This story was inspired by a friend of mine even though this is a fictionalized story. There are way too many times in which this has happened, so the characters may seem a little OOC.

I don't own the "Transformers". I chose this character because he was always my favorite when I was a kid.

/GG/

Those Who Could be Saved

1985

It was a particularly nasty crash from what he could tell as he moved through the trees to see the extent of the damage. What was worse was the time frame in which the crash occurred. He had picked up a faint life sign while doing some routine testing on his new gadgets and decided to investigate. From initial scans he could tell there was one living and three dead. The dead had departed at least three days prior.

He wondered how the humans hadn't seen this or at least been looking for this group. Didn't people tend to worry if their own were missing and file some sort of report? He would have to ask Prowl when he returned, but for the moment the only thing he wanted to concentrate on was the lone life sign in the wreckage.

Wheeljack moved through the trees and made his way toward the tiny airplane that had crashed to the ground. It was so small he actually wondered if it was a plane at all, but the design was unmistakable.

There was no indication of fire damage to the surrounding nature, just a pile of broken branches. He could see the plane, stuck about six feet off the ground, in the downward position. There were outlines of two humans hanging from the front of the plane. There was a smaller heat signature in the back of the plane, also hanging limply.

This one was still alive though, or it wouldn't have been emitting heat. The mech moved the door away from the rickety exterior of the damaged plane and looked inside. There was another child hanging next to the live one. That one obviously dead.

The live child was in a state of sleep, breathing erratic and slowing by the second. Its temperature was also dropping slowly. Not anything that we as humans would be able to tell, but a mech had the ability.

He was almost worried to touch the plane with his hands for fear of making it plummet the rest of the way and kill the child. There wasn't much of a choice though, so he reached in, grabbed the seat the child was fastened to and yanked it out of the plane in one smooth motion. The plane did end up crashing the rest of the way to the Earth and he could hear the sickening crunch of bones as the two older humans were crushed by the weight.

It took a moment to move to a place not affected by the crash; then he looked at the seat he carried in his hand. He turned it over onto its back so the child wasn't being crushed by her own weight. The breathing returned to normal as her lungs weren't being restricted anymore.

A quick scan of the child indicated she had at least twelve broken bones throughout her tiny body. The pain must have been unbearable after the crash and to have to suffer it alone must have been just as bad, if not worse.

The hospital was where this child belonged. Wheeljack didn't want to take any chances in this girl dying because of his help.

She opened her eyes and looked at him for a moment.

"Are mom and dad dead?" She choked.

"Yes." There was no emotion in his voice.

"Is Shelby dead?"

"Yes."

"Are you an angel?"

"No."

"Am I going to heaven now?"

Wheeljack didn't get to answer that question as she passed out again from the strain. He took to the air and flew her to the nearest hospital.

/GG/

1989

The years passed by as they usually do, though Wheeljack didn't actually see her during those passing years. He had kept up on her through various sources, mostly out of pure curiosity.

Her name was April. She had been sent to a foster home a few months after he had dropped her off at the hospital. There was no permanent physical damage to the child, but she did suffer from post traumatic stress syndrome.

The home she had been sent to was almost at capacity, but no one wanted a child with her special needs. She had been hospitalized six times during the first year from hallucinations and outbursts. The time spent in the hospital did wind down and she hadn't been to the hospital in almost a year by the second time Wheeljack ran into her.

For a moment he actually wondered if he was even looking at the same child he had saved all those years ago. He had grown at least two feet and was rather lanky. Her record had said she was seven when he saved her; by now she would have been eleven.

The girl was standing next to an alley, handing out bags of something to a number of younger kids. A quick scan of the substance showed it to be marijuana; a substance she shouldn't be giving to anyone.

An older boy walked by her and leaned against the wall where she was standing; whispering something into her ear.

Normally Wheeljack would leave well enough alone, but his concern for the girl caused him to eavesdrop.

"Get them while they're young, hook them and you'll have customers for life." The boy said.

"That's what you did to me." She answered, handing a bag to the tiny girl in front of her. She picked a roach out of her pocket and lit it, taking a long breath; then handed it to the kids who were all looking at their bags curiously.

"Take a haul." She said.

Each of the kids took a turn, most coughing and sputtering.

"It'll get easier, trust me." She said.

Her eyes turned glassy as she took another puff and handed it out to the kids again. All but one of them took another turn.

"This feels funny." One of the kids said, handing the roach to another.

"I feel sick." A different one said.

If Wheeljack had had a stomach it would have done a back flip. This was just sick. How had that sweet child, who had called him an angel, turned into a dealer before she could drive?

He honked his horn, effectively scattering the children in various directions. The girl and the boy stayed where they were.

"You know that guy April?"

The girl looked quizzically at Wheeljack, who was ready to transform out of his alternate mode and give a good ass chewing to both of them.

"The color of that car looks really familiar. I'll meet you back at home."

The guy laughed. "Don't start hookering yourself yet. A lot of guys will pay good money to sleep with an actual virgin."

She flipped him off and walked toward Wheeljack.

Wheeljack opened his door for her, not expecting her to get inside. What he did expect was a scream and her running away, but she slid into the passenger seat.

"You're one of those giant robot things aren't you?" She asked.

"Yes." Came a stone cold reply.

"Cool."

"Do you remember me taking you to the hospital after you and your family crashed?"

Wheeljack started driving because the look the boy was giving him actually gave him a creepy feeling.

"I thought your colors looked familiar. I had no idea what you were at the time and the hospital told me I was hallucinating. A giant robot didn't save me and bring me to the emergency room door. What's your name?"

"Wheeljack."

April leaned back into the seat, took out another joint and lit up.

"Put that out."

"Testy, aren't we?"

Jack wasn't in the mood. "What are you doing that to yourself? You got a second chance and you're ruining it."

"Don't go trying to be my father. If you had actually cared, you would have taken me with you instead of sending me to a bunch of strangers."

One thing he noticed was her very grown up attitude. She had grown up quickly and skipped being a kid all together.

There wasn't anything he could say to her comment either. She was right, in part. If he had cared, he would have come back sooner rather then just leave and run into her all those years later. One thing she did need though was a friend.

"Do you need help?"

He couldn't think of anything else to ask. Spike had never had this kind of problem; neither did Carly. What did someone do when they were worried about someone else's future? He didn't know.

Talk to someone seemed like the most logical idea, but who would listen to him about one girl when so many out there were going through the same thing she was.

"Let me out." She said as he drove along the highway.

"This is the middle of the highway, where are you going to go."

"Home." She stated simply. "I don't belong with you."

Truer words were never spoken, so Wheeljack let her out. He would speak to Prime later on about some sort of program he could recommend to her foster parents. The girl needed help, but he wasn't going to force it on her.

He watched as she cut through the lanes of traffic and hopped over the fence and into the gully. There was nothing he could do for her, but the humans could.

/GG/

1992

"Wheeljack!"

Jack heard his name being called while he was in his lab.

"Primus." He hissed as his newest invention started smoking, indicating an explosion was on its way.

He jumped out of the room and landed in the hallway, effectively knocking Prowl over in the process.

"What..?"

Prowl didn't get anything more out before the hallway was covered in smoke and debris from Wheeljack's lab.

"Never mind." The mech stated. He stood up and walked off without so much as another word.

Wheeljack looked over toward the sound of his name being called. It was Ratchet, buy the intonations, and it sounded rather urgent.

Ratchet stuck his head around the corner and started to laugh at the poor inventor, sitting on the ground and covered in ash.

"I'm not going to ask." Ratchet snickered. "You have a visitor though. A Mr. Bruce is in Prime's office. Something about a drug program."

Over two years and someone finally came in to see him. That was slow.

Wheeljack stood up and made his way to Prime's office. There was a man sitting on a chair on the desk, bantering away with Prime like the two were old friends. He knocked and entered, walking toward the desk like a mech with a mission.

"Wheeljack, Mr. Bruce is here because of someone you know, I believe her name is April."

The way Prime said the name made his spark skip a beat.

"Yes, I was the one who took her to the hospital after I found her plane down."

Mr. Bruce stood up and motioned for Wheeljack to come closer to the deck.

"We'd been working on a hotline for teens and kids addicted to anything for a while now. I met with a girl in the hospital who mentioned your name. There was a memo from a while back from you about such a program."

Wheeljack looked at the man; head cocked to one side.

"What's she in the hospital for?"

"April?" The man asked.

Jack nodded.

"That kid's gone through more in her fourteen years then most adults go through in a lifetime. She's in the pediatric ward right now. She contracted AIDS from somewhere and is dying."

This news caused the energy in Wheeljack's chassis to drain quickly.

"She's dying?"

"Unfortunately. She mentioned you had saved her and even tried to 'rescue' her from herself a few years ago. With cases like this though, you've got to be persistent. Kids on drugs don't really see the danger they put themselves or others in."

"Can I see her?"

In all those years, Jack hadn't really spoken to anyone about what he had seen or what he could have done. If he had spoken up, then maybe she would have been okay.

Mr. Bruce looked at Wheeljack for a moment before nodding his approval.

"I do need your permission for her to tell her story. You are in her recount and we would like to use you as an example of what not to do when you run across a friend who needs your help."

"I don't need to tell you how this could have gone differently Wheeljack." Prime said, sadly.

"No sir. You don't."

/GG/

Wheeljack was taken to the hospital where April was staying so he could see her. She looked even lankier then before; splotches sporadically dotting her skin. She smiled when she saw him at the window.

"I had always wondered if you were real." She said as she slowly walked to the open air.

"Not real enough apparently." Wheeljack said; a hitch in his vocalizer.

"Don't blame yourself. It was my fault I ended up this way." She said with a wheeze.

"It was my fault for not speaking up and just letting you go."

"Don't let yourself feel that way. Yes, we both made mistakes, but you can go on telling everyone how they can help. Don't let someone else make the same mistakes we made."

April put her hand out to touch Wheeljack's metal face.

"I don't blame you." She said softly.

/GG/

1995

Wheeljack had allowed his part of the story to be added to April's recount. Then she spent a year touring the country and telling her story.

How she had been given her first joint when she was eight at the foster home. How she was addicted to other narcotics by the time she was ten. How she became a dealer at eleven and started hooking kids as young as four.

When she was thirteen she had unprotected sex with a man who had given her HIV, which became AIDS before the year was out.

April didn't want other kids to go through the same thing. She stressed how people tend to think others will handle it; others will take care of it. You don't want to wait for someone else to step up to the plate. Handle it yourself and if you can't, then find someone who can. There is someone available.

Wheeljack met her in a few of the larger cities, along with a number of his fellow Autobots to tell his side of the story. No one can tell the future and no one can change the past, but he was sure as hell going to try to change the future for those who could be saved.

She died in the beginning of the second leg of her tour. Wheeljack had watched her being lowered into the ground at the cemetery in Oregon. He had to keep telling his processor not to blame himself for everything that had happened to her.

Occasionally he would wonder if he had just left her to die, would that have been better?

/GG/

I dedicate this story to all of those who have gone through a situation similar to this. Whether you be on the side of April or Wheeljack. I especially dedicate this to Brea, who after too many years, finally succumbed to AIDS and let herself be taken into eternity. Without her bravery, we wouldn't have been able to save the lives of those that followed in her footsteps.

If you know someone who is heading down this path, don't wait. Let someone else know what's happening.