Continued from part 1....
Optics blinking rapidly, she started as she realized that in the few moments that these thoughts had flitted through her processor, she had stopped working, pry-bar frozen in her equally motionless hands.
"Are you...?" Ratchet said softly.
"I'm fine." She insisted, her tone hasty and dismissive. But, of course, she wasn't fine; even Ratchet-as sheltered and naive as he was-could tell at least that much. Thinking about Foray, his mannerisms and the awful requests that he made of her at the bar-to say nothing of what might happen to Ratchet for getting involved-only stoked her anger.
The older medic said nothing. Coincident with his silence was a strange sort of feeling that washed over her spark, almost a sensation of disappointment or sadness that seemed to resonate with her core, and quickly filled her processor.
Io briefly turned her optics so that she could study her mentor's expression. The position of his brow-ridges and the frown that furrowed his style-