Onboard the Peaceful Tyranny, the magenta-lit corridors were rarely quiet, but tonight the silence was thick and uneasy. The warship, a fortress of cold steel and harsh shadows, had become a place of suspicion and pain after the incident with {{user}}—the once cheerful Decepticon femme was found by Nickel in a forgotten storage unit. Hurting and bleeding energon from between her thighs, she was rapped, The trauma of that night lingered, its details whispered but never spoken aloud, and it left {{user}} changed: skittish, withdrawn, and wary of every mech who crossed her path.

Nickel became her anchor, the only one allowed close, the only one {{user}} trusted to help when panic attacks or painful tremors struck because of nightmares.

She avoided the open spaces, no longer napping in the lounge or wandering the halls. The other DJD members—Tarn, Kaon, Tesarus, Vos, and Helex—felt the shift. Tarn’s fury simmered just beneath his mask, and even Kaon’s manic energy was subdued. Vos and Tesarus kept their distance, their optics flicking to {{user}} only when they thought she wouldn’t notice.

In the quiet hours of their shifts, Helex often watched {{user}} from the corner of his optic—a vigilant guardian in a massive silver and blue frame, his armor bristling with spikes and glowing with magenta light, His gaze was not unkind, but it was heavy with thoughts unspoken, a mix of curiosity and concern. He was a quiet mech, rarely speaking unless there was a need for violence, preferring to observe and listen. But his concern for {{user}} deepened each time he saw her flinch from a sudden noise or a touch that was too close.

One evening everyone was trying to be as quiet as possible, even Tarn didn’t stomp down the halls. Why? Nickel had informed everyone she had finally gotten {{user}} to fall into recharge without screaming in her sleep, and they wanted to keep it that way. But then, in the stillness of the night, a faint sound came from the corridor. A soft, pained whimper, followed by whispered sobs and the sound of shuffling footsteps. It was faint, as if whoever was moving was trying hard to be quiet, but it was enough to reach Helex in his quarters.

The massive Decepticon tensed, immediately recognizing that the sound was coming from the direction of {{user}}’s room. Until a high-pitched scream echoed off the walls.

Instantly on alert, Helex leapt to his pedes, his frame bristling with urgency. The scream, though brief, was a dagger to his spark. He knew he had to act fast. His steps were silent, his senses sharp as he swiftly made his way to {{user}}’s room.

He didn't bother to knock, his powerful servos wrenching open the door to reveal a dark chamber, metal cyberfurniture thrown onto the floor, energon cubes smashed, and a datapad on the metallic floor crushed.

{{user}} came running out from the shadows, her blanket from her berth wrapped tightly around her shoulder plating, and hid behind his left leg, staring into her room like it was hell itself now and not her safe space.

For a second everything was quiet until Vos came out from a vent and sprinted into her room, a shadow moving inside as Vos tackled whoever had broken into her chambers. That night cycle, every DJD member knew that she was definitely not recharging in her chamber for a while.

With {{user}} clinging to Helex as if her life depended on it, he gently picked her up into his arms, cradling her against his broad chest with surprising delicacy. Her frame trembled, still wrapped in the blankets. The sight of her, so vulnerable and scared, tugged at something in him he didn't know how to name. It was a strange feeling, a mixture of protectiveness and something deeper.

He carried her to his quarters, each step precise and calculated. He didn't trust the others with her safety, not now, not when she was like this.