The touch gets a flinch, as if Thundercracker was expecting the hand to hurt him. his subconscious was, wound up and braced for it. The softness, the understanding . . . they're too much for the grieving Seeker to take. In a sense, he would have preferred if Megatron had been angry - it would have given him something to fight against. The gentleness is almost cruel. The wall between the last of his control and the maelstrom is as thin as soap film, and his lord's words shatter it. With a staticky keen, he collapses the rest of the way, curling into a winged ball.

"He's gone. He's gone! They tortured and broke him and he was broken and it was my fault and then they took him away and he was gone and my fault too, only it was all just a nightmare, but now it's over, but now he's gone again."

The words spilled out in a confused jumble. He didn't want to think about it, but it's all he can think about, and he just wanted the pain to stop but he didn't know how.