Greetings again, from the land of my brain, which presently is probably running so fast, I need to take a suppression pill or something. If you are looking at reading this story, you will not understand it if you haven't read Thirteen Hours and all of the wonderful typo's that plague the pages. This story is a direct result of how the other one ends. A few of my friends have forgotten how to use their own imaginations.
This story is going to follow the same set of requirements as the last one, mainly because I didn't want to deal with trying to change it from one person to another. In addition, I didn't just choose one path, I chose three.
If the writing is in this format, no special additives, then this is reality one. (Keep in mind this is just one of countless ways this story could have gone. We can thank KC for how part of these timelines pan out.) You chose to go back to the Autobots.
If the writing is italicized, like this, then you chose to return home and not have any contact with the Autobots. This is reality two.
Just to make this story harder to follow, I threw in this option. Instead of majoring in Sociology, you chose to listen to your parents and become a doctor, as discussed in the chapter Acceptance in the prior story. If the wording is in bold, this is reality three.
Speaking within a bond is distinguished by "".
I know this will confuse some people out of their living minds because there are three different stories to follow, but I am not sorry I chose this, because it's fun. Just remember these are just three possible outcomes. In the multiverse there are countless others.
Also, this story may seem like it is crawling with OCs. This is not the case. If you recognize a human name from the G1 series, then they were in the G1 series. All mechs with names have a toy they are based on. Check Wikipedia for any unknown character or unknown information.
I will not warn for anything that might seem offensive, since there is no real definition of offensive that fits everyone. You, dear reader, have been warned.
Oh! I don't own – and depending on who you are, no one really owns anything, we're just here borrowing till the next stage of life. : )
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No Real Endings
Fate
There are many speculations as to whether our choosing one event over another is a fluke, or it is meant to be. This being, because no matter what we choose, there is an alternate of ourselves who chooses the other. This is where the multiverse comes in. Parallel happenings that split off when we make said choice and then there are two.
More choices follow and then there are multitudes. For every one person, each decision that we have made has resulted in a split and a brand new time line occurs. An infinite number of realities plowing through space and time together, each the product of a different choice.
Do any of these choices we make result in the same outcome? What if a choice you made long before, in which you are traveling down a completely different path also resulted in the same outcome as the two other choices? Is it fate that you were supposed to end up at the same point, or is it happenstance? Do the realities ever overlap and run together?
What if three choices you had made during the course of your lifetime ended up in the same place, not necessarily at the end in all cases, but in the center. A new beginning because providence wanted you there.
GG GG GG GG GG
"I cannot believe you are still here. Do you ever go home?" You hear from the doorway of your office at the hospital.
"No one there to go home to Debbie. Might as well stay and burn the midnight oil, as they say." You laugh, turning toward your colleague.
"I know you have a lot to do, being the youngest surgeon on the board, but if you die of exhaustion while in the middle of an emergency, there'll be hell to pay."
"I'm fine, I took a nap a few hours ago after the heart attack that came in. It's actually been rather slow tonight." You say, turning back toward your paperwork.
"Well Doctor, you look like shit." Debbie says to you, turning to leave.
You chuckle at her forwardness and continue on with your paperwork. Within seconds of starting to read you hear your name being called, there is a burn victim in the emergency room.
You run out of the office and head down toward trauma room one. Debbie is following closely at your heal. You crash through the door and take in the sight. There is a man who looks like he came out on the losing end of a fire.
The man looks at you as you put your gloves on. You can see the brown eyes through the broken glasses. His face is melted together in various spots and his clothes are torched and pretty much useless.
You start to cut the clothes off the victim. "Sir, do you know your name?" You ask calmly. Years as a surgeon have taught you well.
The man looks at you and speaks in a barely audible whisper. "Chip Chase."
"Well Mr. Chase, you mind telling me what happened?" You say, checking his vitals and ordering O negative blood to start a transfusion.
"I'm A positive, if that helps." Chip whispers to you before passing out.
"Yolanda, get me two pints of A positive." You tell the attending nurse, who runs off to get the blood.
You open Chip's eyes, one at a time, and check for dilation. Then you pull the rest of the tattered clothes from his body.
"What the hell did this guy do, walk into a furnace?" You ask, seeing the melted and blistered skin that covers this poor man's body.
"I can answer that." A voice behind you says.
You don't even look up, you continue working. "Good, what happened? This was no fire."
"You're right, he was shot, point blank, by a disrupter cannon."
For a moment it seems you are hearing things. What the hell is a disrupter cannon? "What?" You finally turn to the one answering the questions. Your eyes get wide. "What in the sam hell are you?"
Whatever it is you are looking at seems to take no offence at your harsh demand. "I am Fixit, part of the Autobot Rescue Patrol."
"I don't have time for this, Debbie, take whatever that is out into the waiting area. I'll be out to answer questions when Mr. Chase here is stable."
For a moment longer you watch as Debbie escorts Fixit out of your ER, then you return to the patient on the table.
GG GG GG GG GG
You sit on the hood of your car watching the traffic go by. This being your first trip to Juneau Alaska for any reason, you are excited to have finally made it to all 50 states. You slowly put your coffee cup to your mouth and take a swig. Even though it's summer, it's still a little cold.
You turn to watch the Canadian Geese start to fly overhead; you almost miss two familiar forms blur past you. For a moment, you just stare at the two cars as they continue on their trip, thoughts taking you back almost a decade. You shake your head, trying to get the ghosts of so long ago to leave.
One last look and you hop off the hood of your car and head into the building where your traveling information kiosk is located. The museum has decided that you and your studies need to do a traveling show, thus you have driven up to Alaska on the final leg of your tour.
"My Primus." You hear, just as your hand touches the door handle. A smile creeps up on your face at the word you haven't heard in years. You slowly turn your head and look at the speaker.
"I haven't heard that word in a long time, but the ones who taught me that word have always been in the back of my mind." You say to Jazz.
"This is like 'n episode o' th' Twilight Zone." Jazz says, walking toward you, like no time has passed.
"How are you Jazz?" You ask, taking your hand away from the door and holding it out in a formal hand gesture.
Jazz clasps your hand and shakes, skepticism showing. "Why din't ya come back?"
The moment at the back of Carly's car flashes in your mind, as you had grabbed your bag and walked into the airport, clutching Wheeljack's first invention. You see in your mind, you boarding the plane and trying to suppress the notion to get up and go back to the Autobots. Once the plane had landed you didn't look back.
"I don't know." You answer truthfully. "I guess it wasn't meant to be."
"What'r y' doin' in Alaska?" Jazz asks.
"The museum has me running a traveling attraction. I'm visiting all over the western hemisphere."
"Sound's important. Ya havin' fun?"
"Fun as can be expected. What are you doing in Alaska, and was that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe I saw barreling down the street a few moments ago?" You ask, pointing in the direction the two had flown by.
"Yeah, they'r probably headin to th' city."
"Which city?" You ask, taking another sip of your coffee.
"Autobot City, s'bout 80 miles east o' here." Jazz says pointing in the general direction.
"You built a city, what about the Ark?"
"You din't keep up on us I see. Did ya even read the e-mails we sent?" You can hear the hurt in Jazz's voice.
For a moment a few of the messages flash in your mind. You have them saved on your hard drive and in your e-mail account, all of them.
"I did." You say, looking at the ground. You feel like dirt right now.
"Mind tellin me why ya din't see fit ta answer?"
You can feel tears in your eyes and you're not sure if it's the air stinging them or if some repression is finally coming forward. "I have no excuse, I'm an ass." You say, not looking up.
Jazz regards you for a moment, making the silence become rather uncomfortable. "I think ya should come with me. There'r a few who you should at least talk to who were rather upset when ya left and din't bother ta even remain 'n contact. Ya owe 'em that much."
You look at the building you were going to enter. There are people in there waiting for you to assist them. You then look at Jazz. There are people who you treated like so much sand on the ground who deserve to hear from you why you didn't stay in touch.
You walk over to the garbage can and throw away your cup. "I owe those who don't want to use me for target practice an explanation." Jazz transforms and you get in.
GG GG GG GG GG
"Phaser, there's an Autobot here for you." Geiza says to you from the doorway to your hut.
"Good, tell them to go away." You say while feeding the child you are watching.
"This one seems kind of insistent."
"Geiza, I really don't want to see anyone whom originated from the planet Cybertron now, or ever." You eye the girl with pleading in your optics.
"Says they've been looking for you for a while." You can tell from the girl's voice that she is scared to go back and tell whoever is knocking on your door. Of course she should be. G'Roythians are shorter than humans, so Cybertronians must seem enormous to the girl.
"I doubt they're going to hurt you if you tell them I died or something." You say, spooning some mashed vegetable into the mouth of the baby.
Geiza's eyes get wide. "You want me to tell a falsity?" If you could you'd roll your optics, but Cybertronians don't have the ability to roll their optics and when you gave up your life as a human to become a Cybertronian, you gave up that particular ability too.
"No Geiza, I don't want you to tell a falsity. I'm coming." You stand up and pick up the tiny child, no bigger than a tiny monkey, and walk outside of your hut with the two of them.
Geiza runs forward and flags down someone you immediately recognize. "I told you I knew where Phaser was!" She happily tells the Autobot.
You cup the child to your chest and walk forward, looking up at Bluestreak. Even though you had given up your human form in exchange for a living metal body and a spark, you remain the same size as you were when you were human.
Bluestreak looks at you for a moment, then smiles. "You sure know how to disappear Phaser."
"What do you want?" You snap, causing Geiza to run toward her parents.
"Still as irritable as the last time I saw you." Bluestreak says, trying to stay cheerful.
"What do you want Bluestreak, can't you people leave me alone?" You spit out, causing the baby to start whimpering.
"Is that your creation?" Bluestreak asks, looking at the child.
"Sesch anuka greta paiuch." You say to the child, who calms down and curls up into a ball in your arms.
"What language was that?" Bluestreak asks with wonder.
"Savianon, the archaic language from this world. They use it as a way to calm their offspring down. And no, she is not mine, I'm watching her."
"You should have stayed on Cybertron and made a creation. They would have been lucky to have you as a creator." Bluestreak kneels down in front of you.
"Cut the sentimental bull Bluestreak, what are you doing here?" You ask, handing the child off to one of the natives who has come out to see the new creature.
Bluestreak looks sullen for a moment, then says, "Optimus wants you to come back to Cybertron. We need you."
"Well good for Optimus. None of you needed me before, what do you need me for now?" You say, then you pause. "I thought Optimus died."
"Optimus was resurrected." Bluestreak says.
For a moment you dare to hope. "Was anyone else resurrected?"
"Sorry Phaser, not only was Wheeljack not resurrected, but the body was destroyed."
That fleeting hope vanishes faster than a fart in the wind. "Then what the fuck do you want me for. Can't you people leave me in peace?"
Bluestreak stands up fast, causing the G'Roythians to scatter. "Do you think Wheeljack really wants you to run away to some distant planet and brood when you could be living and rebuilding the dreams of our planet?"
"I don't think Wheeljack really cares anymore Bluestreak." You snarl. "Wheeljack is dead."
Bluestreak stares at you in stunned silence for a minute, processors whirring. Then kneels in front of you again, turning you around and looking into your optics. "Wheeljack may be dead, but you're not. You're the reason I was able to grow up. You helped me, let me help you."
You glare at Bluestreak, wanting so much to put the past to rest, but not able to. "I'll come with you, but not because I want to, because whatever planet you fools touch brings despair to its people. I don't want the people of G'Roythia brought into your foolhardy war."
You wrench your arms free from Bluestreak's grasp and walk toward your hut to gather the one thing you've carried with you for almost a decade: Wheeljack's first invention.
GG GG GG GG GG
You watch as the scenery flies by from the inside of Jazz. Within twenty minutes of you disappearing from your job, your cell phone rings.
"Yeah." You answer, hearing Jazz chuckle slightly.
"I've got reports that you just up and leave." Your boss says to you. "What gives?"
"I'm sorry John, I needed to take care of something that should have been dealt with years ago. I'm too much of a coward." You can feel Jazz shake slightly at the put down on yourself.
"Are you in some sort of trouble? This doesn't have to do with Kelsey and the kids does it?"
"No, my ex hasn't bothered me in years and the kids barely even know I'm alive." You say into the phone. "This is me trying to put the past behind me."
"I'll put you down for a couple weeks sick time, but that's about as much as I can get you before people start asking questions."
"Thanks John, I appreciate it." You hang up the phone and resume looking out the window.
"You went and got yourself married?" Jazz asks after a few moments of silence.
"Married and divorced. Took everything, including our kids. It was a good thing I had started the tour or I would have been living out of my car." You say, pushing further back into the seat.
"What happened, between ya an' th' ex I mean?"
"A really messy divorce. I haven't been allowed to see our kids in over two years. That's what happens when you have better lawyers than I did." You take out your phone and look at the last picture of your kid you had taken. Both of them were smiling and so happy.
"What happened?" Jazz asks again, softly, urging you to talk about it.
"Kelsey claimed that I was in love with someone else the entire length of our marriage. Got proof when I started talking in my sleep and calling out the same name over and over again." You glance one more time at the picture and stick the phone into your pocket. "The evidence was used and the judge ruled against me on the grounds that I broke my vows. Didn't find out until later that the judge was golfing partners with Kelsey's father. Because I was a jerk, I lost everything." You say spitefully.
"Ya could've let us know. We happen ta be pretty good at legal matters." Jazz tells you sadly.
"What's done is done. Kelsey went and got married again and I get to see my kids when they turn eighteen, if they want to see me."
"That's one hell of a divorce agreement."
"It wasn't an agreement. I was stupid enough to think I would be dealt with fairly. Because the back of my mind is stuck on someone else, I lose everything. Talk about karma." You turn and face the steering wheel.
"Who were ya callin out?" Jazz says, turning off the main road and onto a back road into the mountains.
"If you can believe it, I was calling for Wheeljack."
GG GG GG GG GG
"Hello Cosmos, it's been a long time." You say as you and Bluestreak enter Cosmos and take off.
"Phaser, I can't believe we actually found you on this backward planet. In human measurements, we've been searching for you for months." Cosmos says, console lights flickering.
"I didn't want to be found." You say, sitting on the floor in an out of the way area. Bluestreak sits down next to you. "I'd ask you to drop me off at the next asteroid belt, but I assume that won't be happening."
"We can't let you go, Optimus's orders." Bluestreak states, as if it was something that you should have known. It was.
"Don't tell me the noble Autobots have started to detain civilians." You scoff, clutching Wheeljack's invention to your chassis.
"You kinda went AWOL."
"That's a human military term and one I know for fact that didn't exist in your vocabulary until you arrived on Earth, so don't pull that with me." You snap.
"Take it easy in there." Cosmos warns. "I'm not designed to have my internals used as a sparing grounds."
"Relax Cosmos, I'm not gonna fight with anyone." You say, then turn toward Bluestreak. "Besides, Blue here could pull me apart and pop off my head." No humor is in your voice, both Autobots realize you aren't joking.
"I would never do that to you Phaser." Bluestreak says softly, voice full of hurt. This makes you feel awful and you put a hand on Blue's leg.
"I know you wouldn't hurt me or anyone else, unless you were forced to Blue." You sigh, leaning against the wall.
Silence engulfs the three of you as Cosmos speeds through the vastness of space. You know it will probably take quite a while before you reach Cybertron, so you close your eyes and let yourself slip into recharge.
GG GG GG GG GG
It takes almost an hour to get Chip out of the woods before the burn unit team comes to collect him to start with skin grafts. You take a few minutes to breathe and get some fluid into your already dehydrating system. Then you head out to the waiting room to see if there is anyone to let know about Chip's prognosis.
You walk toward the window and stop and stare. Not only is that Fixit character present, but there are three other, whatevers, of the same human height in the room as well. In addition to them, there are a couple more, who appear to be of the same design, but who appear to be quite a few feet higher.
Shaking your head, you decide to enter the room. Within a few seconds there are half a dozen pairs of eyes staring at you.
"Well?" One of the creatures asks.
"Chip'll be fine, but it will be a long recovery process. There are still quite a few complications, but he's out of the woods for the moment." You say, slightly worried at what these might do to you and the staff.
Fixit comes forward. "Can we take him back to Autobot City?"
"Auto-what?" You ask, confused.
"I think we're better equipped to handle Chip. We are quite a bit more intelligent than you and First Aid knows what to do."
You step back from the red colored being who is berating your staff. "As there seem to be no actual humans present, I don't have to do anything. None of you, whatever you are, are his family, you couldn't be."
"I don't see how you plan on stopping us." One of the taller ones says, standing to full height and causing you to crash into the wall behind you.
"Stand down Blades." You hear a voice from behind you. A man steps into the room and eyes the six creatures.
"Spike we don't have time to cater to human doctors. There are Decepticons out there we need to stop." The one called Blades tells the man.
You throw up your hands in the air, causing all seven pairs of eyes to look at you. "I don't know what you are," You say, pointing to the creatures, "But someone better tell me what the hell is going on before I have you all thrown out."
The other taller being laughs at your sudden outburst. "Man, you're worse than Ratchet in a bad mood when the mech was still around."
You glare at the being before turning toward the man. "Spike? Right?" The man nods. "What are those?" You point toward the beings.
"They're Autobots, specifically from the Rescue Patrol and the other two are Blades and Streetwise from the Protectobots." Spike answers you like it's no big deal.
"What the hell are you talking about?" You eye the six Autobots warily.
"They're not going to hurt you. They were working with a few of the other Autobots on the flood that happened over in Hazard County and we ran into some Decepticons who decided to light a fire under our afts and that's how Fixit ended up bringing Chip here."
"Deceptibots, Autocons, what is this, some sort of television practical joke?" You say, looking for the cameras.
"You've never heard of the Autobots or the Decepticons?" A blue, red and gray colored Autobot asks you.
"No, I don't pay attention to the news, all that's ever reported is bad news anyway." You say, still wary of your guests.
"Well surgeon," the smaller red one asks, voice full of contempt. "How is it that you are smart enough to be a surgeon, but dumb enough not to stay up on current events?"
"Stand down Red Hot." The one called Streetwise warns.
"You can't expect some human, with no knowledge of us or our cause, to assist in fixing someone who's been injured with a disrupter cannon. There are things that we can do that they obviously can't." Red Hot says, glaring daggers at you.
You walk right up to Red Hot and speak, acid in your tone. "I may not know who you are, but I am plenty prepared for whatever comes through that doorway."
As if karma has it in for you, the doorway is blown open and you see a green military tank and a blue military tank in the doorway. You back up and are immediately pushed behind Streetwise and Blades.
To make matters even stranger, the two military vehicles start to shrink in size and turn into human sized robots, not unlike the four beings of the Rescue Patrol. Two more show up behind the green and blue creatures.
The green one holds up some sort of gun looking thing and shoots the ceiling down around you and the Autobots. You are covered and manage to not get hurt as bits of ceiling crash into Streetwise.
"Wonder what Prime'll pay to get these back." You hear the blue one sneer at the Autobots, who have positioned themselves in front of the doorway and the rest of the ER. You can see the staff either hiding behind door jams, or walking along hallways to get out of one of the other exits.
"There is nothing in this hospital for you Bombshock, leave the area peacefully." Streetwise says calmly.
You peer around Blades's leg and look at the four new arrivals.
"If you had an ounce of intelligence in that CPU of yours Streetwise, you'd have realized by now, we take no prisoners. Prime'll pay well for your sparkless bodies once we're through with you." The one called Bombshock answers.
The blue one looks at Bombshock for a moment before speaking. "No, we leave them alive to do our bidding."
You eye the two of them for a moment as they size each other up. For a moment you are so transfixed, you don't feel a hand grab you and start to pull you out the back door.
You look over at Fixit, who is motioning for you to be silent. You can't. "What the hell this, who are they?" You whisper fiercely.
"Quiet." Fixit says softly. "They're the Decepticon Military Patrol. We need you to gather all the patients you can and get them out of here."
"What are they doing at my hospital?" You hiss, halting your movements, intent on getting some answers.
"They're probably after us."
"You mean to tell me, you knew the likes of those things are out there and still you go somewhere they will inevitably follow." You ask with a dangerous tone.
Fixit looks at you with pleading eyes. "I really need you to go, we can answer any questions you have later." You glance over at the Military Patrol, who seem to be arguing with one another over what to do with the ones in your waiting room.
"I'm not going anywhere until someone answers some fucking questions." You snap.
"You!" A tan colored Decepticon says, causing you and Fixit to look toward the four who blew a hole through the door.
You don't have time to react before you feel yourself engulfed in heat and the last thing you hear is someone shouting, "Watch out!"
GG GG GG GG GG
"That's pretty messed up there kid, callin for old 'Jack after knowing the mech for less than a day." Jazz says to you evenly.
"Don't ask me why my subconscious decided to become infatuated with someone I had barely any time with. Probably had something to do with Wheeljack making one of my dreams into a reality. I was just a kid at the time. Hero worship and all that." You say, praying this is over soon.
"'Jack did mention flying with ya once before leaving a few years back. Mech did a good job of hiding th' hurt at your not responding to th' e-mails. Actually took it harder than Blue did, which surprised everyone."
"It's not like I made much of a difference in any of your lives. I was curious. No one should have actually expected me to remain in contact. That was the end of one segment and the beginning of another." You say, although you know immediately how foolish the answer is.
"No one is so good they should throw away any friends and I know ya know that." Jazz states with an indifferent tone. "Besides…" The friendly, upbeat, tone you remember reappears. "There are no real endings an' consequently, no real beginnings."
You immediately want to roll your eyes. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea." You say, sounding like a spoiled brat.
"Listen ta me kid and listen carefully." Jazz commands. "Th' fact that ya decided ta act like an ass all those years ago was your choice. The fact that ya ignored our contact was rude. This hiding is cowardice. Is this how ya want to live out the rest o' your life?"
"You shouldn't talk like you know anything about my life Jazz. You weren't there when I was growing up. You don't know what it's like."
"Now you're sounding like a whiny child. Grow up a little an' take some responsibility. Ya may be in charge o' your little museum exhibit, butyou're now acting more like a kid than ya were when ya visited th' Ark."
"Why should I grow up, no one else does?" You scoff, pushing yourself further into the seat.
Jazz sighs. "Be th' better being. Ya can't take back th' past, but ya can, at least, make amends for yourself. If ya decide ta leave after that, then by all means, but show some backbone."
You close your eyes as Jazz puts on some Beethoven, a subtle reminder of the fun the two of you had had almost a decade ago.