CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

XXX

Despite his mother's well-meaning intentions, the days which passed without at least one trip to the base were slow and anxiety-inducing. Arcee could only give him so many updates in the short drive from his home to school and vice-versa, and he in turn could not tell her much either. She was clearly worried for him, his separation making her more concerned for his health.

Though he attempted to assure her as often as he could, the truth was she had every right to be worried. Most of his nights were spent staring at the ceiling, too scared to close his eyes for fear that would be when Megatron pounced. He was most vulnerable asleep, a thought which terrified him. As a consequence dark circles had formed under his eyes, and Jack was too nauseated from the lack of sleep to eat much. He was thinning and paling gradually, though June had yet to say anything about it. She could be in denial, or simply did not notice. He didn't care either way - it would only worry her more.

He also began to break down in tears at random times of the day or night, his heart aching for someone who was no longer there. Jack despised every tear which fell, however he struggled to come to terms with the simple fact Megatron was no longer there. He could not explain it fully, how he was fine one minute then sobbing the next, nor could he discern his feelings. Nevertheless, it was a rejection which stabbed into his core.

It hurt, though by all accounts he should have been happy with this development. Megatron was no longer a threat, as his secret visits would not be found out by June. Jack did not have to worry about the consequences of his mother walking in to find him making out with the lord of Decepticons . . .

Something caught in his throat at the thought.

I need you.

He hated how true those words were. He hated how he wished to feel warm armor against him and careful digits run through his hair. He missed what they had become, and coupled with his fear of the tyrant the mix of conflicting ideas kept him distracted and insomniated.

Jack closed his eyes, now one week into his grounding from the base, mulling over what he had discussed with the psychiatrist in today's session.

Mostly it had been about Megatron and Jack's relationship with him. They tried to puzzle out his feelings, yet even Jack could not quite decide on how to describe what was in his chest. Love was not right, and lust certainly was too intense. Scared was appropriate, however it had negative connotations which Jack was unsatisfied with. There were both good and bad things about this relationship, even if the latter outweighed the former more than he would ever admit.

His fingers twiddled with his phone, staring at the device whilst he laid in his bed. After his "we need to talk" text a week ago, he had not dared to contact Megatron again. What was he going to say, anyways? Anything he said would just be considered a lie, given his track record, and they both knew he was not the begging type. He also guessed Megatron would be disgusted with any attempt to plead with him, so Jack elected to take a page out of Soundwave's book and stay silent.

This is a mess. This is a huge mess and I don't know if I can handle this.

He felt sick, anxiety ratcheted up from the increasing overthinking and mental gymnastics which worked him into a frenzy. More than anything, Jack wanted to tell someone the truth, but knew he could not for fear of what would happen if he tried.

Even after a week, he hoped Megatron would come back, if only to explicitly break things off with him - therefore officially allowing them to part ways and for Jack to move on from his feelings. It seemed like something the warlord would elect to do, but he could also be petty, so it was hard to predict what he would do next. Petty was probably not the word to describe it, because that assumed whatever he did would be subtle. No, Megatron's revenge would be unmistakable, and more equivalent to the nuclear annihilation of everything Jack cared about.

It's not healthy to fear someone so much you can't sleep.

But who could he talk to? Miko or Raf would freak out and tell his mother, and telling June outright would lead to a total meltdown, and Arcee would know. Once Arcee knew . . .

He grit his teeth. Telling the Autobots or Agent Fowler was out of the question too, however they were his only options. Secrets were rarely kept in the Autobot base, with the exception of one individual.

No. I can't tell him, not Optimus. Megatron was his friend. And if I tell him, and he tells Agent Fowler . . . then what? Megatron would find out I told and make things worse.

Ratchet, though a close second, hated Megatron with a passion. He would likely scold Jack, then shame him for how he felt. The good doctor would mean well, because the human would definitely be unable to fathom what it felt like to lose one's entire world and be at war for millions of years. Sleeping with the enemy - the one who started it all - would be considered the highest form of treason. He would most certainly tell Optimus what was disclosed to him, though whether to intentionally rat Jack out with malevolent intent or under the impression it was his duty to protect Jack, the human could not discern.

Tears pricked Jack's eyes, his nausea growing exponentially. I can't keep this inside me forever.

He looked at the time. It was 02:46, almost three in the morning. His mother was well into her night shift, with four hours left before she arrived home to see him off to school.

Standing, he began to pace, his eyelids heavy and yet he felt far from tired. Knuckles began to ache as he gripped his phone tightly, grimacing whilst forcing his fingers to relax.

The psychiatrist could only do so much. Jack had to speak with someone who would understand. Who he could say the name Megatron to without sounding crazy or blowing the Cybertronian's cover.

Fingers flew across the keyboard before he could stop himself, calling the number and placing the phone to his ear. He swallowed, the line buzzing exactly twice before the receiver picked up.

"Jack?"

"Optimus," he barely got the name out, trying to keep his tone even. "I . . . I'm not in any trouble, it's not an emergency, but . . . Can we talk? Face to face?"

"I will arrive as swiftly as possible."

No more words needed to be said, Jack slipping some shoes on and grabbing a spare house key whilst he waited. Not long after, the sound of the powerful semi's engine rumbled up to his home, though the Prime had the presence of mind to not honk. Jack assumed he had Groundbridged somewhere less conspicuous, as Jack's garage was out of the question for obvious reasons.

Stepping out, he quietly locked the door behind him before swiftly striding out, Optimus helpfully opening his passenger-side door for him.

"Thank you," he said softly, realizing the cabin was much warmer than the desert air around it.

"It is extraordinarily early in the morning," Optimus sounded both concerned and reprimanding at the same time. "Far too early to be up for your schooling."

"I know," Jack replied quietly. "I . . . I just need someone to talk to."

He felt Optimus' wheels turn as the Prime drove down his street, not wanting to draw attention to the fact a semi was parked in the middle of a neighborhood street. Though Jack doubted any of his neighbors would actually care, or notice, he appreciated the gesture, as it gave him a stronger sense of privacy.

"Are you alright?"

He took a shuddering breath. "I'm fine . . . As fine as I can be . . . I just . . ."

The Prime's mirror tilted towards him, the young man's voice significantly more tired than the last time he had spoken with him. He truly looked exhausted, the fake circles under his eyes punctuated by the Autobot's overhead cabin lights, which also cast shadows over his thinning cheeks.

His voice was as soft and gentle as he could make it, not wanting Jack to think he was attempting to judge him in any capacity. "Arcee informed me that you are seeing a mental health specialist. I wish to apologize; I did not realize how much of a toll the Key to Vector Sigma would place on you. I did not account for the truth that you are still a child, Jack, and it was not your burden to bear."

"No, Optimus, it's not your fault . . . It's mine," he felt his throat constrict as he thought of his next words. He wanted to trust Optimus, and to do that he needed this. It felt as if he was throwing himself out to the wolves, however it had been a full week without any communication from Megatron. It was not far-fetched to assume he no longer existed in the warlord's mind, not after his extreme betrayal.

Optimus waited, the young man's increasing distress not escaping his notice. Jack's hands were shaking, eyes downcast as he refused to look at anything but himself - because he was ashamed of what lay beneath the surface. And he was afraid that Optimus would know why by the look in his eyes.

"Megatron found me," he said, the only reason the words did not hang in dead silence was because of the rumble of Optimus' engine, "and he told me. . . everything. About Amicus."

Optimus suppressed the urge to hit his brakes, keeping careful control of his emotions as they washed across him.

Orion Pax had been naïve to Sentinel-Zeta Prime's corruption in its fullest extent, having merely assumed he was using his status for luxury and power. He still felt some respect for the mech, as he believed he was a victim of circumstance that had inherited a waning Cybertron, and was doing all he could to mend it through less-radical means. It was not until the Autobots officially drove out the Decepticons from Iacon did they find the harem - and its records.

From them, he not only saw Amicus, the face forever burned into his memory banks, but read everything about him as well. His origins, his purpose, and a whole host of health records which, he had realized early on, were maintained well after Sentinel Zeta had perished at the hands of the Decepticons. Amicus had been useful to the Decepticons, but it was a long time before the new Prime could ascertain why.

Optimus and Megatron exchanged hands frequently during the war, being prisoners of the other's faction for who only knew how long before they found a way to liberate themselves and return to their own, to the point it was almost an inside joke. Twisted, for certain, and not one which Optimus found much humor in, yet Megatron would always point it out with great amusement.

The Decepticon leader had been in custody when Optimus found the courage to ask the question, attempting to decipher why the human had been left alive: who is Amicus? Who was, Megatron corrected, the Prime having only ever seen a similar rage in his optics when Orion Pax had turned against him in the Council meeting. It was only after more prodding, more anger, that Megatron told him everything. Every last, graphic, descriptive detail he could.

Amicus had held his spark, captivating the warlord in a way no one else could. Perhaps, Optimus realized, it was because the organic was the only one Megatron knew could be genuine with him. Even Soundwave had his secrets. Yet over time, as he peeled back layer after layer of the human, he found himself more and more entranced with him. Love, perhaps, was too mild of a word for what Megatron felt for him, and lust was too temporary. This was something which would persist for lifetimes - and Amicus was snatched away from him by the very ones who would have otherwise saved him.

Optimus still felt deep regret over what happened. Maybe, if he had waited, if Mirage had time to gather more intel, they would have known about the human. The bombing would have never occurred, and Megatron turned back from his dark path as Amicus showed him the benefits of coexisting rather than all or nothing.

When he first laid optics upon Jack Darby, Optimus Prime dreaded every moment he was outside the base, exposed to potential Decepticon discovery. He understood generations had since passed between the two, yet there was enough retention of the core genetics which linked them it was borderline disturbing. If he, who had never truly met Amicus, could see his ancestry so clearly, there was no question Megatron would too.

Bringing the Decepticon warlord to the base had been a gamble he willingly bet on for the safety of Earth . . . a risk which he lost.

Which, according to Jack, he severely lost.

"I . . . I'm sorry, Optimus," Jack said, taking his silence as anger. "I-I don't know how he found me, but I swear I didn't tell him where the Autobot base is, or that Raf and Miko also live in Jasper. He only knows that I live here, and . . . And it's all he wants to know."

Optimus heard the panic in his voice, how it made the sounds catch in his throat and tears prick at his eyes. He gently pulled over to the side of the road.

"Jack, did he hurt you?"

There was a startled pause, Jack clearly not having expected the question. His fingers briefly touched his shoulder, then quickly moved away once he realized what he was doing.

"No," he said, though his voice was soft. There was a long hesitation, then he bowed his head. "No. He never hurt me. But . . . After I helped you . . . Now I'm scared he will."

The delicacy of the situation did not surpass the Prime, thus he tried to word his questions carefully. He did not want to scare Jack away from confiding in him.

"Jack, I wish to help you. But to do so, I need to understand what transpired between you and Megatron, and how many times he has visited you since the first. You may omit as much information as you see fit; it is not my place to force you to tell me anything."

Once again Jack was quiet, however this was because he did not know where to start. Did he want to tell Optimus everything? Was he willing?

It went too far. And yet somehow I feel as if it didn't go far enough.

His hesitation did not go unnoticed, yet Optimus was willing to wait. He assumed Jack was debating on what to say, and even perhaps how to say it. The longer the silence the more worried he became, wondering what had happened between Megatron and Jack. If he treated him just as he did his consort before him . . .

"It started over a month ago," Jack began, thankfully breaking the thought before it could fully form, "when he first came to my house."

And he told Optimus what he could. Recounting the nights he spent with the Decepticon were painful, wretched memories filled with guilt and heartbreak, yet he said everything he was willing. He braved telling Optimus about the deal, then their adventures into Venezuela, how he got sick and was cared for by Megatron - however he refused to speak of the tyrant slipping into stasis - and the trip to Egypt with the kiss. The one he both regretted and reveled in. He outlined what the two of them had settled on, how they negotiated around one another in this dangerous game they played.

His spine prickled at the thought of claws running down his back, suppressing shivers as his body recounted how derma felt against his neck.

The silence which followed after his final words - the ones revealing how terrified he was after rescuing Optimus and realizing Megatron had seen him - was borderline unbearable. Jack fidgeted with his sweater, unsure whether to break the silence or allow Optimus to process it on his own.

Eventually, the Prime's deep voice broke the silence gently. "Has he threatened you?"

Jack felt his hands unconsciously clench. "No," he said, feeling awful that this felt like the one time he was being completely honest. "He hasn't spoken to me . . . I haven't heard anything. And I'm both scared and . . . Upset by it."

"It is an understandable reaction, Jack" Optimus assured him. "While you may have consented to the terms you both set, that does not mean you are not a victim. You felt as though you had no control, and that may have been true; Megatron may have been manipulating you and giving you a small sense of boundaries in order to deceive you into believing it was your choice. However, I cannot speak for him nor his spark, despite my reservations that he most likely only desired what you could give him in replacement of Amicus."

His gut twisted at the thought, because it did dive deep into an insecurity he had not given much thought to. All of this started because Megatron had loved Amicus; he pursued Jack because of his ancestor, and would have completely ignored him otherwise had he not had any relation. It made Jack, him, feel like nothing more than a vessel. One which was useless once Megatron realized he couldn't be what Amicus had been to him.

Was that why it hurt? Because Jack had somehow hoped Megatron would want him for him?

"Maybe," was all he could whisper for a long time. "I . . . I just feel guilty. Optimus, you, the Autobots, you're my friends. And all while they were trying to find you and save you, I was with him."

It sounded so awful coming from his mouth, and he thought he was going to throw up. A rock settled in his stomach, the nausea almost overpowering. He imagined the nights he spent in Megatron's arms, nights where Optimus was a prisoner on the warship and his own friends were up searching for him.

"And I liked it."

That brought the tears, Jack's lower lip quivering as he finally felt them run down his cheeks. He hid his face from view, embarrassed by his weakness. He was crying, in front of Optimus Prime.

It felt like the seat belt around his chest tightened a touch. "This is not your fault, Jack," Optimus reassured him, however it merely increased the human's guilt tenfold.

"But I'm not completely faultless, Optimus," he argued through his upset, "I could have said no, I could have kept things from going too far . . . but I didn't."

"A pressured yes does not mean you agreed, Jack," the Prime countered, more patient than Jack thought he should have been, "it means you felt coerced into pleasing Megatron so he would not hurt you or your loved ones."

But I didn't feel coerced. I don't feel coerced.

Jack had hoped this conversation would help him feel better, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but instead it made him regret ever bringing it up. He would have much rather suffered in silence than feel what had to be Optimus' judgement on him. As idolized as the Prime was, there was no way he was perfect - he would argue that himself - and so Jack could not just assume he did not feel disgusted by his decisions.

Instead of saying anything, then, Jack curled up on himself, resting his chin against his knees as he pulled them up, suddenly feeling bone-chilling cold. More regret just ate at him, and he wondered if he would ever be able to emotionally recover.

What has he done to me?

More than he would ever care to admit.

"Jack," Optimus finally broke the silence, "do you feel as though your life is in danger?"

His throat closed up - because as much as he wanted to believe he felt safe with Optimus, he was forced to admit he felt safer in the tyrant's arms. Now, without them . . . he was terrified of what Megatron might do to him, or his mother.

"I don't know," he whispered, this not being entirely false. "And that's why I needed to speak with you. You know him better than almost everyone else . . . do you think I'm in danger? My mom?"

As soon as the question left his lips he braced himself, because what if Optimus said yes? What would they do?

The Autobot leader took a long time to decide his answer, factoring in what he knew. Megatron had been bold enough to visit Jack every night in order to convince him of forming a relationship, yet when Jack apparently showed his true colors - restoring Optimus' memories and aiding the Autobots - he . . . left. He did not immediately lash out, or attempt to destroy everything which stood in his way to get to Jack. That, perhaps, was most concerning of all; instead of leading with his emotions, as the Decepticon was ought to do, he instead stood back.

"I do," Optimus finally admitted, "but of what, I cannot say for certain. Megatron's lack of contact with you may mean he is wishing to approach this with a processor not clouded with anger - which may be more dangerous for you than any other alternative. I cannot trust he will not try to bring harm to you, or June. And because of that . . . I believe it is best if we relocate you somewhere he cannot find you."

Wait, does he mean- "Optimus, you're not saying we should leave Jasper?"

"That may be the only way to ensure he will not locate you."

"But-" no, no way, "But that means I'll have to tell my mom! I can't do that to her."

Optimus' steady voice held immense sadness, yet in his panic Jack could hardly detect it. "Keeping her in the dark will only do more harm than good, Jack. But I will not place the burden of telling her on you."

"You're going to tell Agent Fowler," Jack felt hurt, and betrayed, realizing this had to have been a mistake. Risking Megatron's wrath seemed like a better alternative than baring his secret to his friends. Because once William Fowler heard about this massive breach in not just Autobot safety, but security . . .

His heart clenched at the thought of what Arcee's face would look like. She would hate him.

"Jack, understand that none of us will view you as anything lesser," Optimus tried to assure him, but it was too late for that now, "Megatron forced your hand, and we cannot claim that any one of us would have acted differently in your position."

Words, all he heard were empty words. Optimus was saying what he thought Jack would accept, what he wanted to hear. But all Jack had hoped for was a you're going to be alright, he won't hurt you.

Leaving almost guaranteed that he would.

Optimus' engine started, his gentle lurch forward sending Jack's internal organs spiraling, and he thought for sure his nerves were going to get the best of him.

"I think it is time I take you home," the Prime explained his new motion softly. "It is late, and you have school later this morning."

Jack almost wanted to scream at him, wondering how Optimus could think he was going to sleep after this. After hearing that he would tell about this conversation, a conversation Jack wished he had made the Autobot promise to keep secret.

He felt powerless, unable to grasp onto something as things flew out of control, slipping from his fingertips faster than he could handle. Now, more than ever, Jack needed someone to confide in.

But he found that there was no one here he could rely on. He was alone - once again.