CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

XXX

Even as everyone at base celebrated, Jack felt sick. He could barely conjure up the energy to smile and laugh at Miko as she riffed on her guitar, or even shoot Vince a glare when the bully mockingly whispered welcome home honey under his breath. Another, far more worrying thought continued to beat across his mind, an insistent stabbing through his skull with accompanying adrenaline each time.

Megatron saw me. Megatron saw me. He. Saw. Me!

Jack did not know if he had ever seen the tyrant - or anyone, for that matter - so angry. His optics were like blazing coals from the ninth circle of hell, the force with which he had brought down his sword having made Jack flinch. Optimus had caught it with amazing dexterity, the Prime fully returned to his old self and dealing with Megatron with practiced ease. They had left the tyrant to his enraged howling at his Spacebridge, though the human had to wonder how much of it was anger at the Autobots . . . and anger at him.

This and the war are separate.

And yet he had a hard time believing Megatron would respect that agreement after the stunt Jack pulled.

His heart beat in his throat, slick hands barely able to hold the cup of punch Agent Fowler had somehow been able to procure from his office. Only a few sips had been taken before he thought he was going to throw-up.

"Jack, honey, are you okay?" His mother entered his line of vision, worried words barely comprehensible in his anxiety-ridden mind. "You're looking pale. Sit down."

He just did as she instructed, looking up at her and realizing she would have to be at work soon. She would be safe . . . would she come home to a dead son?

The shudder which wracked his body could not be concealed, and finally he pitched forward and threw up.

"Oh, scrap!" Miko made a disgusted noise as June shrieked, the nurse instinctually stepping back before spinning on her heel, snatching Jack's cup out of his hand in one smooth motion as well.

"Jack?" Ratchet was suddenly there, the medic kneeling down to assess him, a digit lightly poking at his side. "Jack, what's wrong?"

"I-" he shook his head, staring at the bright red vomit with utter embarrassment. "It's nothing. I'm fine; just an after-effect of Spacebridging, I think."

"Allow me to perform a scan," the Autobot physician insisted, June back at Jack's side and wiping his mouth with a cloth. The boy could not feel any more humiliated, nodding his consent as his cheeks burned.

"Nurse Darby, please step back for a moment," Ratchet requested, the nurse doing as told just before a green beam landed on Jack's skin. The ensuing tingling made him feel odd, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

He closed his eyes, mortified by his inability to keep it together. Once the scan was complete he opened them again, feeling the burning gazes of the Autobots on him - most notably that of Arcee and Optimus Prime.

"I am not picking up anything abnormal," Ratchet announced as he looked at the scanner on his wrist, frowning. "Outside of heightened levels of cortisol, which is to be expected after such a high-stress mission. I recommend Jack get plenty of rest at home."

I can't go home. He'll kill me.

Jack took a deep breath, trying to steel his nerves.

As much as he assumed Megatron would end his life, another part of him argued just the opposite. The odds of the tyrant risking ending Amicus' lineage like this - at least the branch he knew about - were low, however . . . he could simply pluck Jack from his home and keep him prisoner on the warship until Stockholm Syndrome did the work for him.

Another shudder wracked his body, his hands shaking.

If it took me just a month to crumble, then it would take no time at all if I was on the warship.

"Jack?" June frowned, stroking his hair aside. "Do you need to lay down?"

And be lost in my own thoughts? No.

"Y-yeah," he forced himself to say, feeling as if he could not catch enough breath and yet he kept his pacing steady.

"Ratchet, bridge us home please," the nurse helped her son up, the base having gone completely silent as the pair walked towards the swirling portal.

Jack stopped, guilty that he ruined their celebration. His gaze found Optimus, the Prime looking at him with immense concern. Despite his doubts it would assuage his worry, Jack offered him a smile.

"I'm glad you're back, Optimus."

"Rest well, Jack," the Prime returned, not truly acknowledging the sentiment. Yet his cool, neutral demeanor was nothing new to the humans, and Jack took it in stride as he stepped through the Groundbridge portal with his mother.

June pulled out her cellphone as soon as they were in the garage. "I'll call in for work, make sure you're doing oka-"

"N-no!" Jack's outburst made them both jump, the older woman looking at him oddly as he fumbled to come up with something. "Mom, I promise I'm okay, just . . . I just need to wind down, I think. You know, take a nap. If anything happens, I'll call you, or Arcee."

It would have been too much for him to hope that would satisfy her, June crossing her arms.

"You vomited."

"I've been doing that a lot this month," he said, almost smacking himself in the face as he reminded her of his recent illness. "This isn't like before, I swear. I'll wake up tomorrow and be just fine."

There was a long pause as June looked him up and down, her frigid blue eyes analyzing him carefully.

"I'm trusting you, Jack," she said finally, "but if something happens, if you develop any new symptoms, you call me. Whether it's a fever, or headache, or anything else."

"I will, mom," his smile did little to assure her, and he reached out and hugged her. "You have every right to be concerned. But I'll be okay."

Until tonight.

She sighed, returning his hug and taking a deep breath. "Get to bed, then," came her instructions, and though her "nurse voice" was stern, Jack found it comforting, "I'll check on you before I go in for work."

Not protesting in the least bit he entered the house, giving her a quiet "I love you" before disappearing into his room.

Jack changed into his pajamas out of habit, the lump in his throat only growing as he slid underneath the covers. His eyes locked in on the corner of his bedroom, a flash of headlights as a car drove down the street nearly startling him into screaming. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to keep it together, watching with tense anticipation.

For now, all he could do was wait.

XXX

When his mother came to check on him Jack pretended to be asleep, her fingers gently working through his hair as she whispered "I love you" to him with a kiss on his temple before leaving. As soon as the door shut tears pricked his eyes, the young man sitting up and wiping them away as he looked out his window.

That was where he stayed until the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, leaving him in complete darkness. His eyes listed over to the corner of the room where the Groundbridge usually spawned, unable to decide if he was numb or so anxious he could not feel anything else.

Taking a breath, Jack waited.

And waited.

And waited.

His body shook as everything remained eerily silent. A thousand scenarios played out in his head, each one much worse than the last, as he tried to think of what kind of sick and twisted revenge Megatron would plot in order to get back at him. Though he initially guessed that the tyrant would go after him directly, he began to wonder if that was actually the case.

It felt like eternities as the minutes clicked by, Jack sitting with his chin resting against his knees, his taut muscles starting to ache no matter how much he tried to relax them. His intestines seemed to tie themselves into tight knots, and he wondered if he was going to get sick again.

After almost an hour and a half he realized Megatron was not coming - or at least, was not showing up to his home.

Feeling suicidal at best, Jack flipped open his cellphone.

We need to talk. Please.

When thirty seconds ticked by and he received nothing in return, it was clear they were not talking any time soon.

Snapping the phone shut and putting it back on its charger he tried to lay back, his hands shaking against his mattress and his legs restlessly twitching. Closing his eyes did nothing for him, so instead the young man just looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of anything but the worst.

Now more than ever Jack did not know what to do. Tell the Autobots? That would cause absolute pandemonium; they would immediately pull June from work and have the Darbys and anyone else associated with the Autobots stay at the base. There, he would have to endure the most judgmental of looks from those he considered his friends, the most painful of which would come from Arcee and . . . Optimus.

What would the Prime say? Would he try to sympathize with Jack, or would he be disappointed? He had trusted the human with the Key to Vector Sigma; a good gamble, as Jack had successfully downloaded the entire Matrix of Leadership and given it back to Orion Pax, yet at the same time he had been playing a dangerous game with Megatron.

The entirety of the Matrix of Leadership which, he recalled, held the wisdom of all the Primes.

Sentinel Zeta was a Prime.

He sat up, once again feeling sick at the thought. Was there any wisdom from him resting in Optimus' chest? Did he call upon the former Prime for guidance? Was Optimus even aware of the twisted practices of his predecessor, and did he choose to ignore them?

It would explain some things. Megatron continuously accused Optimus of hiding Jack from him - because the Prime had some awareness of Amicus. Yet if Megatron had discovered Amicus during the war, how did Optimus have any knowledge of the organic? Unless . . .

No. Not Optimus. He would never.

Shivers ran down his spine at the thought.

Would Orion Pax?

Jack had only interacted with that persona of the Prime for a few seconds, yet he doubted wholeheartedly that even he would take part in such a vile practice. Nothing said he had not been invited, though Jack liked to think Orion had turned down such offers.

However, that would mean he was complacent.

Asking Optimus was out of the question, as it would inadvertently reveal Jack's secret. He would ask Megatron, maybe, but that was in the air at the moment.

Gritting his teeth Jack stood up, starting to pace his room as his mind refused to rest, wishing he could shut himself off for a moment. Just to escape into sleep and not have to worry about what was to come for a little while.

This whole thing was a mess that was about to implode on itself, and he was unsure how to rectify it. How could he? Megatron would see it as blatant betrayal despite their initial agreement. Jack was not about to profess his loyalties to the Decepticon cause just to demonstrate that this meant something to him.

His molars were beginning to hurt as he ground down on them.

This was beginning to mean something to me.

And he feared that it still did, in a way.

Jack paced until he was certain he was going to wear a track into his floor, almost wishing Megatron would just get it over with and come to him. It would be more bearable than him having to wait and guess as to what the warlord had planned for him.

He looked at his phone again, wondering if he could annoy Megatron into visiting. Not like he could make him any angrier than he actually was.

Be rational, Darby. You need to calm down first before you do something you regret.

As if I haven't already done that.

Sitting on the edge of his bed with a huff he put his head between his hands, wishing it would all just stop for a moment.

He closed his eyes, deciding to try a breathing exercise his psychology class had taught him. Four seconds of breathing in, seven seconds of holding it, then eight seconds of letting it go. Repeat.

Though his mind did not stop racing, at least his body began to calm down and stop shaking so hard. His fingers still twitched, yet Jack felt a tad bit better, enough so that he crawled back into bed.

Continuing to breathe slowly, Jack looked up at his ceiling, deciding even if he was not going to sleep, he could at least rest here, to calm the anxiety which plagued him.

XXX

His alarm jerked him awake, Jack highly doubting he even slept much in the first place.

Jack ached, he noticed, as he reached out and silenced the clock. As his hand dropped he almost immediately fell back to sleep, a fog coating his mind and coaxing him to go back to bed.

If he had to estimate, he maybe got two hours worth of sleep, max. He had gotten up multiple times during the night to pace or try and calm his listless mind, even considering taking some medication to make him sleepy. Now, he wished he did.

Huffing, Jack sat up for only a couple seconds before he crashed back down, pulling his sheets up to his chin and turning so he faced the wall. It was weird, as he almost expected to see red optics gazing at him instead.

The painful reminder prompted him to close his eyes, letting the sleepiness crash into him and pull him back under. Escaping, just a little bit, was better than trying to get through school absolutely exhausted.

"-ack? Jack!" A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he jumped, bolting up to see his mother was next to his bed. A quick glance at his clock and he realized almost two hours had passed. "Honey, why are you still in bed? You have school!"

Taking a deep breath to calm the heart threatening to beat out of his chest, Jack rubbed his eyes. "S-Sorry mom . . . I'm just tired."

Her panicked expression fell, briefly becoming confused before her brow creased in trepidation.

"We're going to the hospital," she stood straight, hand gripping his arm to pull him up with her, but the mention of the hospital made him more resistant.

"No, mom, it's fine," he said, trying to rip his arm from her grip. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Jack, you were in space for at least an hour, maybe more, on another planet with a completely different atmosphere and gravitational pull. It could have done who knows what to your body, and frankly I don't really trust Ratchet's scan. He's a Cybertronian doctor."

"This isn't from my trip!" Now Jack was shouting at her, unable to control his irritation. "I'm just tired, mom. But if you want me to go to school I'll go."

Throwing his covers off he stood, the sudden change in position making him dizzy. For a brief second it was as if he had been struck in the side of his head, tinnitus slamming into his ears like an arrow going through them. The ringing in his ears obscured the sound of his mother calling his name, his world appearing to tilt to the left.

The sensation of his knees giving out from under him was surreal, yet Jack barely had time to process that before his vision blacked out.

XXX

Jolting awake, Jack felt his heart in his throat, eyes blinking open to grey walls. He groaned, his left hand clumsily fumbling to his face to touch where it hurt - which, unsurprisingly, caused a stabbing pain to tear across his skull.

"You're awake," a gentle hand took his, the soft cooing of his mother assuring him things were okay. "Don't touch, Jack. It's all stitched up."

"Mom?" He croaked. "What . . . where are we?"

"The hospital," her hand squeezed his, Jack turning his head to see the ever-persistent concerned look in her gaze. "Do you recollect anything?"

There was a moment of pausing as he tried to sort his thoughts, because just a few seconds ago he could have sworn he was at home, arguing with her about school . . .

"I fell?"

"Passed out, more like," her smile was strained, "and your head hit the corner of your dresser. It looked like you had some orthostatic hypotension. All of your scans and labs came back normal. But Jack . . ."

He closed his eyes again, feeling like a complete moron, and realizing he had been out for at least a few hours. "I didn't sleep at all last night," he confessed, deciding telling some of the truth at this point would not hurt anything. "I was just . . . really anxious, mom. I couldn't sit still for even a couple minutes sometimes. Honestly, my blood pressure was probably impossibly high before I finally fell asleep for a couple hours."

She frowned. "When you say a couple hours, how many is that?"

"Two, if I was lucky," he looked back at her, feeling immensely guilty. "I'm sorry for yelling."

"No, Jack, no, don't be sorry for anything," she said hurriedly, trying to assure him. "I'm just . . . I'm worried something might have happened to you on your . . . trip. It was a lot, especially for someone your age. You're not even out of high school yet, and this extreme burden was placed on you. You've been stressed."

That only covers about half of it, he thought bitterly.

His mother took a deep breath. "I suppose I thought you would sleep easier now that Optimus is back with us."

Jack looked at their hands, finally noticing the IV needle sticking in his right one. He sighed, realizing that meant he was probably going to be there for a little while longer.

"I guess I did too," he lied, already fully aware of why he did not sleep - could not sleep. "Did you tell Arcee?"

"She called me when you didn't answer your phone this morning," June answered, "I thought something had happened to you - and after you fell I think we both panicked a little. She helped me get you into the car and followed me to the hospital."

Jack nodded, everything coming back to him slowly - including the throbbing of his head. He resisted the urge to touch the area.

"What time is it?"

"It's a little past noon," his mother informed him with a quick check of her phone. "That dresser did a number on you."

Nodding once more, Jack absentmindedly noted that meant his mother had about five or six hours before she had to work-

"You're supposed to be asleep!" He blurted, sitting up despite her protests. Taking a closer look he saw shadows of dark circles under her eyes, more guilt twisting through his stomach.

"Jack, it's alright," she assured him, gently squeezing his hand. "I got someone to cover my shift for me tonight so I can make sure you're okay."

Her son let loose a breath, giving her a forlorn look.

"Mom, I'm sorry," he said, the words sounding pathetic, yet somehow he had to convey that he truly regretted being a complete brat. She had no idea what was going on, why her son was acting so strange and occasionally being a complete jerk . . . Allspark, he felt like such an ass.

"Don't apologize to me, Jack," she said sternly. "You're clearly going through something, like you're having an acute stress reaction. It's my job as your mother to make sure everything is okay. And if it's not, I fix it."

"This isn't fixable."

The words came out before he could stop them, June halting in confusion as she tried to process what he meant. Jack just stared at her, not sure how he could possibly salvage this now.

To be fair, Megatron skipped out on a night without any explanation - though Jack had to be an idiot to not know why - so that made their agreement null and void. There was also no guarantee the tyrant was even going to come back, though even Jack thought that sounded a little presumptuous after one night. Regardless, what was the harm if he told his mother now? It would explain away everything: why he was so stressed, why he was acting weird, why he was being so evasive with her.

"What do you mean?" She asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Even as the idea of telling her crossed his mind, Jack felt resistance, because he did not know if he could deal with the repercussions. It was bitingly rich how he seemed totally fine with sitting in the tyrant's lap, but when it came to talking about it he felt immense shame.

"It's . . . nevermind," he shook his head, letting go of her hand to rub his eyes. "There's a lot going on right now for me, with school and the Autobots. It's just a storm I need to ride through."

His mother looked genuinely upset. "Let me help you. You don't have to do this alone."

But I do, Mom. I do and I'm sorry.

"You're already doing a lot for me," he said, taking her hand again and squeezing it. He forced a smile. "And I'm really grateful for that, mom."

She looked at him with sad eyes, but did not push the subject further. If Jack had anything from his mother besides her hair and eyes, it was her stubbornness. They would be going in verbal circles until one eventually gave up, leaving more questions than answers in their wake. And though June had at first been on Jack's back for nearly everything, after meeting the Autobots she appeared to dial it back just a touch. She realized that when Jack kept secrets, it was to protect her, and he would never think of putting himself or someone else in harm's way; it was a responsibility she had instilled upon him at a young age.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, changing the subject.

He sighed. "I've felt worse, and I've definitely felt better," he admitted. "I'm guessing there's a nasty bruise there."

That earned him a quiet snort. "A goose egg for certain, yes. And eighteen stitches."

Leaning back with a breath, he asked the next obvious question: "How long am I going to be here?"

"The hospitalist will come in and check on you in a bit," June assured him, "ask you some of the usual questions. If your neuro exam checks out, and you have good orthostatics, hopefully you'll be home by this evening. She might ask you to stay for twenty-four hours just to make sure everything is okay."

Jack sighed. "I've already missed enough school."

His mother laughed, which was a bit strange, but he remembered she was a bit sleep deprived. "Right now, Jack, I'm more worried about you. School can wait."

He smiled at her.

"Thanks, mom."

Once their conversation had tapered off a bit June pressed the nurse call button, a smiling woman popping in briefly to see Jack was awake before summoning the hospitalist.

The doctor was nice, asking Jack how he was doing while she shined a light in his eyes, asking him to squeeze her fingers or press his feet against her hands. He also answered questions about what year it was, who his mother was, where he was, the doctor looking satisfied by all of his answers.

"Aside from the soft tissue swelling, your head CT was normal," she informed him, putting her stethoscope back around her neck after listening to his heart and lungs. "There was quite a bit of blood when you arrived, but head wounds do bleed a lot, and your hemoglobin was fine. Your blood pressure has been stable throughout your stay here. I'll have your orthostats checked once you've finished off this bag of fluids and if everything checks out, we'll discuss our options further about whether you're comfortable going home or would like to stay until tomorrow, just to make sure. Sounds good?"

"Yeah, sounds great," Jack agreed, the physician pausing to see if either of them had any questions. When no one said anything she left, Jack's nurse doing a brief check on his saline and current vital signs before she also left, leaving the pair alone again.

"Here," June offered him his phone. "If you want to text Miko and Raf to let them know you're alright."

Taking the device he noticed how tired his mother looked.

"Mom . . . if you want to sleep, it's okay," he said.

"I'll be alright," she said dismissively, despite the obvious exhaustion in her voice.

Jack sighed, knowing there was no arguing with her as he flipped his phone open. Miko and Raf had sent him a couple of texts, and he had two missed phone calls from Arcee that morning.

Oops.

He sent three separate messages to each to let them know he was okay, almost flipping his phone closed when he caught sight of another contact.

Amicus.

He frowned for a moment, then went into his "contact book" and changed the name, Amicus disappearing as Set bounced down to its place in the alphabet. It was a more fitting name, and a less obvious positioning of the strange entry.

Miko replied almost instantaneously with a Glad to see you're not dead! text, which was more fitting than she would ever know. He hesitated again as he backed out of her messages to see Set's, his own message staring back at him. For a moment he considered updating Megatron on his predicament as well, several long seconds going by before he closed it.

If he's not going to talk to me, then he doesn't deserve to know.