The Nuts and Bolts of the Situation

by Marzarelo

After centuries of living under the reputation born of his many disastrous lab accidents, Wheeljack's confidence in his skills as an engineer and inventor begins to suffer. But Optimus has never doubted his engineer's abilities. Eventual Prime/'Jack slash

4. Chapter 4

Hey, remember this? It hasn't been updated in a year, because I SUUUUCK!! T_T This chapter has been betaed and edited now, so feel free to point out any mistakes you might find. I dedicate this chapter to everyone who has waited so patiently for it, particularly leavingyouforme, who has been ever so gently pestering and encouraging me to continue writing this story. Also want to shout out a gigantic THANK YOU to Greenangel for being my trusty beta reader, and letting me bounce ideas off of her and helping me hash out the plot of this thing~

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Only a few days passed before Optimus found himself becoming exhausted again. He hadn't recharged nearly long enough during his brief time off. He'd only managed to stay offline for a couple of hours before the intensity of his nightmare had forced him back online. He awoke with his spark practically twisting and writhing within him, reaching out through the severed bond for a mate who was no longer there. Each time the signal returned, incomplete, a stab of pain wracked his processors. It had been a long time since he had such a terrible episode, and it took him nearly twenty minutes to calm his spark and recover from the residual effects of his dream. He made a few more attempts to complete his recharge cycle, but he could scarcely offline for a few moments when the nightmare would return and he was forced to wake again as the distress threatened to drive his spark into another episode. At that point, Optimus had given up on recharge for the time being and decided to pay a visit to his chief engineer, hoping he would have better luck recharging some time later.

Originally Optimus had intended to attempt to recharge again that evening, but instead he ended up burying himself in office work. He was still behind in reading the most recent activity and status reports, and he had a massive list of diplomatic duties clamoring for his attention. Political leaders from all over the Earth were attempting to contact him, seeking an audience or press conference with him, inviting him and the Autobots to attend various festivals and ceremonies, or extending honors to him or one of his mechs for some courageous act. Optimus appreciated all of these things, and actually enjoyed his role as a diplomat most of the time, but the responsibility of trying to sort out which offers to accept and which to decline without offending any of the proud Human officials was a chore he would have gladly done without. As much as he hated to admit it, there were times when he almost longed for the relative simplicity of the battlefield. Almost. He cared far too much for the lives of his fellow Cybertronians, as well as those of the Humans and other creatures endangered by their war, to ever really prefer the heat of battle over diplomacy and peaceful negotiation.

Ironhide, ever vigilant and attuned to Optimus's behavior, was well aware of his friend's growing weariness, but he had resolved to keep quiet about it for the time being. Ironhide usually trusted Optimus to know how far he could push himself before he needed to rest. The leader had an annoying tendency to overwork himself, but most of the time he managed to get just enough fuel and recharge to maintain himself. Every once in a while, though, Optimus would push himself too far, and that's when Ironhide would step in. When he had been appointed Prime's bodyguard, he'd vowed to protect the leader from anything that threatened him, even at the cost of his own life. At the time, he hadn't suspected that it would occasionally include protecting Optimus from his own overdeveloped sense of duty and slightly skewed priorities. The red mech folded his arms across his boxy chest and glared to himself at that last thought. Optimus, in his infinite humility, didn't seem to realize just how important he was. Ironhide couldn't imagine how they would manage if something were to happen to Optimus. How would the matrix ever find someone who could live up to the standard Optimus had set? He was the greatest Prime in Cybertronian history, and the Autobots would be lost without his leadership!

A tiny part of Ironhide's processor reasoned that his opinion of Optimus may be just slightly biased, but he mentally pummeled that small voice into silence. It didn't matter either way, really. In his position, he could afford to be biased in the leader's favor. Pit, it probably made him better at his job. The accuracy of his opinion aside, Optimus WAS much more important than he gave himself credit for, and Ironhide wished that the leader would put his own health and maintenance a bit higher on the priority list. Optimus was always trying to put everyone else first, but by neglecting himself he was ultimately doing more harm than good.

Optimus glanced up from his work at his hot-headed companion. He could easily tell that Ironhide was seething quietly about something, and he was about 95% certain that he could guess what it was. With a sigh, he set aside the datapad he'd been working on. He couldn't seem to concentrate at the moment, anyway, so he may as well take a break. Maybe he could try recharging again. At any rate, it would give Ironhide one less thing to get worked up over. The sound of his sigh drew the older mech's attention, and Optimus stopped trying to hide his weariness. "I can't focus on any of this. I'm going to grab a cube and see if I can get some recharge. Think the universe can go on without me for a while?"

A look of relief passed over Ironhide's features, and he smirked slightly at the weak joke. "I think we can manage ta hold things together."

"Alright." With a few deft keystrokes Optimus set up his automated away messages, then he sent a comm. message to Prowl to inform the tactician that he would be in command for the next several hours. "All set. Comm. me if anyth-"

"Comm. you if anythin' happens. I know the drill. We got this covered. Have a nice break."

Optimus nodded and bid Ironhide farewell as the red mech practically rushed him out of the office.

Setting off toward the rec. room to get some energon, Optimus tried to let his mind wander. His overworked processor needed the break just as much as the rest of him did, but it was a struggle. Whereas he'd been having trouble focusing on his work while sitting at his desk, he couldn't seem to think of anything else now that he was away from it. It was almost impossible to fall into recharge when he couldn't get his mind off of his work. He'd be half-way offline when the nagging pull of his overdeveloped sense of responsibility would drag him back online, reminding him of all the things he left unfinished or unresolved. He was already having plenty of trouble recharging as it was without that added difficulty. He needed a distraction. Something else to occupy his processor that wasn't the constant, oppressive anxiety over his duty.

Before even fully processing the decision, he'd altered his trajectory. He turned down a corridor that lead him away from the rec. room, and toward the science wing.

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Wheeljack stood pondering the object on the surface of his work table. The antigravity field projector was coming along nicely. He'd managed to get the components assembled, and it WORKED to an extent, but the main difficulty lay in tweaking and fine-tuning it to get the most effective result. With his full attention focused on the task at hand, the inventor was carefully turning the wrench in his hand to make a small adjustment when he was startled by the door chime. His hand jerked, the adjustment was ruined, and the wrench bounced to the floor, sliding under the work table. Cursing loudly, he crawled under the table to retrieve the fallen tool.

Hearing the commotion from outside the door, Optimus decided to risk a slight breach in etiquette and enter before getting confirmation from the lab's occupant. After all, the inventor may not be in a position to answer the door at the moment. Typing in his security code, he overrode the lock and ducked inside quietly, not wanting to disrupt Wheeljack should he be working on something tedious. Once inside he was greeted with the sight of the inventor's back-side poking out from under the cluttered work table. He couldn't help but chuckle, but he resisted the urge to make a suggestive remark on the prominently displayed aft and chose a neutral comment instead. "Did you lose something?"

"Optimus!?" The inventor jumped in surprise at the sound of the other mech's voice, and the work table shuddered with the force of his helm smacking into the underside of it. He cursed again and quickly withdrew from beneath the table, sitting back on his heels and clutching the back of his helm.

Suppressing a guilty laugh, Optimus approached the smaller mech with amused compassion. "Are you alright? Here, let me see it." Gentle hands hauled the inventor easily to his feet and carefully pulled the smaller mech's hands away to reveal a small scuff on the back of the gray helm.

The inventor's faceplates flushed in embarrassment. "It's nothing, it just... rattled my processors a little..."

"It looks okay. No dent. It's nothing a little polish wouldn't solve..." Optimus trailed off as he took in the smaller mech's appearance, then he laughed softly. "On the other hand, it doesn't really stand out."

Wheeljack's embarrassment deepened as he became acutely aware of his current state. He was practically covered in scrapes and small dents, particularly around his hands and knees, and his armor was liberally smeared with grease and grime. He had been to the junkyard the day before to scavenge for parts, digging enthusiastically through heaps of broken and discarded machinery for hours, so he was looking even more disheveled and dirty than usual. He hadn't thought anything of it, though, until Optimus's casual comment. He caught sight of the leader's hand, still gently gripping his forearm. The vibrant sapphire paint contrasted sharply with his scuffed and dirty gray armor. For once, he suddenly felt ashamed of his appearance. "I-I'm sorry. Wow, I really should hit the washracks. I just didn't think about it."

"There's no need to get cleaned up on my account. It doesn't bother me. Besides, I doubt it'd be possible to stay clean when you're constantly up to your optics in recycled components. It just shows you aren't afraid to get dirty for the sake of your work." Optimus released the smaller mech and gave him a companionable thump on the back before turning to examine the object on the work table.

Wheeljack marveled briefly at the leader's ability to take an unflattering observation and somehow twist it into a compliment. But then, he noted as he looked over the other mech's frame, Optimus's condition wasn't exactly pristine, either. The larger mech's armor was clean, but a few superficial scuffs and scratches marred the bright red and blue paint, and some of the edges of his armor were worn through almost to the metal. The inventor smiled to himself. It was refreshing that Optimus seemed to share his opinion that there were more important matters than making sure one's exterior was glistening and perfect. Not that it mattered in the leader's case, though. Wheeljack suspected that Optimus would still be attractive by most Cybertronians' standards even if he were covered in dirt and had most of his paint scraped off.

Studying the mech in front of him, he was trying to picture Optimus in the worst condition he could imagine to test his theory when his chain of thought was broken by a soft whistle. He looked down to see E.L.I. holding out the wrench he'd dropped earlier. With a sigh, he accepted the tool and muttered a word of thanks, to which the little drone responded by twittering happily and looking extremely pleased with himself. Turning his attention back to Optimus, Wheeljack belatedly registered that the leader was inspecting the invention on his work table. An unfamiliar rush of giddiness flooded him at Optimus's show of interest, and he moved to the larger mech's side, eager to explain the project. "This is the-"

"Wait, don't tell me. I want to see if I can guess..." Optimus studied the object closely, while being careful not to touch it. Some of the components looked vaguely familiar, like something he had seen before in passing. After a moment it dawned on him. "Is this that anti-gravity thing you were talking about last time?"

The inventor's optics widened in surprise. "Yeah, it is. How'd you know?"

"I thought I recognized these parts on the side, and I realized that they looked like some of the components connected to E.L.I.'s hover-panel. You said you were working on an anti-gravity-beam-thing based on the same technology you used for E.L.I.'s hover-panel, so I just assumed..."

"Wow...you really WERE listening." Wheeljack was simultaneously impressed and flattered that Optimus had absorbed enough information from his enthusiastic rambling to identify his new invention.

"Of course I was. I'm no scientist, but I try to make up for my lack of knowledge by paying attention. Anyway, how is it coming along?" He could see that Wheeljack was practically bouncing with excitement, so he mentally braced himself for what he expected would be a VERY energetic progress report.

"IT WORKS!" The inventor shouted, and the accompanying flash of cheerful blue light from his vocal indicators was almost blinding. The sudden shout also startled the skittish lab assistant, who actually darted behind OPTIMUS for protection from his master's unexpected outburst. "I tested it this morning, and the basic design works! I can successfully PROJECT the anti-gravity field, but... well... It needs just a little more work before I'll really consider it complete. Right now I can only project the field for about a 1 meter distance, and it's only wide enough to move something the size of... well, about the size of E.L.I. I think I'll be able to vary the size of the field and the distance it's projected with a few adjustments, though. I should be able to have it completely finished in the next couple of days!"

"That's wonderful, Wheeljack. I'm sure it will be extremely useful to our human friends, and even to some of the minibots. You know how much Cliffjumper hates to admit that his size limits him in any way."

Wheeljack chuckled. "You don't have to remind me. Actually, I kinda' had him and 'Bee in mind when I was designing this. I mean yeah, it'd be useful for humans, too, but I'd have to scale it down a bit for them. That'll take a little longer, but once I get all the kinks worked out, it shouldn't be that hard."

Silence fell between them, but Optimus was simply too tired to be perturbed by it. Wheeljack, however, was still uncomfortable with the silence. He was no longer nervous as he was before, but he still felt compelled to keep their conversation alive. If it remained quiet for too long he worried that Optimus would grow bored and leave, and he didn't want that to happen. Of course the inventor had no shortage of interesting projects to talk about, but he tended to keep the more far-fetched ones to himself until he had some way to show that it was plausible and not just an outrageous fantasy from an overactive imagination.

Wheeljack tried to think of one of his more realistic ideas. Something innovative and impressive enough to catch the leader's interest, but reasonable enough that it wouldn't sound ridiculous and impossible. It was a difficult task. There was a sizable gap between what a majority of sentient beings in the known universe accepted as possible and what WHEELJACK considered possible, and it was often difficult for him to find the line where one ended and the other began. After a few moments of contemplation his optics settled on a datapad that had been shoved aside on his work table and he excitedly snatched it up. "Speaking of humans, I haven't shown you this yet!" Activating the device, he handed it to Optimus. "It's a blueprint I've been working on. Sort-of a mechanical exoskeleton... for a human. I thought it'd make it easier for them to keep up with us, or... y'know, it'd sorta' level the playing field between them and us..."

Optimus scanned the blueprint, and his optics widened with interest. "Wheeljack, this is a GREAT idea." The inventor's spark swelled with pride at his leader's approval. Optimus's comment was all the prompting he needed to launch head-long into a full break-down of all of the exoskeleton's many features and details.

Though Optimus seemed perfectly content to listen for as long as he cared to talk, Wheeljack couldn't help but notice that the larger mech seemed a bit more subdued than he had been the last time he'd visited. He began to observe the leader more closely as he continued chattering about the details on the blueprint. Optimus's optics were noticeably dimmer than usual, and there was a subtle lag in his speech and movements. He also noticed that the taller mech's posture seemed to droop just slightly. Wheeljack wasn't a fully trained medic, but he could recognize the symptoms of low energy and fatigue when he saw them. Suddenly he was concerned for his leader's well-being, and he paused mid-sentence in his explanation. "You okay, Optimus? You look tired."

The sudden change of subject caught Optimus off guard and he looked up from the blueprint to see the smaller mech gazing up at him, worry clearly written in his optics. After a moment's hesitation, the leader heaved a defeated sigh. "Is it really that obvious?"

"Not OBVIOUS, really, but I can be pretty observant once my attention is focused on something." With his suspicions confirmed, the inventor's concern increased. He had known for a very long time that Optimus had a tendency to overwork himself. As Ratchet's best friend, he was often on the receiving end of the hot-tempered medic's ranting. The leader's self-neglect had become an increasingly common topic for Ratchet's tirades ever since he'd bonded with Ironhide. Though, as often as Wheeljack had heard the medic complain, he had never really worried about Optimus until now. He guessed that his sudden concern may be because he was just seeing the evidence first-hand for the first time. "Is anything wrong? I'm no Ratchet, obviously, but maybe I can help..."

Optimus shook his head. "No. I appreciate the offer, but there isn't really anything to be done about it. I just haven't managed to complete a recharge cycle in a while. I was actually just on my way to get a cube and catch a few hours of recharge, but I thought I would stop by and see what you were up to first."

"You should have told me! I'm sorry, I didn't know I was keeping you from recharge! I've just been screwing around, telling you all about my stupid stuff, when you should be resting!"

"It's fine, Wheeljack. That's actually one of the reasons I came to visit you. I couldn't get my mind off of my work, and I can never recharge properly if all I can think about are all the things I've left unfinished and the mountains of paperwork that will be waiting for me when I come back online. I needed something else to think about, and hearing about your most recent ideas has never failed to captivate me. ...And I don't think your inventions are stupid. I find them very interesting, which is why they make such good distractions from my usual thought process."

"Oh..." The inventor's's faceplates warmed slightly at the unexpected compliments. "Well... thank you. You're welcome to stop in anytime you need a distraction, I guess. Or, you know, any time you want, really. I don't mind. It's actually really nice to have someone actually WANT to hear about all my crazy ideas. I don't wanna' take away from time you could be using for recharge, though... Um... I was just about to take a break and go get a cube myself, so... you wanna' just hang out here for a minute and I'll grab one for you, too? It'd save you a trip back to the rec room."

Optimus instinctively wanted to refuse the offer. He didn't usually allow others to serve him. In his position it would be easy to sit back and let others do everything for him, waiting on him hand and foot, but that was a lifestyle he'd never desired. He didn't want to be exalted or elevated above those he commanded, so he generally refused to let others do things for him that he was capable of doing himself. He sometimes let Ironhide bring him things or run small errands for him, but that was because-

Suddenly Optimus recognized the gesture for what it was: a timid opening overture of friendship. He let Ironhide do things for him because the older mech wasn't some groveling servant or lackey, he was a close friend. Wheeljack wasn't trying to serve him, he was just offering a small personal favor out of concern for his well-being. It was the sort of little gesture that would be second nature between two people who had been close for a long time, but in a budding personal relationship such as theirs, it was a benchmark. It was questing out the boundaries and nature of their interaction with one another. If he were to refuse it, it would be like rejecting Wheeljack's offer for friendship. There was no question. Of course he would accept.

Optimus smiled to himself and sighed softly. No longer bothering to hide his weariness, he leaned heavily on the sturdy work table. "Yes, thank you, Wheeljack. I would really appreciate that. I guess I'm a little lower on energy than I thought."

"Oh, it's no trouble! Like I said, I was going anyway, so... Yeah, just make yourself at home. I'll be right back!" The inventor was halfway to the door before he even finished speaking, wings perked up high, excited to help after how nice Optimus had been to him lately. In an instant he was gone, hurrying down the hallway on his errand.

E.L.I. watched his master's hasty departure, then turned to Optimus with a questioning beep. Optimus simply chuckled and gave the drone a comforting pat before settling into a sturdy chair next to the inventor's worktable to wait. He really was more tired than he'd realized. So much so that he slipped offline before he even finished processing the fact.

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When Wheeljack returned from his short errand, he was surprised to find Optimus slumped over in recharge. Unsure how to handle this unexpected development, he stood with a cube of energon in each hand, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he tried to decide wether or not he should wake the larger mech. E.L.I. hovered in between the two mechs and whistled fretfully, clearly just as unsure about the situation as his master. "I dunno, E.L.I. He said he'd been having trouble recharging... I'd hate to wake him 'cause he might have trouble falling offline again, but then if he doesn't have any energon in his system, a recharge cycle won't do him much good..."

He continued his debate internally as he watched the other mech recharge. As much as Optimus may need the energon, Wheeljack was loathe to disturb a mech who was recharging so peacefully, especially when he had been struggling to-

-Optimus stirred minutely, his hands twitching faintly and his intakes stuttering briefly mid-cycle-

-but then maybe Prime wasn't resting quite so peacefully after all. Cybertronians rarely engaged their motor functions at all while in recharge mode unless they were experiencing some sort of glitch, or if motor functions were momentarily triggered by processors in the throws of a particularly distressing dream sequence. In either case, the inventor reasoned that it probably would be best to wake Optimus after all.

Even though he had already resolved himself to his course of action, he hesitated as he approached the larger mech. It felt strange to see Optimus so vulnerable. Of course, he had seen the leader offline due to injury on occasions when he was helping Ratchet in the medical bay, but that wasn't the same as what he saw now. Usually Wheeljack felt an almost overwhelming sense of awe and intimidation in Optimus's presence, even though the leader had never been anything but kind and understanding and fair with him, even when he'd made disastrous mistakes. It wasn't necessarily that he was AFRAID of Optimus. Apart from the first time he'd met Optimus, he'd never really been afraid of him. The larger mech simply seemed to radia te so much strength and confidence that the inventor couldn't help but feel somewhat subdued in his leader's presence.

Now, however, the impressive mech looked as though all of the strength had bled out of him like fluid from a ruptured hydrolic. This massive mech slumped in a battered chair too small for one of his size, fretting minutely as he recharged, was a completely different being. This wasn't the powerful leader recovering in the aftermath of battle, having fought bravely and selflessly to defend the Autobot cause and protect life in all of its many forms. This wasn't the heroic and indestructible Prime. This was just an exhausted soldier like any other, over worked and under energized, looking broken and weary even in recharge. Like so many other mechs he'd seen throughout the seemingly endless duration of this war.

Wheeljack wasn't sure what to make of this new understanding of his leader. On the one hand he felt guilty, like he'd accidentally stumbled across information which was meant to be a closely guarded secret. After all, the Prime was supposed to be a living symbol for his people, righteous and unsurpassable. It just felt inappropriate to see him looking so powerless and ordinary. Surely Optimus wouldn't want to be seen this way by someone like him.

Optimus twitched again, and the engineer set aside his trepidation and quietly approached the sleeping mech. Wheeljack subspaced the energon and gingerly reached out to jostle his leader's shoulder. "Optimus?"

The response was immediate. Optimus snapped online, his systems whirred to life as he got to his feet suddenly, sending the chair tumbling backward into the work table. Blue optics blazed online, and the massive mech stood primed and ready for action, both fists raised in a defensive battle posture. Wheeljack jumped back in surprise, stumbling into a nearby row of shelves, and instinctively raising his arms in a somewhat less dignified defensive pose of his own.

A split second later Optimus had dropped his guard again. One hand clamped over his massive chestplate as he took a step back, slightly shocked and embarrassed at his own behavior. "Wheeljack! I'm so sorry! I must have fallen into recharge! I didn't realize I was so-... I didn't scare you, did I?"

Optimus looked so alarmingly anxious that the inventor found himself forcing out a good-natured chuckle to put the larger mech at ease. "Nah, I'm fine. Just startled, like you, I guess. I, uh..." Retrieving a cube from his subspace, he stepped forward and sheepishly offered it to the other mech. "Here."

"Oh... Thank you so much. I must be a lot lower in energy than I thought to be drifting off so suddenly like that." Optimus accepted the proffered cube, but Wheeljack couldn't help but notice that the leader kept one hand clutched to his chestplate, just above his spark chamber.

"It's no problem, I was happy to do it... Are you alright, Optimus? I mean, aside from being completely energy-drained. Just, your recharge cycle looked a bit... off... Is anything wrong? Can I help?"

Catching himself, Optimus let the telltale hand drop to his side and subspaced the energon. "No, it's nothing to worry about... really, all I need is a cube and a full, uninterrupted recharge cycle, then I'll be back in shape. Now I'd better get to my quarters before I fall offline again right where I stand! Thank you again..." The leader clasped the smaller mech's shoulder briefly as they exchanged valedictions, then departed for his own room. He only hoped that this time his dreams would be mild enough that he could actually stay offline for a complete cycle.

Wheeljack was unconvinced, and worry sat heavy as a stone at the bottom of his spark chamber. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong, and Optimus was hiding it. As much as he wanted to respect his leader's discretion, he also wanted to help in any way he could.

He needed to talk to Ratchet. Though Wheeljack wasn't quite as skilled in the area as Ratchet, he was still considered secondary medical staff. If something was wrong with Optimus, then MEDICALLY he had a right to know, so he could be prepared to deal with it should Ratchet be unavailable. Aside from that, as an inventor, he had a unique perspective when it came to problem-solving. With Ratchet's help, he might be able to find more successful ways to treat whatever affliction beset their Prime.

The engineer left his lab in the direction of the medical bay, the sensors in his shoulder still buzzing faintly from his leader's parting grasp.

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I am so sorry for the horrible wait for this chapter. I hope it wasn't a complete disappointment. 9_9 I've had a lot of Real Life stuff going on, and I've also been struggling with a SERIOUS case of writer's block. _O I want to re-evaluate my outline for this story, but I'll get working on chapter 5 as soon as possible. I'll do my best to update again soon. Until then, let me know what you think. I welcome constructive criticism. Also, if you want to bite my head off for taking so long to write this chapter, that's okay, too. I deserve it. u_u