comrades then what was it?

"Was it something I said-"

"Know what?" The green autobot raised his helm to face his ally and the peaceful samurai saw the dull grayness seeping into his optics. Whatever this 'problem' was, it was eating the other alive. "Ah just ain't gonna tell nobody. Cause they'll think I was a fool." He lowered himself back down to sulk as Drift sat there, astonished that his friend would say that. He wouldn't think anything less of Crosshairs and the other should know it! Did he have to remind him of all the fights and training they did together?

"I will not think you a fool. Now, will you explain to me why you would think I would believe that assumption." He lowered his helm to make eye-contact and Crosshairs shuddered before twisting his body around to face away from the wandering optics. Unfortunately, his coat fell open to reveal the right portion of his body, exposing the numerous bruises and dents he had hidden. The one that stood out the most was on his hip, a deep indent that bent his metal inward at certain points. Drift had wanted to gasp at the sight but instead focused all his inner strength not to startle the green mech.

"Have you been injured recently?" He asked, purely out of curiousity if the corvete would answer truthfully this time. His sobbing seemed to stop abruptly as he felt a breeze pass through his dense coat. That coat was pretty dense. He got the hint and yanked his coat from the ground, wrapping it around his torso as far as it could go; The tears were a pain to hold back but he managed this time and muttered," Yeah, you could say that," in a cracked voice.

Before the bugatti had time to open his mouth, a loud piercing siren echoed around the alley. A black truck was rolling their way, obviously spotted them, and alerted anyone in the vicinity to arrive to this pinpoint. They both scrambled to get away; Drift scaled up to the rooftops where he had hopped down from earlier and Crosshairs quickly wiped his cheeks with the back of his servos. He was still limping slightly but it was noticed by the observant autobot as he transformed and sped off, engine rumbling loudly in the distance.
Drift sighed and reached the top of the roofs, sprinting and jumping occasionally when there was a gap between buildings. He watched as one truck became six and they each split up to catch a transformer. Three went his way and the other three drove off to where Cross had gone. Hmm, Cross. He liked that nickname.

An explosion alerted him to his surroundings. Those damn trucks had fired a missle at him and it missed, thankfully, and landed on a garden of flowerpots as it exploded violently. He would have laughed had he not been so caught up in trying to lose the large trucks. Drift breathed out," Focus.. Is a skill only man can conquer if the appropriate concentration is involved." His short poem was ignored while another barrade of bullets assaulted him as he ducked and slid under a balcony. His optics widened, a light was up ahead and that meant a huge space that he would have to get across.
Who ever said he would have to cross it?

A very small grin formed on his faceplates, optics narrowing in anticipation, and the stomps his pedes created sent cracks and broken shingles flying behind him. He prepared himself, then leapt from the side of the last building.

The light instantly changed red, how ironic, as everything seemed to go into a slow-motion. The trucks persuing him rounded the corner sharply, tires squealing on the gravel and dust billowing out from behind them. Drift caught on to the next building by his servos, glass shattering and brick walls collapsing. The sky was tinted with the early morning sunshine and it reflected beautifully off his metal framework. He pushed off the building, saving the rest of the damage and flipped mid-air before transforming into his alt mode. The gravity pulled him down making him crash into the cement. The light changed back to green.
And noise erupted. Cars honked and horns blared loudly into his ears. The sirens were still the loudest of them all and it seemed to leave a dull ache when the black trucks got closer.

He drove at his highest speed. The sirens were fainter the farther he traveled. It brought a sort of success that he had escaped and pulled off that trick. However, he worried for the weapon masters safety. Had he even made it this far? Why was he worried over something like this?

And then the question that gave him chills down his backstrut came into view. What happened to make Crosshairs get those dents? Why did he seem so anxious to leave when all Drift had done was ask an honest question? All these questions that he should have asked. With a spat of his spit, he pursed his dermas together. Oh, he would ask them alright. Not like an annoying little brother. No, but he would get the answers he was looking for. All he needs to do is be more patient and wait for his friend to open up.

But his patience is draining by the second.

Okay, I just remembered. I don't do rape scenes. That's why I just cut the last one off because I was all like, " Nope! Can't do it." And that's why I didn't want to reveal CH's nightmare. This one is shorter than the last one. But I updated. So Drift finds out about the dents but he dosen't know how they got there. Possible Deadlock appearance I see in the future.