Hey all! So, this is the second arc of the Feeling Series done through RP with Darkeyes 17! Big round of applause for her! She's GREAT and alot of fun to RP with! So all you first time readers know, the First arc with Twins/Ratchet is completed and the three oneshots can be found on her profile ^^ Check them out for these to make sense!
Wow can't believe this turned out so long.
Read and review please!
Feeling Wanted
"There!" Wheeljack whooped, pulling away his tools with gusto as he presented the new invention to a recently recovered Ratchet. Sideswipe was entertaining the triplet sparklings today, allowing Ratchet to get somework done. And the first order of business had been to drag his friend to refuel. He had just walked in the door to suddenly have a bouncing and enthusiastic inventor in his faceplates and holding some sort of... ball like thing. He eyed it warily.
"That thing isn't going to explode in my face is it?"
Wheeljack snorted, but his optics twinkled with excitement. "Not this time, Ratch!" He tossed it in the air as if to prove it. "This is 99.9% guaranteed to only explode when it come into contact with soil."
"So the 0.1% that it willexplode before coming into contact with organic material pretty much guarantees that I will rebuilding your sorry chassis in the next cycle or so."
The CME frowned at that. "C'mon Ratchet. I'm not that bad! I just get unlucky alot."
"And grin all the while." His friend sighed, still eyeing the bouncing bomb in his friend's servos. "Could you please put that down?"
Wheeljack sighed and placed it down. "You're no fun," the inventor whined playfully, helm flanges lighting a lighter blue.
"My bondmates are having enough fun that I don't need to be," Ratchet retorted, although he smirked at his oldest friend.
The Lancia chuckled and asked, "So how are the triplets? Getting on well with each other and your hellions?"
A softer smile came over Ratchet's face as he thought on the two little mechs and the femme he now had. "They are already causing trouble. A few days ago they found Sunny's pot of blue paint and decided to finger paint all over their father's chassis. Sunny wasn't happy at first, but he praised Brightspark because he said she's a painter already. Although if you ask me, her finger paintings weren't too much different from Jumpstart's or Speedlight's. And for some odd reason, they really like Prowl. They keep escaping and hiding in his office. It's fascinating, really, to see them develop into their own individual selves. Speedlight's the chattiest. Beeps and clicks far more than the younger ones," Ratchet said, warmth in his tone as he spoke of his offspring.
Wheeljack smiled right along with his friend, although his smile had a much more subdued edge to it. He was thankful that the blastmask prevented Ratchet from seeing that. "And Jumpstart? He still having that static-fuzz problem when he chirps?"
"Not so much anymore, no. Sideswipe just says it proved that we chose the right name." Ratchet shrugged. "Now I need to take care of a bigger sparkling at the moment." He pinched one of Wheeljack's vocal indicators between his forefinger and thumb, the said appendage lighting an indignant bright green, before proceeding to drag his friend forcefully from his lab. "You forgot to refuel. In two days."
Wheeljack stumbled along behind him, tugging at Ratchet's digits to get him to let go. He didn't much appreciate being dragged around by such sensitive equipment. "Ow! Slaggit all, Ratch, leggo!"
"No way. I'll pull rank and even get Prime to sign an order for me to sit on you while I get the energon down to your tanks. It's either that or I feed you like a sparkling," Ratchet said flatly, ignoring the protesting engineer's struggles.
"Pit Ratch, don't use your carrier instincts on me!" Wheeljack whined, trying to get the medic to loosen his grip but found the task futile.
"I'll do-" Ratchet began to retort, but was cut off by a comm. from his loyal aprentice, First Aid.
:: Hey Ratchet, Cliffjumper got blasted by Sunstreaker while they were on patrol. I need you here, Cliffjumper's going nuts! ::
:: What happened? :: the CMO growled over the link. Why would Sunstreaker...
:: Apparently Cliffjumper called your triplet's incest concieved little pit-spawns .:: First Aid replied in a small voice.
Silence over the comm. lines.
And then.
"WHAT! That's it, that little red fragger is mine!" yelled Ratchet, both aloud and over the comm link, making Wheeljack and First Aid wince. Glancing around hurridly and spotting the only other mech in the hallway, he dragged the mostly gray mech over to Wheeljack and said lowly, "Get Wheeljack a ration of energon, before I explode with anger."
Bluestreak nodded hurridly, not wanting the irate Ratchet on his case.
With a firm nod, the medic left, spewing a lucrative blend of curses on his way to the medbay.
Wheeljack stared after his friend until his backplates turned the corner and he was gone, gingerly rubbing at the sensitive indicator. He sighed audibly when he caught Bluestreak's absolutely confounded look the slightly taller mech was directing at him. "Sorry 'bout that Blue. You don't have to do anything. Ratchet's being a grump..."
Bluestreak seemed to consider it for a moment before he smiled brightly. "Not at all, 'Jack! I was just headed taht way myself! They're playing a new movie today. Something about two kids whose parents are spies and they have to save them from this weird show guy who makes toys as well."
Wheeljack chuckled, lights going an amused pink. "I think the movies called 'Spy Kids', Blue. I heard about that. Come on then!" He smacked Bluestreak's shoulder playfully. "Better get moving. I don't want to get you into trouble with the Hatchet."
They turned to go their own way down the hall, Wheeljack listening to the gunner's near constant stream of chatter about completely non-related things. While most mechs found it irritating or exasperating, the engineer had always found it comforting to some degree. If the gunner was chatting and gesturing, it meant he was happy. And damn did it just twist his spark when the kid wasn't.
After all, most, if not all, of the mechs on the Ark knew that the reason behind the young gunner's chatter was trauma from the destruction of his hometown, Praxus.
So Wheeljack listened attentively, occassionally inputting his own opinion or chuckling at a random piece of gossip.
They reached the rec-room, the movie already playing and were mechs chattering or sipping from their own cubes of energon as they watched the action unfold on the screen. There was a light, happy atmosphere in the room, and it made Bluestreak grin and talk even more as he and Wheeljack walked to the dispenser. Taking a cube for Wheeljack, and then himself, Bluestreak handed it over, an unnoticeable blush on his faceplates as the engineer's fingertips brushed with his own as the cube was taken.
Thankfully, Wheeljack didn't seem to notice. He was happily drinking his cube, glad that he had perked up, and was watching the movie. His optics and helm fins gleamed as he saw the nifty little gadgets that the children on the screen were using, and his processor immediately began to churn with ideas.
"Oh wow, the movie has a lot of special effects," Bluestreak wondered aloud.
"Hmmm..." Wheeljack hummed thoughtfully, taking his own cube and drinking through a mall gap he had opened in his mask. He still didn't feel all too comfortable with showing his faceplates.
He rubbed at the side of his helm in thought. Far from popular belief, the engineer was far from ugly or scarred. Well, he had a small scar running across his cheek that he had never bothered to get fixed, but really, it wasn't horribly disfiguring or anything. Wheeljack had... a past. Like any other mech. Although he would be the first to point put the the reason for the mask itself was null and void now.
"... and then, if you really think about it, is it really possible for humans to just stop like that in mid air on jetpacks like that?" Bluestreak was saying, his optics intent on the very scene he was asking about.
"Oh will you just WATCH it!" Someone groaned. It sounded suspiciously like Huffer and the glare that Bumblebee shot to his left proved it to the inventor.
Bluestreak fell silent, his doorwings sticking out straight as he almost noticeably shrank in on himself. Wheeljack frowned, shot his own glare in the minibot's direction and closed up his mask completely before nudging the downcast Bluestreak. "Come on." He said quietly. "We can talk about it in my lab. I'm kinda curious about it too."
The light that lit up the gunner's optics brought a small smile to Wheeljack's faceplates and he stood, depositing his still half full cube into his subspace.
As they walked, Wheeljack found himself grinning as he remembered his invention he had been trying to show Ratchet earlier. Maybe he could show Bluestreak and get him to comment on it. It may also take the gunner's mind off...whatever he was thinking of. All the CME knew was that Bluestreak was now quiet, not talking at all, even though his optics were lit up in a happy glow. The signals clashed and were slightly confusing, making Wheeljack a little wary.
Stepping into the lab, the mostly white mech mentioned for Bluestreak to follow him, scooping up the ball-bomb from his workbench and showing it off proudly.
"Speaking of spies, I made this new bomb. See, the thing is we fight outside a lot, but we don't exactly want to blow ourselves up just in case one of our bombs or grenades slip out of sub-space and contact on us before we get a change to use them. So I had an idea. While we hold them, we are safe, but as soon as this metal," he explained, tapping the silver metal encasing the bomb, "hits any sort of soil, then it explodes. So it means I'm safe in the lab with these, so Ratchet is really happy."
Bluestreak's doorwings fluttered a little. The motion caught Wheeljack's optics. What did fluttering mean again?
"Can I hold it?" Bluestreak asked quietly, reaching out cautiously.
Wheeljack just grinned and handed it over. "No problem. It's all been tested. Just don't throw it on any dirt."
Bluestreak laughed as he turned the orb in his hands, noting the different seams and lights decorating the bomb. "These will be useful."
Wheeljack shrugged. "Can't really say, though I'm hoping they will be..." When Bluestreak gave him a questioning look he flashed his indicators cheerfully. "I have no idea how big the actual boom will be..."
Bluestreak smiled, "I'm sure it will be your usual Wheeljack special."
They both chuckled at that, and the younger mech held it and turned it over one last time before reaching out for Wheeljack to take it back. Just as his fingers made to grab the invention, Bluestreak got nervous and accidentally let it go too early. It slipped through Wheeljack's fingers and dropped towards the ground. Both mechs gasped, and made to dive away from the ball like bomb, but were stopped.
Nothing had happened.
"Phew, that was close," muttered Wheeljack.
"Y-yeah," stuttered Bluestreak. He knew it could only be triggered by dirt, but even then there had been no guarantee of it not exploding.
Wheeljack made to get up, but his pede hit the bomb and sent it flying through the air...right at the test patch of dirt in the back of the lab.
"Aw slag!" yelled Wheeljack scrabbling to get up. He could see the bomb dipping lower, lower, it was going to his the dirt and explode!
With speed seen only on the battle field, Bluestreak dove, getting a face full of dirt in return for their lives. He's managed to catch the bomb merely a foot above the dirt. After a few tense moments, both released intakes of relief. That had been a close and while Wheeljack was used to blowing HIMSELF up, it was an entirely different thing to have Bluestreak in here with him if something went boom. The older mech wasn't sure if he could live with the guilt.
"Nice catch Blue."
Bluestreak didn't answer, nor had he moved from the his spot in front of the dirt patch. In fact, he was frowning at it, as if he's suddenly found the reason for all of his problems. "'Jack... Why is this in here...?"
Wheeljack wanted to facepalm for his stupidity. With a sigh, he explained, "I was testing the metal compound around the bomb to see how fast it dissipates when soil touches it. It was safe, because this was when the metal was alone and not around the bomb. Good thing you caught it. The metal takes only 0.003 seconds to disappear on contact. So, yeah, thanks."
With a squeak of alarm, Bluestreak yanked the bomb out of range from the organic compounds and scrambled away from it. Only that long and then he and Wheeljack may have been nothing more than piles of melted scrap. And if the gunner hadn'tbeen there... Bluestreak shuddered to think of what would have happened.
"Does Ratchet know you were testing this in here?"
Wheeljack scratched at his mask nervously, vocal indicators glowing dimly. "Uh... Not really."
Bluestreak frowned, placing the bomb on a clean, organic free workbench and scolded gently, "You should have or else he would have gone nuts trying to fix you if something did go wrong and all, and you know how Ratchet likes to-"
Holding up a hand, Wheeljack said reassuringly, "It's fine. You don't really need to worry Blue."
"Well, the only reason I worry is because I love you."
Wheeljack jerked his helm up at that statement to see Bluestreak standing, doorwings flared out and rigid behind him, hands clapped over his mouth and baby blue optics wide in fear. They stared at each other in shock for a few moments, before the younger gunner yelped, "Pretend I didn't say that, I didn't say it, I didn't, even if I meant it I-...oh, I'm sorry, I have to go, just forget what I said."
"Blue-" Wheeljack called out, but Bluestreak pushed past him, and ran out of the lab, leaving a shell-shocked Wheeljack behind him.
This was getting ridiculous. Wheeljack could understand the embarrassment. Pit, he could understand the first week of
hiding. Bluestreak could call it what he liked, but Wheeljack was pretty sure that three weeks was pushing it. Frag, he'd spent the last week and a half just trying to pin down the gunner to tell him that they needed to talk about this! Not to mention he'd been whacked upside the helm by an irritated Ratchet more than he had ever remembered in his entire lifecycle!
He could clearly remember standing in his lab, completely stunned, his processor working fast as it went through thought after thought, idea after idea before he's come to the conclusion that maybe he should be running after the gunner. By then it had been too late, but he's returned to his quarters to stare at his ceiling from his berth, thinking. And the conclusion he'd come to was that he'd been perhaps harboring his own feelings for the enthusiastic young datsun. Which had been a shock to him in the realization completely.
How could he not have noticed? He had always treated the young gunner differently to all the rest. Always listened to him, no matter what, even if he was chattering about the most inane things, always brought Bluestreak to his lab whenever there was a new invention that had not blown up yet, always tried to protect the youngest Praxian from any hurtful remarks or comments from any of the less delicate of the Ark crew, and was always there to greet Bluestreak if he was hurt in battle and in the medbay.
Pit, how had he not noticed that Bluestreak treated himdifferently?
Bluestreak always smiled for him. Bluestreak was one of his most frequent visitors in his lab, usually there with a telling about some event or bringing him some energon. He usually made him laugh, was usually the one to make sure the twins didn't prank his lab. Bluestreak was always the one to visit him in the medbay after a catastrophic explosion (again and again).
"Aw, slaggit," he cursed softly.
And now he felt like it was all too messed up. How could he even sort this out when Bluestreak was utilizing the little espionage skills Jazz had instilled in him and could not be found where he wanted him.
Wheeljack sighed. Not to mention the warning from Prowl to talk to Bluestreak before he called them both to his office and forced them to talk.
Which would be all colors of awkward. Yeah. He really didn't want to go there. All of which were reasons he was now sitting in Ratchet and the Twins' quarters and venting.
"I keep telling you to stop thinking about it so much." Ratchet grumped, adjusting Speedlight on his hip as the inquisitive sparkling tried to reach for his father's paints which were on the desk. Brightspark was happily watching a holovid on a handheld datapad while Jumpstart had made himself comfortable on the inventor's lap. The quiet sparklet was currently entranced with Wheeljack's helm fins which the engineer was lighting up to amuse him.
"Not that easy, Ratch..." Wheeljack sighed. "I really don't know what to do. He may not even be interested anymore..."
Ratchet sighed, "Honestly, just blow yourself up."
"But...Ratchet...huh?" Wheeljack said unintelligibly. His helm fins didn't light for a few moments, and Jumpstart made a few beeps and warbles in annoyance. Gently rubbing the little white chevron on the black helm and lighting his fins up again, Wheeljack looked at his friend in bewilderment.
"You haven't had one incident in the three weeks. You said yourself that Bluestreak worries about you. Just make something accidentally go wrong, I'll yell at you, fix you, Bluestreak can't resist it and will come to the medbay, and when he gets close enough, you kiss him senseless and everything falls into place. If he's interested, he'll let you know, and if not, same thing. Simple," the medic said, distracting Speedlight from Sunstreaker's paints with a Lamborghini plushie in red. The golden sparkling cooed and made 'grabby hands' at it happily.
Wheeljack's fins turned a light peach color as his faceplates heated in a blush. "Ratch, no way would I have the courage to do that. And Bluestreak needs a bit more...delicate handling. That'd probably make him run again."
Ratchet snorted.
Getting slightly indignant, Wheeljack said pointedly, "Not everyone can sort out each others problems as quick as you and the twins do, even if the way you guys solve things is...ah...loud."
Ratchet merely turned a calculating optic on Wheeljack. "'Jack. don'e tell me you're still - "
"Don't even go there Ratchet." Wheeljack cut him off quickly. Ignoring the frown on his friend's faceplates, he scrubbed at his own. Really, Ratchet and Prime were probably the only ones he felt truly comfortable dropping his mask around.
"Wheeljack." Ratchet growled, although there was definitely a sympathetic undertone in the name. "Not all mechs are like -"
"We are NOT talking about this." Wheeljack interrupted firmly, flashing his fins in slight warning. He really, reallydidn't want to go there.
"Fine. But frag it all 'Jack! You need to let it go at some point in your lifecycle!"
The inventor merely shrugged, helping the sparkling in his lap to stand as Jumpstart reached for the glowing objects on his 'uncle's' helm. Ratchet sighed.
"At least promise me you won't give up." The medic said as he placed his eldest next to his sister on the couch.
With a small growl, as not to scare Jumpstart, the Lancia sighed, "Fine. I won't. But it doesn't help that Blue's harder to find than Mirage with his electro disrupter on!"
"Jack, you should-"
::Decepticons are on approach! All availiable units to their positions!::
Red Alert's urgent comm. echoed throughout the Ark, causing Ratchet and Wheeljack to look at each other in horror.
"Why are they attacking now? They haven't attacked us directly in so long," Wheeljack said, gently bouncing Jumpstart as the little red and black mechlet whined a little and let out a little warble as an alarm began to ring.
Ratchet's faceplates seemed to pale and he whispered, "My sparklings. What if...what if they've come for my sparklings?"
"Then you need to stay here and get one of the twins to come here. If that IS what the Cons want, they are going to expect you to be in the medbay and will head there first. Aid will be able to handle anything, I'm sure," the engineer said, keeping his tone even. The triplets were remarkably perceptive, and could detect the tone in a voice well enough to understand. Right now, Brightspark had curled up to Speedlight, who laid a proective hand on her helm fins, reassuring his white plated sister. Jumpstart was also looking uncertain, turning from his Uncle to reach for his carrier.
Picking up the quietest sparkling, Ratchet whispered, "As much as I don't like it, you're right. Go out there and see what's happening for me will you?"
Wheeljack smiled reassuringly at his friend before his mask snapped back into place. He left the room and took off at a run through the halls, headed for the entrance of the ARK and passing Sunstreaker on the way. Sideswipe was standing rigid just inside the ARK, staring after his brother's retreating back, looking for all the world as if he wanted to just take off at a run too. Wheeljack didn't blame him. His family was in there after all.
"C'mon kid. I need you to focus!" The inventor said calmly, shoving one of his organic-activated bombs into the startled Twin's hand. "Your brother will keep them safe."
Sideswipe's hand tightened on the device and the absolute surety that flashed in his optics was Wheeljack's answer before the red hellion spoke aloud, tone just as confident. "I know."
"Well then! Let's give these creeps and aft whooping they won't be in a hurry to toss aside!"
Sideswipe's grin was menacing and fiendish at the CME's comment and he chuckled, "You're right 'Jack, on Prowl's signal, let's unleash hell."
Unsubspacing a few more of the organic-activated bombs, helm fins lighting a bright blue, Wheeljack nodded and said, "Hope that throwing arm's as good as your bondmate's." Sideswipe chuckled again but didn't reply, both of them striding out to where Optimus and his officers were conferring as they readied their weapons and their resolve. In plain view of the front line was a large dust cloud, kicked up by the 'groundpounder' Decepticons, while in the sky dots became discernable as particular Decepticons.
"Autobots, on my signal!" called Optimus.
Wheeljack was momentarily distracted and looked up to see Bluestreak and Mirage on top of the Ark, guns pointed at the oncoming enemy. Bluestreak looked down for a moment, his optics meeting Wheeljack's. Something unreadable went through those young, haunted optics before they drew away.
"NOW!" shouted the Autobot Leader, running forward to meet Megatron, who flew down and launched himself at the red and blue mech.
With a mighty throw, Wheeljack launched the first of his bombs at the approaching Stunticons.
The battle raged around him, his bomb exploding almost like a sign of the struggle that erupted in the span a few kliks. Wheeljack was carrying a bomb in one servo and his gun in the other, shooting and dodging as he ran through tangled bodies that collided against one another in a continuous fight for dominance. The inventor was forced to shoot blindly for a few moments, finding himself pinned behind upturned stone and boulders by heavy fire. Heavy Seeker fire. For whatever reason, the Coneheads were feeling like Wheeljack hunting today. And the problem with his invention? it just wasn't too effective against flying frames. He reallyshould think of some of these things before hand...
Well, nothing he could do about it now. So he continued to fire, lobbing the bomb towards the thickest area of his enemies that he could find from his pinned down position before pulling his last bomb from subspace. But luck had finally run dry with him, it would seem. Just as he was about to launch the small orb at the Constructicons to prevent them from forming Devastator, laserfire hit his shoulder and blinding pain was all he recognized for an agonizing moment.
And his grip on his device failed, sending it in a straight drop... at his feet.
"Ah, fra-"
BOOM!
Searing agony ripped through his chassis as he was blown backwards, impacting the wall of the volcano. His optics glitched out for a moment before he came to. And promptly wished he could slip into unconsciousness. Like NOW, thankyoupleasePrimus!
Getting around the pain was difficult, but he did it, if only out of need to assess his injuries. His entire left side was pretty much slagged, his leg gone and his arm from the elbow down embedded in the wall by his head. One helm fin was non existent, the other cracked and flickering wildly. His blast mask was the only thing that seemed intact if only blackened.
He hadn't even gotten through HALF the damage before a shadow fell over him and he was staring into the crimson optics of a Combaticon. Brawl, if he remembered correctly.
He was officially slagged.
A low, evil chuckle rumbled out of the Combaticon's vocaliser as he purred, "Oooh, I'ma gonna have some fun with you. What should I do first, hmm? Should I interface with you? No, not classy...I think...I'll have one of yur pretty little flicker-lights."
'Flicker lights? Oh, my helm fin,' Wheeljack thought dazedly, trying to scramble away in pain but only succeeding in more energon pouring out of his melted and slagged chassis.
A hand was reaching for him, reaching for his fin, grasping it, pulling hard.
"NO!"
The hand was gone.
And the clangs and bangs of a fist pounding into another bot's metal hide were heard. Although it was excruciating, Wheelajck turned his helm to the sidesaw his unexpected saviour on top of the Decepticon's body and rapidly punching with both fists, energon and plating flying everywhere.
The doorwings made the identity unmistakable.
Bluestreak.
"Don't you ever touch him again!" Bluestreak yelled.
The Combaticon couldn't very well answer, seeing as the gunner had practically beaten him into unconsciousness. And Bluestreak just sat there, looking at the energon covered mess he had created, his whole body trembling in shock. Wheeljack's spark broke in two, seeing the absolute look of being lost on the Datsun's faceplates. He reached his only functional arm to him, wanting to comfort, unable to reach and exploding pain vibrating through his entire chassis.
"Blue..." His voice was barely a static filled whisper, but in the dying sounds of battle it seemed to snap Bluestreak to awareness and the gunner's helm snapped his way. In mere kliks, Bluestreak had scrabbled over to kneel beside the rapidly deteriorating engineer. he grabbed the outstretched servo, cradling it gently and comming for help.
::First Aid or Ratchet, if you can, please come to my position, we are near the west wall of the volcano, and Wheeljack's hurt real bad and he needs attention or he might go into stasis lock and I don't know what to do so please help!:: Bluestreak babbled hurriedly over the comm. lines, unknowingly stroking across Wheeljack's hand. Wheeljack wished he could tell Bluestreak how good it felt, but coughed instead, distracting the gunner from pleading for aid even more.
"Oh Jack I saw the explosion and I saw Brawl come up and I had to abandon my post because..."
"Blue...you...urk...saved my life a-*fzzt*gain, so t-thanks," Wheeljack choked out, using what strength he had to squeeze the grey Datsun's hand.
Bluestreak gave him a small smile.
Wheeljack was reminded once again by how Bluestreak ALWAYS smiled for him. The noises of the battlefield ebbed away, and all of his focus was on the younger mech and he whispered, "I wanted...to talk to *fzzt* you...after you ran out." Although his vocaliser was fritzing a little, he found it a bit easier to talk now. "I wasn't gonna...judge you or anything-g for nnnh, it. But ya n-never gave me the chance."
Bluestreak felt his faceplates heat. He knew he had been avoiding Wheeljack, and he knew that the engineer had wanted to talk. But he had been too scared of rejection, of being told he was just a silly young mech for crushing on someone with such an age gap between them. Upon looking at the injured mech before him, Bluestreak still couldn't see the age in him. In the frame and the maturity, perhaps, but Wheeljack had such youth in his actions and curiosity in his ideas that it reminded Bluestreak of himself at times.
"I'm sorry Jack, but I was a little...uhh..."
"Afraid of being rejected...?" The injured engineer supplied softly.
"Yeah..." Bluestreak mumbled, staring intently at their hands intertwined.
Wheeljack tried to move his arm to stroke at Bluestreak's face, wanting to reassure. Instead, pain crackled from the effort and a whine left his throat before he could stop it. Bluestreak's gaze snapped back to his face, hesitation bleeding into worry and fear.
"Oh Primus!'Jack! Shut down, you need to shut down!" the gunner cried, at the same time throwing open another frantic comm link. "RATCHET!"
The last thing Wheeljack saw before he lost consciousness was Bluestreak's fear filled face and then Ratchet's business like one. And then the darkness claimed him.
Opening his optics, Wheeljack found himself starting at that familiar crack in the ceiling of the medbay that looked like a cresent moon. He sighed. Got slagged again, probably Ratchet gonna yell again, and he had made a mess of things again.
He was surprised Smokescreen didn't have a pool running of how many times he could get slagged up.
His thoughts turned to Bluestreak and his spark ached for the young gunner.
How he must be feeling. The Praxian had admitted on the battlefield that he was scared of rejection, and he hadn't even reassured those worries. He had gone offline before he had a chance to do so. And slag it if the look on Bluestreak's face made a fierce protective urge flame over him. Blue shouldn't be worried sick about him, not at all. He really wanted to see the doorwinged mech smiling and laughing again in happiness.
What could he give to him?
The idea popped into his processor immediately.
He should ask Bluestreak on a date.
But then he recoiled from the idea. He knew Bluestreak, knew the gentle and kind soul he was and yet he couldn't help but shy away from any possible inkling of a relationship. He wasn't sure if he was ready to trust again, even after so long after the breakdown between he and Sirrus.
It was unnerving somewhat. He knew he felt something... even if he had never really noticed it before. And if he was honest with himself, which he made a point of doing as often as he could, he wouldn't be opposed to starting a relationship with Bluestreak. He couldn't really even think of a more caring partner. It was just...
"I can't do it..." He mumbled to himself, switching his optics off.
"Can't do what?"
The voice startled him, his optics snapping back on with alarm as he shifted far too quickly for his steal healing body. He gave an involuntary yelp of pain and hands reached out to keep him on the berth.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! You just talked so suddenly and I thought you were talking to me, but I was just so surprised 'cause Ratchet said you wouldn't really be awake yet, not for awhile and you're still only half repaired!" The rambling could only be identified to Bluestreak and Wheeljack groaned.
He wasn't ready for this NOW! Frag! And the irony was not lost on him. Weeks of trying to pin down the gunner and now that he had a chance he was shrinking away from it!
'Coward! Fragging aft COWARD Wheeljack!'
"...and Prowl's been threatening to pull me into his office with you there, and I know if heknows, then it's been really obvious that I'm avoiding you and..."
Oh...Bluestreak was still going.
"Blue," he said hoarsely, "Calm down." It was really the only thing he could advise. He was stuck on the berth in the medbay - the most unromantic place in all of the ARK (unless you were Ratchet and the twins)- and Bluestreak was having a babbling meltdown which was not helping with the processor ache brought on by the pain. Add that he was torn between not saying anything about Bluestreak's attentions and about addressing them, which would be very awkward to get through. Oh, and don't forget he was currently in one of his most slagged conditions he had ever been in.
Bluestreak took a deep breath and let it out and said, "I'm sorry. And...I really wish I hadn't of been avoiding you."
Helm fins flickering weakly, Wheeljack replied in a pain filled slur, "Issalright. You 'kay?"
"You shouldn't worry about me Jack, I'm fine," The younger mech tried to reassure, but the inflection in his tone made him completely transparent to the healing engineer.
"No, you're not," the Lancia said softly, thanking Primus his meds had just kicked in, "you're doorwings are sagging at 20 degrees lower than they should be. You've had a nightmare, haven't you? Especially after attacking that Decepticon to save me." Wheeljack did feel a bit guilty at the crestfallen look on Bluestreak's face as he realised he was plainly displaying his emotions.
"It's nothing..." Bluestreak muttered.
"Yeah, N' I'mma turbo fox." Wheeljack frowned.
"No." Bluestreak suddenly quipped, "You're just the inventor who never misses a chance to blow everything up."
The Lancia felt his lips twitch at the corners but in the end couldn't fight the grin that was spreading across his faceplates. However, Bluestreak's sudden scrutiny of him caught him by surprise.
"Blue, what -"
"Why don't you let others see your smile more often?" There was genuine curiosity in the Datsun's tone.
It was then that Wheeljack realized that he was maskless. His optics went wide in alarm and another wordless noise of distress left his vocals.
"No, please don't put your mask back on!" Bluestreak pleaded, hands suddenly shooting out to cup Wheeljack's faceplates, hoping that Wheeljack wouldn't dare shut his mask on his fingers. His helm fins were flickering yellow in alarm and he was trying to turn his helm away from the younger mech.
"Jack, please look at me," Bluestreak tried again, gently stroking the lightly scarred faceplate. Were the scars bothering Wheeljack? Was that why he wore the mask? Bluestreak thought it was rather pointless really. There were only about four scars and only one was really noticable, while the others you'd have to search to point them out. The lighter silver of the scars drew the gunner's attention and he gently stroked a thumb down the lighter coloured, but healed, weld.
"No, Blue, I'm old, disfigured, don't!" Wheeljack protested, cursing his injured state. He would have been able to turn away if he had not been so damaged.
Looking worridly into the stressed blue optics, Bluestreak found that his spark broke for the mech below him. He had never thought that Wheeljack had skeletons in the closet. Guess they were more alike than he had previously thought. "Wheeljack, I don't know what you're talking about. Your face is fine. In fact, it's really handsome when you smile."
Wheeljack's struggles ceased at the words. Bluestreak's words had that innocent ring of truth about them. But his past...he had never let the hateful comments go, and they had clung to him like barnacles to the hull of a ship. Looking up into the baby blue optics of the grey mech cupping his face, Wheeljack saw something he hadn't seen in anybot's optics in a long time.
Want.
Not lust, a physical want.
But a want just to care, to care about, to reassure, to be with.
Wheeljack felt his entire frame begin to tremble. He could hear the words, the laughing... But at the same time, no matter how hard he looked, he could find no deceit in the young mech's optics. And he felt a wave of guilt wash through him that he would be looking for something so mean sparked in such an honest mech.
Wheeljack frowned. "Blue. It's okay. I'm not disillusioned or anything..." He averted his optics, unable to turn his helm out of Bluestreak's grip.
"What do you mean? I really do think you look very handsome," Bluestreak said, but his faceplates were heating in a blush as he said it. He was confused. He thought that Wheeljack would welcome the complement but the engineer seemed like he wanted to bolt, to close his facemask up so no one would ever see his face again. Only his fingers on Wheeljack's cheeks seemed to make sure that Wheeljack couldn't hide.
Biting his lower lip in between sentences, Wheelajck said, "Bluestreak, I don't want you to lie to me to make up for the avoiding thing. I don't think I'm a good-looking mech at all really."
Bluestreak opened his mouth to protest, but halted when he saw something shadow over the usually cheerful glint in the older mechs optics. Plucking up his courage, he asked gently, "Jack...who made you believe that?"
Wheeljack's helm fins flickered from orange to yellow wuickly and then settled on yellow. Bluestreak was being too perceptive today. He must have been taking lessons from Ratchet.
"It...it was nobody," he replied. He winced as it came out. It sounded vague even to him!
"Like slag Jack! I have never seen you like this and that means it's like trauma like what happened to me with my memories of Praxus and the destruction which I never will forget and I am still haunted so please don't lie to me and yourself because I know something or someone would have had to have told you this heaps of times to hurt you or something like that. Wheeljack, I've always talked and you've always listened, so why doesn't it switch around? Talk to me and I'll listen," Bluestreak babbled determinedly, absentmindedly stroking the sides of Wheeljack's face again
"Bluestreak..." Wheeljack murmured. "Blue, please, I can't -"
"Wheeljack." Bluestreak cut in, serious. "Please. Let me listen."
"Promise me you'll never tell another soul," Wheeljack whispered quietly, resolve wilting under the wide opticed and innocent gaze.
"I swear on the ruins of Praxus," Bluestreak whispered back.
Wheeljack knew, with absolute certainty, that Bluestreak was as good as his word. Because that sentence had been incorporated into Bluestreak becoming an Autobot. If he swore on Praxus, then he meant it with all of his spark. It gave the engineer a bit of a nudge to open up, to allow himself to become vulnerable, just for this moment.
"I never used to wear a mask. Never. Even if I was dealing with explosives or other dangerous materials, I never wore it. Not many other engineers did either, because we needed to experience everything. So...I did make things explode, even back then," he explained slowly, quirking his lips up at his last comment as Bluestreak did too. "And one day there was a new receptionist at the engineering wing of the academy, where I researched at. His name...was Sirrus."
Bluestreak waited patiently as Wheeljack paused, gathering his will with a long draw of air through his intakes. "He was great. A real charmer, flirted up and down all over the academy." A bitter smile pulled at the inventor's exposed face. "Needless to say I was hooked from the first 'hello'. We dated. He was so sweet... those first few orns." He paused again, feeling his systems wanting to push him into recharge. but he needed to finish this. He'd started, so he may as well continue to the end. He took another draught of cool air into his systems. "I was absolutely convinced he was the one, ya know? HEhad me convinced. Ratchet warned me to not just stop at one, not get ahead of myself. But frag, I was young and in love. I was so sure it would never end."
Bluestreak felt a pang in his spark at the absolute look of grief on the engineer's face.
"But he had this way about him." Wheeljack continued, his optics staring at the ceiling, Bluestreak's servos still framing his face. "There were so many time that I was left feeling like I wan't good enough. At the time, I never realized that he had been allowing it. Never told me otherwise, always saying that i needed to try to present myself better. After awhile that was all I ever heard when we were together. I wasn't good enough he could do so much better than me, that I was lucky I was good in the berth or he would have left me ages before. It was bad enough in private and my self esteem eventually became so low, even Ratchet was skipping classes to stay with me. And when he took it public, I felt... absolutely broken. Still do." The small growl above him had his optics tracing warily to the Datsun's face. He was surprised to see anger playing there.
"Continue." Bluestreak said slowly, strained.
Wheeljack frowned, but didn't argue. he wouldn't admit it just then, but an angry Bluestreak was an intimidating Bluestreak.
"Eventually, it became too much." The inventor was quick to derail the look of absolute horror that crossed Bluestreak's face. "No! Oh, Primus no! I never got bad enough to want to kill myself, contrary to what all my explosions say! No. It never came to that. I made the move to break up with him. Ratchet had been helping me along and although he never PUSHED me to do anything, he was encouraging that I break out of Sirrus's hold. He got... violent, when I finally confronted him. The Enforcers were called in, I was placed in witness protection and I just... I wore the mask. Never really took it off again. Never trusted my spark to another again."
Bluestreak took a moment to let it all soak into his processor. It was so terribly sobering to hear that Wheeljack, who was chipper, upbeat, and a real go-getter despite the many times he had managed to blow himself up, had been treated like that. Apart from perhaps Jazz and Bumblebee, Wheeljack was the most liked mech on the whole Ark!
"That...really sucks," Bluestreak said, cursing himself at the lame attempt at empathy.
Wheeljack had to chuckle at that, The response was just so Bluestreak.
"I mean...I don't ever want you to think like that anymore. I...Primus I REALLY want to hug you right now, but I'm not sure, because I've had a massive crush on you for such a long time and I don't know if it'll be appropriate in these circumstances," Bluestreak whispered, gently taking his hands away from Wheeljack's face, giving him a wordless choice. Keep it open and trust, or close it, and walk away from what he had to offer. Wheeljack seemed to sense it too, and he was biting his lower lip again, enraptured by the honesty in Bluestreak's optics.
"Blue, I want to try. I do, I'd really like to go out with you and see if this leads somewhere," Wheeljack said honestly, as if surprised at it own admission.
Bluestreak smiled, making the engineer's spark melt at the sight. "I'd like to. Really. I would really like to be the one that you'd...trust your spark to again. I really want to help you forget about Sirrus. He's a no good bucket of slag for saying those sorts of things to you. I'd never, ever, even to the most ugly thing on Earth do something like that."
"Say it Blue," Wheeljack whispered again, hesitantly, well aware he was probably feeling like Bluestreak had in the past three weeks. Afraid of rejection.
"Say what?" asked the gunner, confused.
"Say I'm good enough for you to even think about touching, about...wanting to go out with." Wheeljack was opening himself to his most vulnerable, his mask still retracted, showing his quivering lips.
Bluestreak look surprised for a moment. Then he smiled gently and said, "I'll do you one better."
And he leaned forward and did the one thing he'd been dreaming of for the last hundred vorns. He pressed a chaste, sincere kiss on the inventor's exposed lips. Wheeljack's vents stalled for a moment and he stilled. Then he pushed forward, optics offlining and applying his own pressure.
When Bluestreak pulled away, both their faces were flush with embarrassment and mingling pleasure. Bluestreak smiled softly, noting the star struck, but weary look in the inventor's dimming optics. "Rest 'Jack. We'll talk more later, 'kay?"
Wheeljack 'hmmm'd' tiredly, before his systems could no longer stay on and he fell into recharge.
There was silence after that, punctuated with the steady beeps of the machines monitoring Wheeljack's spark, Bluestreak for once not feeling the need to fill the void with words.
"Told you he's a stubborn slag head." Bluestreak looked up to see ratchet leaning in his office door way. the gunner blushed.
"R-ratchet! When did- how did -?"
The medic smiled a mischievous smile, something Bluestreak was sure he'd picked up from Sideswipe. "From just about 'I'll do you one better.'"
Bluestreak groaned in embarrassment, but knew that he would not change what had just happened.
For now he knew that he was feeling just as wanted as he had wanted Wheeljack - not lust, but something milder, gentler.
They were wanted by each other. And sometimes, just by knowing that you were wanted to stick around, that there was that feeling in another, it was enough. With a happy flutter of his doorwings, Bluestreak strode out of the medbay. He couldn't wait to show Wheeljack how to trust once more.
Ratchet shook his helm and walked over to where his friend was recharging. "Tell, you what 'Jack." He smiled fondly. "You sure know how to pick 'em."
So you all know the drill! Read, review, good honest critque and no flamers, thankyouverymuch ^^
Be sure to keep an eye out for the next part. I'll most likely post the rest in chapters here. XD