Fallout
"Keeping a Secret"
by Nan00k

Ha. Ahahahahaha. Yes. This chapter. I've been waiting for you, Awkward Chapter of Awesome Awkwardness. Yesss.

This chapter will bring up yet another relationship subplot that will either make you laugh or cringe. Hopefully, your reaction will be the first one. ;) It takes place anytime after the end of Test.

Many thanks to shantastic again!

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Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Dreamworks. The original characters in this story are mine, however.
Warnings
: character death, violence, foul language, disturbing imagery


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2050 AD
Northern Italy

The day started out very calm. Vortex had enjoyed a remotely quiet morning—Bluestreak had been distracted by some human toy he had discovered in the last human settlement they raided. No one really seemed in the mood for a conversation; they were just peacefully, quietly walking. They were moving through a rather hilly area and stopped for the humans' mid-day meal on top of a large bluff. The skies, tinged brown, were lighter than normal. The sunshine was almost warm.

Vortex would have been content to keep the day peaceful, but the humans got rowdy after their meal. The chatting started up again. It was just mild conversation, however. Vortex sighed, shuttering his optics.

He had to admit, this life was not bad. It could have been better. Slag, everything could have been better. He could have still been with his brothers. He could have still been a soldier in the Decepticon army. They could have still been where they all belonged, on different sides of a war.

But here he was, reclining next to an Autobot inventor and half-listening to organics talk about flowers and wildlife and the ecology of a planet that he should have been plundering. Everything was wrong with this life. But he didn't mind it. He tried to, he honestly tried to… but he just couldn't bring himself to walk away from the group. He expected to wake up every morning to this. He expected to trust in and be trusted by Autobots in a fight for his life.

Primus, this was so wrong.

Vortex glanced over at the humans lazily. They were the largest source of entertainment he had, since he tried not to socialize too much with his own kind. Arcee, the femme, seemed more ready to shoot him than initiate a conversation. Thundercracker dissociated himself from the Decepticons and was reluctant to relate to them in any way, now that he had a new Autobot mate. Said-mate, Jazz was tolerable… sometimes. His personality was grating at times. Bluestreak and Wheeljack were even worse, with their disregard for faction lines and their excessive blabbering that they thought was intelligent conversation.

There was always Wildrider… but Vortex frequently felt that he had a better chance of holding an intelligent discussion with a rock than he did with that mech. Wildrider's processors had not escaped the loss of his gestalt mates as easily as Vortex's had, it seemed.

The humans were different, though. One moment would find Barns joking amicably with Jazz and Bluestreak and the next he would have an academic discussion with Wheeljack and Vortex about the complex nature of a mech's life-support systems and structural design.. Danny was amusing; she seemed to understand that the Decepticons were of a different moral background than the Autobots and she didn't mind hearing the more lurid tales Wildrider and Vortex had to share. She would attempt to "relate," obviously joking around, but she at least tried to understand the Decepticons.

Initially Kass was too quiet for Vortex's liking. She didn't seem like she had any real backbone, considering how she clung to Bluestreak's side whenever something went wrong in the group. She had made quick friends with the other humans, but Vortex doubted there was anything else interesting about her.

But then he saw her in a fight. Ohhh, Vortex had been too quick to judge the tiny femme. For someone so timid, one would never expect a warrior out of her. But she descended onto the battlefield as if she enjoyed being there. She never smiled or mocked her opponents—but the cold, merciless look in her eyes reminded Vortex of one of his own kind. The Vortex in him demanded to know how this was possible…but then Swindle reminded him of what Kass had been though. Her rage was fueled by the loss of her family, funneled into a lust for battle that was strangely not Autobot-like. It was bizarre.

And then there was Rachel. Rachel was… different all together. He had never thought a human would enjoy so many things he enjoyed. While she lacked the fierceness Kass had on the battlefield, Rachel clearly got a thrill out of violence. She fought to protect, of course, but her raw battle cry in the heat of battle always made Vortex shiver. She monopolized the flight suit, as well. She took to the air like a natural and Vortex always found himself staring at the femme as she experimented with the device. And probably the most peculiar fact about her at all had to be that she could make him laugh. She would say things—snarky, Decepticon-like things—that he had never thought a mere organic would think of saying. She was always throwing him for a loop. It thrilled the inner Vortex; he relished the challenge.

Vortex idly listened to the conversation between Wheeljack and the three humans closest to him – Rachel and Kass. They had spent most of the meal time in discussion about how aerodynamic shapes dictated the function of small organic pollinators within Earth's ecology. Vortex's interests were perked immediately when he heard that they would try the flight suit again.

"More practice?" Wheeljack asked amicably, retrieving the tools from his subspace.

Rachel nodded. "I know Jazz doesn't like me wearing them all the time, so I should take all the chances I can get to practice," she said, smirking as she looked over at where the saboteur was napping next to Thundercracker. Both had been on watch duty last night. "He's such a mother hen."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Kass laughed. She sat back down against a rock, watching her friend put on the gear. "Better you than me, anyway. I have no idea how you can stand being in the air without something solid beneath your feet."

"It's like being the air itself," Rachel replied, grinning.

Vortex smiled to himself behind his battle mask. He could easily identify with that statement. He watched silently as the human stood up and activated the suit.

It was impossible to look away. Wheeljack had been correct when he had called the humans graceful. Their bodies bent and twisted in such unnatural ways. They could creep along the grass and foliage as if they were some wild beast, and yet, could spring forward into the open as if propelled by a breeze. He was mesmerized when Rachel was able to translate that physical movement into the air, somewhere she didn't naturally belong.

He hadn't noticed himself sitting upright, but he did find himself staring upwards as Rachel twirled in the air. He saw the curvature of her limbs as she ducked, probably practicing for dodging drones. Rachel was often clumsy on land, but she was flawless when in flight. It was a shame they rarely flew together; she couldn't keep up with him or Thundercracker. Pity.

Vortex's spark tinged. Glancing down at his chestplates, he frowned. There was a strange feeling emanating from his spark. He had often felt it whenever he saw the human flying, but today, it was particularly noticeable. He looked back up at the sky, optics easily seeking out the hovering organic.

The feeling persisted. Vortex shifted uncomfortably, uncertain what the sensation actually was. He tried to focus on the human, but the feeling only grew stronger. It was unsettling. For a moment, Vortex thought perhaps the reason he was feeling it was because he was watching the organic, but that was—

Rachel swung around and then flipped in the air, the magnetic vents of the suit flipping accordingly. Upside down, she grinned and waved at him. Vortex stared back, the feeling surging within his chest like a storm.

Suddenly…he knew.

Oh.

Primus.

No.

Vortex felt a part of his processor crash.

He knew what the emotion was—he had felt it before. He was no freshly sparked youngling. He had had his fair share of lovers and knew the intimacy his own brothers experienced over their bond. Now, standing there, gazing out at the adult human femme, he realized what was going on.

He liked Rachel.

He was attracted to Rachel.

This was not happening. She was organic—she was a human. She wasn't his species, his size, his ally—! She wasn't anything!

Vortex stood up so swiftly, he made the lounging Bluestreak and Wildrider jump. Having every mind to just walk away—and perhaps blow the slag out of some boulders to get this out of his system—Vortex moved quickly in the opposite direction of the humans. He sidestepped the confused Barnaby, ignoring his question about what was wrong.

Vortex knew what was wrong. Everything was wrong with this. They weren't the same species—slag it, they had nothing in common! He was a Decepticon! He was supposed to be annihilating her race! They weren't—!

"Vortex!" he heard the woman call. "Where are you going?"

Spinning on his pedes, Vortex opened his mouth to snarl something at her to get to her to leave him alone. He didn't want to be near her—he didn't want to look at her horrible, rotten, pit-spawned face—

Rachel hovered just a few feet in front of him, eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, completely and utterly honest.

Every nasty thing he wanted to say died instantly without ever reaching his vocalizer. Vortex wasn't sure exactly what happened, but he assumed he had taken a hurried step away from the strangely attractive—ORGANIC, TINY, HUMAN—creature when he lost his footing. Two seconds later, Vortex was looking back up at the sky, back flat against the grassy surface of the bottom of the ravine. He could hear the humans shouting and the sound of mechs approaching.

Everything was wrong now. The situation, his position in it—none of this should have been happening.

But… it was. Vortex tried to calm his raging processors and soothe his pulsating spark. He had long since accepted the fact that he was there, with Autobots and humans alike, and he had to work with them to survive. He had just recently accepted the fact that this was reality now and he had better play nice with all of them, even the humans.

This was the last straw, though. This…was completely and utterly…

"Vortex!" shouted Barnaby, as he, Wheeljack and Rachel appeared over the edge of the hill. "Are you all right?"

He desperately wanted to tell the truth, that he was not all right. But that meant admitting something that he himself couldn't bear to believe. Not only would it destroy every last semblance of who he had been before all this happened, but it would ruin their dynamic as a group. He had grown reliant on the group and his status as a member, a teammate. He couldn't risk losing that because of this.

Ironic – he'd spent millennia forcing others to reveal their secrets – now he had to keep a secret of his own from everyone around him.

Vortex let his head fall back onto the grass.

This would not be easy to get over.

00000

He lasted five days. For five days, he kept to himself and refused to stay anywhere near the humans. He had spent nearly a year trying to gain their good graces; he thought it had been because they offered a form of companionship he could find nowhere else. Now, he realized that at least part of that had been driven by a subconscious need to get close to Rachel, spend time with her. With his optics unshuttered to his own desire he was better prepared to fight those urges.

The organics had been shooting him awkward looks ever since his less-than-graceful tumble down the hill and his subsequent exile from their presence. It wasn't like they were completely separated – they all moved together during the day, but Vortex refused to sit near them at times of rest, and he wouldn't answer any but the most necessary questions. Eventually, they stopped trying to get him to communicate like he normally would.

Of course, it wasn't just the humans who traveled with him, and several of the mechs in the group were dangerously perceptive. He tried to cover his change in behavior by talking more with the other mechs, and by continuing to play some of the group games while they walked. He even forced himself to have a boring conversation with Bluestreak and Wheeljack, who were far too chatty for his own tastes.

But that wasn't enough, in the end, to get him out of the sights of the most socially observant mech in their presence. Like a scavenger could sense a freshly slaughtered refugee camp, Jazz could sense social drama from kilometers away.

"Hey, Vortex, what's happening?" Jazz asked smoothly, sliding up to the larger Decepticon as if he weren't larger and weren't a Decepticon.

Vortex grunted. "Nothing." In reality, he was forcing himself to not look at Rachel's backside. She's not even my fraggin' size! A tiny ORGANIC! Primus Almighty!

Jazz grinned at the mech. "Aw, okay." He laughed, walking a bit further ahead. "If ya want to talk, lemme know, 'kay? You're scaring the kids."

'Kids' was a little outdated to be used concerning the humans, Vortex mused. They were all mature adults for their species. That was a least a little bit comforting when he acknowledged his attraction to one of them. Better now than earlier in their travels…

They made camp later than usual and Vortex huddled as far away from the campfire and humans as possible, using the natural flora as a curtain. He was prepared for another lonely night. Sadly, he wasn't going to get one.

Jazz had talked and joked cheerfully with the humans most of the afternoon, but as soon as they started cooking their meal, he'd turned and made a beeline for Vortex's position. The Decepticon helicopter growled, but couldn't do much else.

He really, really didn't want this situation to be happening.

"Why are ya exilin' yerself?" Jazz joked, peering down at the seated helicopter. "I swear, they got their shots an' flea baths. They don't bite neither."

Vortex had no idea what the mech was talking about, and didn't care. He glared at Jazz. "Go away. I wish to have solitude."

"You're avoiding the humans." Vortex almost jumped when Thundercracker appeared behind Jazz. The larger Decepticon had been sending him questioning stares all day.

Slagggggg it.

"They're annoying," Vortex snapped. He contemplated his chances of escaping the small clearing, but both mechs were quick.

Jazz smiled sadly. "Aw, come on, 'Tex, we're just concerned. You were fine with them earlier this week. Why are ya suddenly organic-shy?"

"I don't want to talk to you about it," Vortex said. He flinched when Thundercracker took a heavy seat right next to Jazz. Both were seated across from him as if they were watching some sort of spectacle.

"Aaah," Jazz began, grinning widely, "so there is a problem." He looked positively cheerful about that.

Vortex growled. "Frag off," he snarled, turning away.

"Seriously, Vortex," Jazz tried again, earnest. "If ya got somethin' to tell us, speak yer mind. We're here for ya." Vortex ignored the plaintive, Autobot-like stare he was being given.

"… You're an Autobot," Vortex tried, knowing it was hopeless. Jazz wouldn't give up.

Jazz sighed dramatically. "Come on, Vortex, is that really yer best excuse? Come on." He leaned forward, optics blazing with honest concern. It was sickening. "Tell us. I know it's somethin' serious."

The Autobot had no idea how bad this was. But…Vortex glanced at Jazz, and the observing Thundercracker, and knew that out of all of them, perhaps they would understand the most. They had each other as romantic companions and knew the trials of attraction on a battlefield.

They were also quite close to Rachel. Maybe… they could give him some advice. Vortex scowled at his patheticness… but the thought didn't go away.

Oh, what the frag. He didn't have much to lose.

"… You promise not to hit me?" he asked at great length, optics meeting optics.

That earned him a laugh. "Unless ya did somethin' really dumb, I won't hit you," Jazz replied, smiling. "What's up?"

Deciding the best route was to, as Barns would say, 'bite the bullet,' Vortex tilted his head.

"I'm in love with Rachel," he said pointedly.

True to his word, Jazz did not hit Vortex.

Thundercracker did. With his cannon.

00000

The humans, cooking their meal over the fire, looked up in startled shock as Vortex came tearing out of the brush, a roaring Thundercracker on his heels, the larger Decepticon swearing violently in Cybertronian. Wildrider, Wheeljack, Arcee and Bluestreak stared at the chaos for a moment before reacting. Wildrider descended into hysterical laughter, Bluestreak frowned in confusion, Arcee dropped her head into her open hands, and Wheeljack looked stricken.

"What the hell did we miss?" Kass exclaimed, stunned. Vortex and Thundercracker had disappeared, but the crashing and screeching was loud enough that the humans had to shout to be heard.

Jazz stepped out from where Vortex and Thundercracker appeared, looking not quite his usual self. He looked more like he had just spotted a hoard of drones. He noticed the humans and quickly put on his general happy-go-lucky persona, laughing about "crazy mechs."

"Uh…Jazz?" Barns asked, peering out into the woods, where Thundercracker and Vortex were still making a racket. At least there wasn't any gunfire. Yet. "Aren't you…ah, going to stop TC from killing Vortex?"

"He won't kill him," Jazz said plainly, sitting behind Rachel and then promptly picking the human up and placing her on his lap. She gawked at him, affronted, but Jazz ignored her. "So, what were you guys talking about?" he asked with forced cheer.

"Put me down!" Rachel demanded. She made a frustrated sound when Jazz ignored her and just kept her in his gentle grip.

Danny, Barns, and Kass exchanged wary glances. Behind the group, they could hear stomping—something crashing into a tree—and more electronic screeching. Abruptly the noise stopped and the forest fell quiet.

Danny slowly turned back to Jazz, who was holding tight to a seething Rachel, clearly ignoring the woman's growing anger and discomfort. "… Aren't you going to… like… stop TC from hurting Vortex?" she asked, disturbed by the Autobot's nonchalance.

Jazz didn't even flinch. "He won't kill him," he said, as if that made it better. He was still ignoring Rachel who was slapping her hands on the hand cupping her against his chest.

The humans all exchanged bewildered, alarmed looks. The mechs and Arcee made it a point to not look at each other, even when Vortex came skittering out of the brush and huddled on the other side of the camp, far, far away from where the humans were seated. Thundercracker emerged shortly after, optics blaringly bright, his engines growling. He sat down between Jazz and where Vortex collapsed and all but sent laser beams of rage out of his eyes toward the meek helicopter.

All of the humans, including Rachel who hung awkwardly in Jazz's grasp, stared at the two, speechless. The awkward silence could have been cut with a knife.

"We good?" Jazz asked brightly, looking around at everyone. Vortex shrank down further. Jazz beamed. "Good!"

Danny and Barns just stared at him, and Kass decided to scooch a little further from the mechs than usual that evening. Rachel finally escaped Jazz's clutches and latched onto Danny and Kass for the rest of the night, giving every mech that came near her a suspicious stare.

It was an awkward night's rest, for everyone.

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Keeping a Secret end.

Next: A playful incident has near-disastrous results for Danny and Wildrider.


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