AN: I didn't realize how long this chapter had gotten until loading it here so have a sandwich or a coffee ready. I'll try not to be making them so long going forward, but I didn't really want to cut this one in half anywhere. Also, another explanation about the sudden change in Allison's tone. I realize it's probably jarring, but after spending a great deal of time away from this tale and coming back to it with a fresh perspective I realized I needed to change some things up. Call it, life perspectives. It's still not perfect, but the intention here is to start (hopefully) setting her up to be a stronger character for the climax and for future tales should I get that far. I have some ideas for where I want to take things, so I'm starting to lay some groundwork here.
Thanks for reading, and thanks to those of you who stuck around this long after a long absence!
Once his immediate frustrations had been somewhat dealt with, Wheeljack finally stopped his overworked, scattered processor long enough to remember that Allison had been present and unusually aloof since first coming into contact with her at the Decepticon mine. Satisfied that Sunstreaker was more than aware of how unimpressed he was with his little indiscretion, Wheeljack knew that it was time to lay some other pressing matters to rest as well, and that was determining how Allison was faring.
Bumblebee gestured to where it was assumed Allison had walked off to, so Wheeljack found himself squeezing between two falling buildings that were long in disrepair. There was just barely enough room for him to pass through, the walkway obviously not meant to accommodate a being of his size, but he managed with little rearranging of his gait.
His optics searched the open space of grass on the other side, but Allison wasn't immediately found. A small tendril of guilt slithered through him, realizing that he'd more or less lost it right in front of her, and she'd almost become an afterthought. Ignoring her had never been his intention, but he'd been so angry and focused on working out that anger that his sensory array had tunneled. Walking away had been logical; he'd walked away from his fair share of arguments between the Autobots whether or not he'd been involved, because being forced outside of an argument that you wanted to stop was frustrating to endure. The only thing that had mattered was making sure Sunstreaker knew that he'd done something unforgivable, regardless of Allison inadvertently being a part of it.
CRACK
There was a sound up ahead and to Wheeljack's left, like the impact of something small against a hollow surface. He followed the sound and found himself around the other side of the smaller, crumpled building on the left. There were a number of scattered, rotting barrels littering the space that lined the edge of the trees, and Allison was there with her back to him.
They hadn't had a chance to really speak since the… incident, and there had been such a rush to get out of the Decepticon line of fire that he'd probably appeared very cold with her earlier. Then in the flurry of activity with Breakdown, the altercation with Sunstreaker, and Starscream—
Primus… Starscream…
He hadn't even had the opportunity to really address that with her yet, why Starscream was here. At least he hadn't had the chance to properly explain what had been going on in his processor once he'd learned of what Sunstreaker had done. Wheeljack imagined she had many questions. He also imagined that having many questions, while being ignored had probably not been palatable. She'd been around Knock Out, of all 'Cons to be stuck with, and he could only really imagine what she'd gone through; nothing pleasant, judging from his own experience. He'd had his own fair share of run-ins with Knock Out, but he'd always managed to come away unharmed. It was hard to tell with Allison.
Allison was showing a surprising amount of strength given the circumstances, and Wheeljack hadn't really seen her crack since Bumblebee had shown up with her in tow at the Decepticon mine. She'd been relieved to see him, but she'd barely spoken. She didn't fall apart. In fact, she appeared to be as blank of a canvas as he'd ever seen her. He knew her well enough to know that she had something on her mind, and she was probably not taking his inability to listen to her lightly. In other words, he was probably in the dog house.
CRACK
Wheeljack saw Allison lob what looked like a small stone at one of the sagging, whitened out walls. The hollow sound had been the impact of the smaller projectile against the aging wood of the building, now overrun with climbing vines and vegetation as the surrounding forest started to take the area back. She didn't react to his approach, but knelt down to the ground to scoop up what looked like one of many small rocks that surrounded her. Wheeljack didn't entirely understand the purpose of such an activity. He used his own unusual means of escape to think out a difficult equation, or ponder through getting a specific engineering model right, but throwing things was never really on the activity menu—unless he was angry.
A mixture of emotions passed through the Autobot all at once: relief, guilt, but most of all a deeply instinctive feeling of compassion for her that compelled him to leave her at peace. He couldn't bring himself to walk away, not wanting to let her out of his sight after everything that had happened. At the same time he hesitated, not entirely sure what he was walking into. The unevenness of her motions coupled with the stiffness in her shoulders when she threw that next stone told him that she was experiencing something profound, something that he couldn't even imagine as he watched her in silence. It didn't seem right to disturb her, or particularly smart, because he had the barest suspicion that it involved him.
For the moment she was safe, and that was all that mattered. Wheeljack told himself that this whole time, he'd only had her best interest in mind, but was he lying to himself? What had been his motivations really? Surely he cared deeply about her safety—it was as deeply ingrained into him now as much as the need to tinker and create, and a part of the very fabric that made up who he was. His goal had been to get to her, to protect her, and to keep her out of harm's way.
But he'd acted impulsively, as was his way, to sometimes not quite think a plan entirely through before jumping head-first into the unknown. He'd always thrived on that chaotic unknowing, which was why a lot of his experiments often worked too well; often with explosive results, because he didn't always take the time to work through other possibilities: safety measures, probable outcomes, practicality against what was more complex but maybe more exciting, but more importantly disregard for restraint. He just did what felt right.
Was bringing Starscream really the right call? Was breaking protocol, disobeying a direct order and breaking a prisoner out of Autobot custody a wise decision, or had he acted under a selfish need to simply get what he wanted—needed—turning a blind eye to his discomfort with even the thought of the Decepticon so much as thinking about Allison. Her attempts to tell him that she was fine hadn't put him at ease then. He outright knew that her comfort levels with a Decepticon who had tried to kill her that was also behind bars was not the same as a Decepticon free and out in the open and perfectly capable of playing any number of games he wished with her. He hadn't been thinking about how she'd feel about it, he'd only thought about himself. He hadn't been thinking about her at all.
Primus, was he a selfish Autobot? Was he arrogant enough to think that only his feelings had mattered? Surely rescuing Allison had served her well, because she was alive, but his means had been questionable. He'd gotten lucky, because what if Bumblebee and Sideswipe hadn't have been there? What if he'd been forced to venture further into the Decepticon lair on his own, with nothing but a scheming, conniving lunatic at his back (and in the interest of being honest, how much of a fool was he for even entertaining the notion for a blip of a cycle that Starscream would not have stabbed him in the back the first chance he got)? He'd willingly put himself at risk, knowing the stakes, knowing the Decepticons wanted him and were aware he was stupid enough to do exactly what they wanted without thinking things through. They would have gotten him, let Starscream go and killed Allison and Sunstreaker, and he would have put the entire Autobot team at risk. But instead, Wheeljack had acted on pure, dumb luck.
Separate, but wholly connected to that, was his agenda with Sunstreaker. That Autobot had needed to know how Wheeljack felt, and he hadn't cared who'd listened. Allison had been yelling at him to stop, having been through enough, knowing that Sunstreaker had suffered more than enough for what he'd done, but he hadn't cared. He'd wanted Sunstreaker to pay and that was it. He'd ignored everything else, only thinking about what he'd wanted because in that moment of pure primal urgency nothing else mattered.
Primus, he was selfish.
"I'm not deaf, I know you're there," Allison finally said, her back still turned while Wheeljack was thinking things through as a miserable pang of guilt settled itself at the base of his spark. Allison's voice was soft and strangely even, but her inability to turn and look at him was very telling. "Unlike you it would seem."
Wheeljack definitely was in trouble then.
"I guess you caught me then," Wheeljack offered, trying to sound encouraging as he rubbed his head absently with a murky froth of unpleasant thoughts churning in his processor. Finally, Allison turned, just barely edging her body to look at him sideways. She might have been hiding something from him, or thinking she was hiding it, but he already knew that the side of her face was bruised. It had likely been from Knock Out taking her car out, or… from something else, but he knew it had been better to leave her physical condition alone for a time that was more appropriate—he admitted to himself that he really hadn't thought about her physical condition aside from the base observation that she was alive. It had completely escaped him, and his throat tubing made a light squelching sound of unease as he tightened his jaw at this realization.
It was either her desire to not distress him further that Allison didn't completely face him, or she just couldn't stomach looking at him for the time being, which wasn't exactly the better possibility. "Look, I know you're upset with me and I'm sorry I wasn't listening. You've been through a lot... and I didn't want to get you caught up in my own anger problems..."
"Well, thank you for that concern," Allison said, finally turning to face him. Her face wasn't as banged up as he'd first expected, but she didn't seem to be concerned with that anyway. Mottled, purple bruising was just starting to form along the ridge of her cheek bone and her lip was split on the bottom, leaving an unusual mark on her frown. Her eyes were very focused on him, and it was an expression he wasn't used to seeing on her face. It wasn't indifference, but it straddled a line between resignation and resolution. "I have a voice. It's time you started listening for it."
"Maybe I got a little overzealous," Wheeljack admitted, shifting on his feet. "I was so angry. I still am, I guess." He looked back in the direction he'd come from where the other Autobots were still congregated.
The conversation he'd had with Sunstreaker, hearing how the Autobot felt, hadn't helped to make sense of what had been done. If anything, it actually made him feel worse, knowing that the younger Autobot was so… lost was really the only word to describe it, and Wheeljack didn't even think that was powerful enough. He felt immeasurably sad; for Sunstreaker, for Sideswipe, for himself, but most of all, for Allison who'd had to bear the weight of another's insecurities and deal with his own subsequent irresponsible self-importance. He'd thought that they were stronger than that, but apparently he'd been wrong. He'd even surprised himself with half of what he'd said to counter Sunstreaker's unusual levels of prejudice.
"I'm just glad to see you're safe, Allison" Wheeljack admitted, wrestling with a need to go near her and the uncertainty as to whether or not his proximity was welcome. Instead he compromised and knelt down carefully where he stood. It was a start, getting closer to her level but also keeping a safe distance should that new rock in her hand find itself on course for his face. He searched for something to say. "When I heard about what Sunstreaker had done I—"
"Please," Allison said, raising a hand to cut him off, a forced smile only half managing to form on her face before slipping into a grimace. He wasn't sure if it was from pain, or from something even deeper. "It happened, and nothing can change that. But it's over for now." Wheeljack knew that there was more on the subject to address at a later date.
"I'm sorry I let this happen. I'm sorry you had to see whatever that was back there. I didn't mean to..." Wheeljack struggled to find the right wording, lowering his head with embarrassment. In the heat of the moment he'd completely forgotten that she had been listening to him and Sunstreaker work out aggressively what had happened. "I've never been the most practically responsible Autobot. If you ever needed evidence, I guess this is as damning as it's going to get." Wheeljack shrugged halfheartedly, but the action was measurably more intense from Allison's perspective. "The short of the long is; I need to do a better job listening to you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long."
"No, don't be sorry," Allison said, the tension in her face evening out to something more relaxed as she eased up in his presence, a natural reaction to his admissions. "This wasn't your fault. I had to walk away though. I didn't need to hear anymore. There's only so much of a negative experience you can relive at once."
"I feel like it is," Wheeljack replied. "I'm supposed to be protecting you. I was upset with you this morning, and at first I'd thought you left intentionally because you were mad at me." He said truthfully, optics dimming.
Allison smiled. The reaction to his words took him by surprise, and his initial thought process was maybe she was so mad that her brain wasn't operating properly, causing the wrong expression to play across her face. But as she continued to shake her head, he realized that it wasn't a mistake. Allison seemed to be working something out in her head, expression thoughtful. She pursed her lips after a moment of quiet, finally turning back to meet his optics with resilience in her stare.
"Wheeljack, I'm not mad at you. I was never mad at you."
Finally she walked over to him, bridging the uncertain distance between them that had been lingering since he'd found her. There was still a tension that needed to be diffused, and problems that needed addressing, that much was obvious, but Wheeljack was having a hard time instigating that conversation. As she walked closer she bent down and picked up a stick, letting it drag along the dusty, packed ground. She was making deliberate, consciously placed outlines in the dirt, even though Wheeljack couldn't discern any visible pattern to them.
"I understood why you were upset. This whole thing—" She stabbed at the ground with the stick. "—Just sort of happened. He ambushed me, and then took me." She faltered, obviously intentionally leaving out details for his sake. He had no misconceptions that Sunstreaker probably hadn't been delicate with her, and she probably thought she was doing him a favor by not telling him. Truthfully, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know, and it was probably safer for Sunstreaker if he didn't. "But then I think some part of him, even if it's very, very tiny, realized that what he did was wrong. He came back for me. Eventually, but he did come back."
"And then you got captured," Wheeljack reminded her, but instantly regretted simply blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you that I could have prevented," he back-peddled, trying to focus the conversation away from the immediate topic of capture. Allison however looked like she'd left the conversation as her eyes went hazy. She said nothing in response to this, but her shoulders tightened as she let the stick fall back to the ground, which said enough.
"That's just it though. You can't prevent everything." Allison's response was quiet, but it was the loudest words Wheeljack thought he'd ever heard her speak. She didn't elaborate, but he sensed a train of thought in the tracks of her brain, and even a lowly maintenance drone could have put the pieces together to work out what she was actually saying in the spaces between her words. It was clear she feared for her safety, and he didn't like the veiled meaning beneath her words, namely, the subject of her mortality.
After a few moments he spoke quietly, vocal panels failing to react.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you…" Wheeljack knew something was wrong, he was starting to see the picture beneath the puzzle, but her unwillingness to share with him what was really going on was not putting him at ease. Perhaps he was being paranoid. He still didn't completely know what she'd experienced, or what she'd seen, or felt. She could have been simply rattled, shaking off lingering fear and adrenaline. He wasn't Ratchet, and while he could perform basic scans to make sure she wasn't going to suffer from any immediate concerns, he could do nothing for whatever emotional trauma she'd endured.
"Wheeljack, you can't be there all the time." Allison's sentence had a finality to it. It was clear she was trying to inject into his head what he himself knew was simply fact. Her eyes were sad, indicative that it didn't make her happy to admit it, but she didn't try to hide it. "What you need to concentrate on is that you're here now." She didn't elaborate on this, but her voice had gone quiet as if waiting for him to respond.
"I know," Wheeljack offered quietly, watching Allison's pale eyes shift with uncertainty. "I just wish I could have been there sooner. I just can't let anything happen to ya."
Allison broke eye contact first, nodding sullenly as her mouth pulled sideways in a barely enthusiastic smile. She was looking past him, back from where she'd come from; back where the others were waiting, including Starscream. That brought a pressing matter to the foreground.
"Ah—yeah. About Starscream… I need to explain," Wheeljack blurted quickly with some guilt, making Allison's gaze snap back onto him. "You must think I'm crazy, trusting that 'Con and bringing him here, but I thought—"
"That doesn't matter." Allison said loudly in an effort to interrupt him, which worked. Her voice held more command now, something Wheeljack hadn't heard in a long time. It was clear she was trying to gain control of the discussion in an attempt to wrangle it onto the right track. "I get it. You probably didn't know what to do, so you acted instinctively."
"Are you—" Wheeljack didn't get very far before Allison cut him off sharply.
"We don't need to talk about it." Admittedly Allison's response left Wheeljack a little taken aback, which was something that didn't happen often. He didn't know what to say in response to her bluntness. He'd expected more of an argument over Starscream, but instead she was brushing it off as if it hardly mattered. It mattered to him, so he was having a hard time deciding if he should be offended.
But Wheeljack knew he had his own biases against the Decepticon, and he didn't need to start pressing those on Allison as well. He was sure she wasn't going to make friends with Starscream anytime soon, but he'd let her decide how she wanted to feel without telling her how he thought she should feel. At the very least, he needed to give her time.
Allison's eyes finally softened, after what had seemed like an entire conversation of cold glances and tension, but something had finally eased up inside her. She brought a hand to the side of her face and exhaled deeply, the rosy flush on her skin beginning to pale against the cool air of the evening.
"I hit my head when the car went over," Allison said quietly, offering an explanation that was likely a reaction to his concerned expression. It was superficial, and would heal in time, but it probably had hurt. Wheeljack however was impressed by her ability to shrug it off. "Not really something I intend to repeat."
"Yeah," Wheeljack responded, knowing that particular expression sounded dumb under these circumstances but he didn't know what else to say. He was still feeling a disruption in his spark that was making it somewhat hard to think. Allison wasn't telling him something, she was being evasive and changing the subject, but he couldn't quite place what was wrong or what the best way was to fix it.
That was part of the problem though. Allison wasn't a machine, or an experiment that could just be fixed. She was a human being, with thoughts and feelings that were vastly more complex than he was giving them credit for, and the light years between them had never been more apparent until that very moment. There was something getting lost in translation that Wheeljack just knew he should be seeing but he wasn't. He felt very much like a sparkling with no comprehension of what he was supposed to do and suddenly Allison felt more alien to him than she ever had. Wheeljack found that very upsetting; most of all, that he couldn't fix it.
"When can we leave?" Allison finally approached one of the more pressing topics at hand, but it was more obvious now than before that she was hastily trying to change the subject with a shrug. "Because I'd really like to not be here anymore."
"I don't want to be this close to a Decepticon outpost any more than you do, but I'm afraid Sunstreaker is not fit for travel right now. I don't think Sideswipe will last much longer either. Frankly, I'm inclined to leave them both here to rust..." Wheeljack said dourly, looking over his shoulder in exasperation as he followed her queue to discuss something else. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't going to harass Allison either.
Allison apparently was in no mood to be harassed anyway, because he felt a light slap on his arm that could have only come from her. She'd finally closed the distance between them completely and had her eyes narrowed to unimpressed slits.
"What?" Wheeljack asked, defensively. "If Sideswipe is dumb enough to attempt a spark transfer in the middle of a Decepticon base, then I say let him stay."
Allison looked at Wheeljack disapprovingly. "Dumb enough? Sideswipe may very well have saved Sunstreaker's life."
Wheeljack nodded, as if this somehow emboldened his perspective. "I know. The only reason why Sunstreaker is walking is because Sideswipe shared some of his spark energy with him, putting his own life in great peril. It was completely reckless and irresponsible."
"It's also an incredibly brave and selfless thing to do. You do reckless things all the time, and the fact that I know this having only met you for a small fraction of the time you've been around is very telling of how often you do it," Allison grumbled, but her words were laced with the needed mirth that had been sorely lacking the last several minutes. It had felt like hours of them staring one another down without knowing what to really say to each other. Wheeljack was just happy to see light return to her eyes. "Like running off and taking on Soundwave all by yourself for starters."
"That... was a completely different situation." Wheeljack tried, realizing he didn't really have a leg to stand on. "Fine, I see your point, but it was still stupid, and right now those two could use a swift kick into reality after all the trouble they've caused." Allison did not look quite as convinced, and Wheeljack couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't completely furious with either of the twins after what she'd been through.
"Please don't take your anger out on Sideswipe, Wheeljack," Allison said with a partial smile. "He was just trying to save his brother. I get the impression he was as confused as everyone else when he found out what Sunstreaker had done. And I imagine you probably scared the hell out of him when you found out."
"There might have been a little shock, yes," Wheeljack admitted, remembering a distinct threat to shove a hand grenade down another Autobot's throat and detonate it. "I'm pretty sure Sunstreaker got the point too," he added, starting to come to terms with the potency of his anger. Things had changed inside him ever since Allison had come into his life. Sure, he'd gotten angry on plenty occasions before when things didn't go quite right, or when he didn't agree with Autobot higher command (which happened often). But his anger had never felt so raw before. The bond was changing him, for better, and for worse, and it was something he'd need to get a handle on.
Perhaps, that was what Allison was seeing and what she was trying to stop. She'd seen what had happened between him and Sunstreaker, and by proxy Sideswipe, first-hand and it had scared her. Now that he had time to calmly contemplate himself, it scared him too. He'd looked into Sunstreaker's optics in an angry, detached haze and hadn't even really seen what was there beneath and what the object of his rage was projecting. Reflecting with a clear mind, Wheeljack recognized that Sunstreaker had always been a cacophony of battling emotions, but never had he seen such humiliated guilt before. Sunstreaker wouldn't yet admit it, but he very well may have learned from this mistake, and Wheeljack knew that ultimately that was important.
"I know you're angry at Sunstreaker. And you have every right to be, but he's lonely, Wheeljack. He feels like he only has himself and his brother out here, and when I look at him all I see is a broken spirit."
Allison arguably recognized what Wheeljack had been pondering—Sunstreaker could be redeemed—and her compulsion to request that he see past betrayal-ridden judgments was also changing him, challenging him even. After already convincing him to spare Starscream's life once, getting him to be at peace with Sunstreaker and his slightly less guilty brother further compounded the fact that Allison was far more complicated than he ever imagined; she wasn't just a mathematical equation that he could ponder over and solve. That was something he could understand. This was something entirely new, and he was starting to realize that he had no place to expect her to feel any certain way about anything.
The Decepticon certainly hadn't deserved the mercy she'd shown him, not with the endless list of his crimes. While the twins didn't share the same record of achievements, it was still hard to believe that she would be so quick to try and see reason. This level of compassion was something he would have never expected, but he found that it made him respect her… maybe even garner a little bit of fascination. There was another word it could have been but Wheeljack had a difficult time equating such a human word to something he was feeling.
Cybertronians did not often use the word love, even though they felt the same emotions outside of the physical interpretations of that word. What he felt now, if he thought like a human and removed himself from the equation—really looked at it from a base level of inquiry and observation separate from his participation in it—he could describe it as love.
For a moment, he contemplated saying it, but fearing how Allison would react he remained silent. He knew she wouldn't misinterpret him, in that his love was different, but he still didn't know how she would receive such an admission. Especially now, when they were still somewhat at odds and she looked so hurt and lost. He vaguely wondered if that was what he saw in her eyes. He remembered a moment when he'd been about to kill Starscream, and that look had been there while she begged him to stop.
It was probably best to leave it all alone for now, until he could better understand how she was feeling before he started splurging sentiments that might appear unusual coming from him. Maybe she just needed time to recover. Maybe she had hit her head harder than she had thought and simply needed the opportunity to let it pass and come to terms with what was going on. It was also a possibility that he was lying to himself for the sake of comfort, and what he'd always feared in the back of his processor was the real reason he wasn't saying anything.
But he had to know something.
"Allison," he said quietly, but he kept his voice firm with resolve. His vocal indicators remained dim when he spoke, willed to their own silence by near-whispering levels of his voice and the disturbing fluctuations in his spark. There was nothing cheerful about what he was feeling now, and ever an impression of his mood, they responded in kind. "I think it's best if I just come out and ask you something that I've been sensing from you, and it's gonna kill me if I don't ask now."
The line of Allison's mouth thinned as she watched him, seeming to stall in breath as if waiting for some kind of bad news. Or perhaps she knew what he was about to say because he was right, and it was indeed on her mind. She nodded. "Sure."
"I know that there are times when you feel like you don't belong; that you don't have an identity, or any say in what happens with your life," Wheeljack started, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to be saying them, but as he'd slowly started to put the pieces together in his head over the last several minutes the grim conclusion was that they needed to be said. Allison's reaction was one of quiet surprise, her eyes opening just a touch wider for a moment as her lips parted as if to speak. She didn't get a chance to. "I know it's not all the time, but there are moments when you feel the difference between our species can cause some sense of...exclusion. And I don't blame you for feeling that way. While I never went through anything quite to the same extent, I've experienced that state of being on the outside looking in. I want you to know that asking you to come with me was never meant to remove you from your own existence and trap you. But, I've been careless and that's probably what's been happening."
"Your war, Wheeljack," Allison started quietly, her voice a near-whisper of something regretful. That made his spark feel heavy with all sorts of frightful conclusions. Strange enough, Allison didn't elaborate on what she meant by such a statement, but she didn't need to. Especially with her words that followed. "And… Sari. A child in a world she doesn't completely understand. She needs some control over what happens to her, especially now in this stage in her life. She needs to not just be an extension of Bumblebee, but to have her own voice and an identity. I need an identity…"
"You're right." Wheeljack held his head low, rubbing at the bridge of his helmet against his brow in a worrying fashion, uncertain of what to say. "You need your space, the choice to find your own way. I mean, Primus sometimes I can't stand being around the others and just need to feel disconnected from it all, but it doesn't mean I don't care. It was wrong of me smother you and to involve you in all this fighting. You're—not a soldier, never were and never will be and to think that—" He didn't really understand what he was trying to say.
"That isn't what I meant," Allison's voice was higher, more pronounced in an effort to cut into what was turning into a ramble on his part, and Wheeljack heard something very specific changing in her tone that told him she was experiencing an emotional response on a poignant level. "I came with you willingly, because I was overcome with what you are and the power you possessed… I just wanted something for myself to change and I guess I was… kind of enamored with you, still am I guess, but every time something like this happens it's just obvious that it—"
"—But I needed you, and it was wrong of me to expect you to throw everything away." Wheeljack stopped abruptly, realizing that something was very wrong, and this went far deeper than a temporary bout of regret on Allison's part as she suddenly covered her face with both of her hands. She was shaking her head, working up some resolve inside herself to speak, to possibly come clean with something that had been festering for some time. Her breath hitched, a muffled warble from beneath the shelter of her hands that told him that she was crying, and now it was his turn to feel lost. Primus, what am I supposed to do now? How did humans deal with this kind of thing?
"Wheeljack." Allison stopped, showing her face with a shaken look of urgency as her eyes were nearly overcome with the reflection of the moonlight against the moisture within. She was shifting with sudden agitation, looking resigned to follow through with something within herself. "I need to tell you something—"
"Wheeljack!" The Autobot turned angrily at the intrusion of his name being called, looking for the source of the interruption as Bumblebee came clamoring into the clearing in a stumbling run. He had half a mind to bark an offended response right back at Bumblebee, feeling downright territorial and ready to make it known that he was displeased, but when he saw the urgent fear in the scout's optics he knew he couldn't. Bumblebee was agitated, wings twitching as his focus immediately locked on Wheeljack before he spoke.
"You need to get over here, now! Sunstreaker collapsed and he's not responding—" Bumblebee's voice was high; he was panicking, and Wheeljack knew that as the only Autobot with even a fraction of field repair training that meant whatever Allison needed to say would have to wait. This made Wheeljack frustrated and uncomfortable. He hated unresolved equations.
Allison was looking at him sharply, with her face rearranged to intentionally hide her emotion and appear stoic in the interest of urgency. She knew what was required of him and the worry that suddenly passed over her eyes told him that she could wait, because she cared. She nodded heavily to him and pointed roughly in the vague direction of where Sunstreaker possibly was. It was almost a command, an order for him to forget about what was on her mind for the sake of another Autobot. While Wheeljack didn't want to, begrudgingly he knew that he needed to. He was not going to let this go, however, but he found a way to approve of her empathy under the circumstances.
Wheeljack gave Bumblebee a rough glare, unavoidable, but quickly stood and let the scout lead him back to where the other Autobots had taken rest. He could see the commotion even before stepping out into the deserted plaza. Sunstreaker was on the ground, having collapsed against the crumbled fountain with optics that were shuttered and dark; he was experiencing a critical shutdown. Wheeljack's only surprised thought was that it had taken this long for it to happen, but Sunstreaker had always been remarkably resilient. The only movements of his body came from Sideswipe's jerking attempts to rouse him out of whatever stasis he had fallen under. Starscream watched them from a safe distance behind, his expression unusually appraising as his focus shifted between each twin sequentially.
Sideswipe had to be forced away and held reassuringly at bay by Bumblebee as Wheeljack knelt down quickly over Sunstreaker's prone form, immediately setting to work on his own meager abilities to scan Autobot vitals. He was the only one amongst them with even a base knowledge of emergency Cybertronian care, having helped Ratchet in his medbay on multiple occasions throughout the war. It was immediately apparent however that whatever was wrong with Sunstreaker wasn't in the same league as performing diagnostic scans and handing Ratchet equipment, occasionally holding a wire or a hand for comfort. That he could do, even if it wasn't entirely as precise as their medic was capable of doing. Wheeljack could build machines and put things together, but Cybertronian physiology wasn't exactly the same as welding a bunch of metal scraps in place.
In their current predicament however, Ratchet was miles away, and Wheeljack was the only one of them who had any experience at all. He was the only one with the technical know-how and memory to even attempt to stabilize Sunstreaker, and he would have to improvise. This was a rare situation where Wheeljack didn't like it, because a life other than his was in the balance.
Sunstreaker's vitals were all dangerously low, and Wheeljack got a strong suspicion that the Autobot's spark was finally failing. With that realization he had to shut down every frivolous thought pathway in his processor and focus. He had to move fast, or else he was going to be looking at a graying Autobot corpse in maybe a matter of minutes, if they were lucky.
"I don't get it!" Sideswipe said in a pained voice. "We shared our spark energy, he should be ok!"
"Sunstreaker's been through a lot," Wheeljack said with a growl, distracted as he worked to reveal Sunstreaker's spark chamber to root out the source of the problem: severed fuel line perhaps, crippled housing, burned out spark-alignment, or completely shattered plating. Immediately he saw several fractures around the spark housing that were going to make additional repairs difficult. Wheeljack set to work welding those back in place first with a small soldering iron extracted from his own physically integrated toolkit on his left upper-arm.
"The physical stress on his spark and the shape his housing is in hasn't done him any good either." Once the quick soldering job was complete, Wheeljack could clearly see several couplings inside Sunstreaker's spark chamber had come loose, some of them completely burned away.
"Punching him in the face didn't exactly help," Sideswipe grunted, words tinged with bitter aggression.
"Quiet. I'm trying to work," Wheeljack said, shortly.
"Shouldn't... shouldn't Ratchet be doing this? How do I know you're not trying to kill him?" Sideswipe asked, his wavering voice loud and paranoid. Wheeljack only half-turned to him with narrowed optics.
"That's just insulting. I've spent enough time in the medbay helping Ratchet put you two glitches back together. Now If you don't shut up and let me do this then he will die," Wheeljack growled, fingers working fast as he tried to weld some of the couplings back in place. It was delicate work as some of the wiring was thin and vein-like, almost forming a webbing underneath the plating of his spark chamber. Soundwave's hook must have ripped clean through them. It was a wonder Sunstreaker had lived this long, especially after being tortured.
Sunstreaker's back suddenly arched, and he let out a pained cry, causing Wheeljack to draw back with a start, unsure of what had happened. Sideswipe nearly leapt onto him, just barely held back by Bumblebee before doing more damage than he'd likely intended.
"What's happening? I thought you were trying to make him better!"
"I am!" Wheeljack yelled back. He tried to grip Sunstreaker and keep him pinned down, but the yellow Autobot was convulsing. "I don't get it," he snarled in frustration. "Something's wrong. I've reconnected some of his central neuron connectors, but something's blocking their signal." He exhaled sharply. "I need Ratchet..." The last statement came out as a near-whisper, as Wheeljack looked to the side to see that Allison and Sari were watching them. Sari looked completely lost and afraid as she hovered near Allison, whose face was struggling with her own grimace of defeat. Her eyes darted between him and the Autobot on the ground, at least until something caught her attention behind him.
The presence of a large shadow looming over them was the first cue that someone else had joined their frantic group. Wheeljack tried to keep his eyes on Sunstreaker on the ground, trying to stay focused while he held him down in an effort to keep him from doing more damage to his spark chamber. With optics alone he searched desperately within Sunstreaker's open chamber to find the source of whatever was causing the complication. If he didn't it would likely kill him.
"Something wrong with that Autobot, Wheeljack?" Starscream's voice slithered, all coy and confidence, and it made his energon boil with rage.
"Back off, Starscream," Bumblebee growled from his position on the sideline. He stepped around Sideswipe, giving up on trying to hold the larger Autobot back, and made a daring attempt to stand between Starscream and the injured Autobot on the ground. Starscream easily evaded him with a slight turn, grinning icily and appearing far too informed of what was going on.
"Oh well," Starscream said with false disinterest, turning to slip past Bumblebee once more, apparently satisfied with the quick look he got at what Wheeljack was trying to do. "I guess if you don't want my help, I'll just go over here and sit down then."
Wheeljack growled, systems revving with heated anger as he tilted his head over his shoulder. "If you know something, Starscream, spit it out, now, or so help me..."
"Oh it's nothing especially exciting," Starscream said indifferently, and even though Wheeljack couldn't entirely see him, he knew the Decepticon was shrugging. "I'm not even sure if it'll help."
"Spill it." Wheeljack could hear the whir of Bumblebee's ion cannon as he barked the order at the Decepticon, presumably pointing it as Starscream's face.
"Oh I was just going to mention how Knock Out has this little thing he likes to do when he gets his hands on prisoners. Sometimes, when he doesn't plan on killing them right away, he likes to place little toys into their chests. If he did indeed place one inside your friend, and let's be honest, he most likely did, it will be very small. You might need to look hard to find it, but it's there."
At the behest of this information from the Decepticon, Wheeljack turned back down to Sunstreaker's chest, frantically looking for anything that didn't belong. With all the broken couplings and crumpled plating, it was hard to really discern something completely out-of-place; it was all a mess. Sunstreaker was slipping rapidly, spark light weakening to a dull flash as his lights began to fade. He was losing him. He wasn't going to lose him...
"I don't know what I'm looking for!"
"It's possible that I might know where to look…"
Sideswipe shot forward like an arrow, nearly running the Decepticon over with the flash of his own anger as he came face-to-face with Starscream.
"I'm not letting you touch my brother." The Autobot snarled, causing Starscream to draw back with an indignant huff.
"Well then, I hope you had a chance to say goodbye to him. You're not going to have much longer..." Starscream said haughtily, turning away from Sideswipe as if their conversation was over. If Bumblebee hadn't been there to stop Sideswipe's lunge at the Decepticon's throat, there would have most certainly been a physical fight, which would have helped nobody. Wheeljack scanned Sunstreaker over time and again, and he wasn't finding anything. There might not be another choice, and he was desperate.
Wheeljack hesitated, hating the notion of letting Starscream touch Sunstreaker. As much as he hated the Autobot at that moment for causing all of this, his instincts were telling him that such a violation was undeserved, even for him. Wheeljack was loathed to admit that the Autobot didn't deserve to die, not like this, but he was out of options and completely out of his depth. He wasn't Ratchet, and he had no idea what to do. Taking a heavy intake of air, he closed his optics, and let the words he knew he was going to regret spill forth.
"Alright! But do it now!"
"Are you fraggin' nuts!?" Sideswipe bellowed, voice cracking as he pushed Bumblebee off of him. Wheeljack held his hand out, optics narrowed in warning.
"We have no other choice!" Wheeljack said roughly, pointing at Sunstreaker as he stepped back to allow Starscream room.
The Decepticon knelt down beside the prone Sunstreaker and leaned forward, the dim pulse of his failing spark shining off the Decepticon's face and reflecting like pools of light against red optics. Wheeljack shuddered, seeing the Decepticon face so close to an open Autobot spark. It felt so perverse.
Starscream raised his right hand, slowly, his fingers twitching eagerly as he readied himself with a light smirk. For one moment Wheeljack's processor was reeling with panic, thinking he'd just made a massive mistake and wasn't going to have the time to stop it. All at once Starscream slipped his hand into Sunstreaker's chest, a determined expression on his face as his hand disappeared within. Wheeljack's gut heaved at the sight, and he heard the humans gasp in terrified surprise as their collective breaths were held.
There was a tense moment, and Wheeljack was seconds away from yanking Starscream away, when the Decepticon's optics lit up, and he retracted his hand. He held it aloft, revealing a small, glinting piece of metal, coated in a thin layer of energon.
Sunstreaker's optics suddenly surged as he roused from stasis, the spark in his chest bursting to life with a dramatic flare. He let out a large expulsion of vented air, like releasing a breath that had been held, as his system functions came back online. The Autobot struggled to move, limbs at first slow to respond as the motor pathways reconnected with neural commands but it took only seconds.
"W-what?" Sunstreaker was looking around, confused and unfocused as he slowly regained awareness of what was around him. When his bleary gaze locked on Starscream above him his expression turned to ice, and he immediately tried to force himself up, pushing the Decepticon with a weak snarl.
"That's the thanks I get?!" Starscream grunted, drawing away with a high-pitched whine. "I just saved your life, Autobot." He stepped back despite his accusations, not wanting to be in range of Sunstreaker's fist as the Autobot weakly tried to make a grab for him. He was pushed further aside as Sideswipe rushed past him, throwing himself on Sunstreaker with optics alight.
"We almost lost you...again." Sideswipe said breathlessly, venting air heavily as he dropped down to his knees next to Sunstreaker, who had managed to lift himself onto his elbow joints. The yellow Autobot was looking around the group intently, expression one of pained surprise and confusion. His gaze stopped on Starscream, still holding the thin piece of metal aloft in his hand, and this drew Wheeljack's attention as he stepped toward the Decepticon.
"I take it that chip acted as some kind of destabilizer?" Wheeljack queried, scientific interest momentarily taking hold as he reached for it. The Decepticon let it go willingly, smiling coyly.
"That's one of its many functions, yes. It's a rather fun little tool. One I've used myself actually, a great many times..." Starscream let the words hang in the air for a moment, the insinuations beneath them not lost on any of them.
"I'd rather not know about that," Wheeljack mumbled, disgusted as he turned it over in his hands. It was still coated in quickly drying energon from Sunstreaker's chest, shining a dim pink with a faint tinge of a corrupted yellow. That was not natural, and whatever this was, it was more than just a simple thorn designed to annoy. It was minute circuitry and manufactured components, designed to corrode and poison, and it looked like it did so by affecting the energon that passed through the spark assembly. At least, that was what Wheeljack could theorize with just a cursory inspection, but he'd have to do a more thorough analysis with Ratchet later.
Turning to look at Sunstreaker, the Autobot was not likely able to discern Wheeljack's expression behind his battle mask. He was glad Sunstreaker wasn't dead—he was an Autobot—but a lingering distrust and a still-burning resentment killed any joy he might normally have gotten for saving another Autobot's life.
"Welcome back, sunshine." Wheeljack groused dourly.
"Please don't call me that," Sunstreaker groaned. "What did you do?"
"Not much, actually. I just let Starscream have a poke around in your insides and remove a rather nasty bug you had in your system." Wheeljack knelt down, holding the small piece of metal in his hands forward for Sunstreaker to see. "You had this implanted into your chest. It was messing with your spark functions. Damn nearly killed you too."
Sunstreaker's optics paled, and he grimaced. "You let Starscream poke around inside my chest?" He looked horrified and angry, and he was suddenly pawing at his own chest looking distraught with his spark chamber open and vulnerable. Sideswipe paid no attention to his brother's attempts to close the plates of his chest, too absorbed in looking at Starscream with murder in his optics like he was ready to pounce.
"Uh..." Starscream muttered nervously. "Does it need to be restated, clarified or otherwise paraphrased that I just saved your miserable brother's life?"
"Does it need to be restated, clarified or otherwise paraphrased that I still don't trust you?"
"Yeah, well that makes two of us." Sunstreaker coughed weakly, laying back against his brother for support. Wheeljack looked between them furtively, pocketing the small Decepticon chip away into a storage compartment for study later. Having knowledge of such a device's capabilities, and how to detect it was invaluable.
"I'm not a monster, you know..." Starscream purred. "You and I...we merely do not share the same political perspectives."
"You're a murderer," Sideswipe muttered, trying to distract himself with Sunstreaker, who was now unwillingly allowing Wheeljack to continue stabilizing him. "You have no regard for innocent life, and your nearly killed Al—"
"Sideswipe," Bumblebee interrupted, finally making his presence known amongst the squabbling with his apt timing. "Let it go for now. We need to get out of here, before they come back." His interjection hadn't just been a coincidence, because Wheeljack knew what Sideswipe had been about to say regardless. The Autobot scout probably intended to stop Wheeljack from turning and pummeling the Decepticon right there, which would have only been a waste of time. Instead, he concluded that he was in agreement with Bumblebee.
"We can't risk moving Sunstreaker right now. It's a damn Primus-willed miracle you're alive." Wheeljack shook his head, feeling rattled, but otherwise focused. He looked at Sunstreaker trying to make his face as neutral as possible; not a difficult task, considering he only had to make sure his optics were convincing
"But they're going to come back... we gotta—" Sunstreaker protested, trying to get up and failing.
"We'll keep watch overnight. There's plenty of cover, and places for Sari and Allison to sleep. But I need to make sure you're at least strong enough to stand up and run if necessary, if you're to get out of here alive, and for that I need you to be still. This is going to take some time."
"How much time do we have?" Allison's voice finally spoke up, and Wheeljack had nearly forgotten that the two humans had been standing there. Allison looked pale and frightened as her gaze wandered between the twins and himself, brow furrowed in worry, and Wheeljack knew that whatever was on her mind had not changed. Sari was holding onto her arm with uncertainty, but she was looking up at Bumblebee as if for direction.
"I don't know, Allison..." Wheeljack said, looking at her sadly, pangs of sympathetic grief in his own spark at the realization that he couldn't focus on her just yet. He needed to know what was wrong; she'd finally shown him that she was in some kind of mental pain but they'd been interrupted. It would have to wait.
Allison nodded to him. He knew she probably had a great deal on her mind, but if she was willing to put on a brave face and get back to more pressing matters, than so was he. When Allison turned around to lead Sari away from the group Wheeljack resigned himself to turn back to Sunstreaker.
"Alright. Time to get back to work."
