CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

XXX

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

This chapter was originally one, then I split it into two when I realized it was almost 8500 words long, but then I decided to merge them back together for a nice Christmas gift . . . though there's no Megatron in this chapter, so it might not be the gift you were expecting.

Also, I don't know if it will affect this work's uploading schedule, as it's slow enough as it is, but some things have been happening lately that have caused me to just stop and withdraw creatively and socially. It's by choice because I need time to process the events and just take some time for myself. So, if I don't update this in a "timely" fashion again, that's why, and I apologize for that.

I hope you guys stay safe and healthy out there, and I hope you enjoy this chapter - though it might get a little emotionally intense at some parts. Thank you, everyone, for reading this and giving me overwhelmingly positive support. :) I hope you continue to enjoy the content I put out, and you'll hear from me again when I'm ready!

XXX

Jack stared out the window of his mother's car, his physical discomfort worsening the closer they were to the Autobot base. For perhaps half a second he seriously considered opening the car door and throwing himself out, if only so he would not have to endure the painful conversation ahead. Such behavior would land him back in the hospital, however, and his already freaked out mother might consider it a suicide attempt, landing him straight in the psychiatric ward. He was not about to do that to her, no matter how much better it would most likely do to spare her from discovering his disgusting secret.

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tight, occasionally glancing in his direction as she tried to decipher what was going on. Jack had just come home from school to his mother on the phone with Agent Fowler, her face pale and hands trembling. Shortly after she instructed him to get in the car, stating they needed to drive to the base, Optimus' orders.

Grimacing, he couldn't - he refused to - look his mother in the eyes. The whole trip was in silence, chewing his lip to the point it was nearly raw, a bump still present where Megatron's bite mark had scarred over. The ring around his shoulder was already healing into thin white lines, those which he subconsciously touched on the ride to the base.

Coming through the large hidden door of the base, he felt anything but comfort within the confines of the missile silo. Agent Fowler stood near the stairs on the catwalk, his expression carefully neutral. Optimus Prime also stood there, Jack fidgeting in his chair. Ratchet was at his computers, but Jack could see in his optics that he knew. No one else appeared to be present, though that could change in an instant.

"Jack," June finally spoke as she got out of the car, carefully shutting the door, "what's going on?"

He ducked his head, not wanting to tell her, hating that this was happening. He hated that he trusted Optimus, instead of just letting things go whatever way they were meant to. Telling him broke his agreement with Megatron, guaranteeing the tyrant would hurt his family now; if he hadn't been so selfish, maybe Megatron would have just hurt him, and left those he loved alone. At least it would look like a random attack then, rather than a rage-fueled revenge stunt.

"June, Jack, if you'd like to come sit," Agent Fowler gestured to the couch, which had been moved so they could also partially face where Optimus was standing. There was a chair as well, which the government agent sat in with a heavy sigh.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's wrong?" June demanded, becoming more agitated with every step up. "Jack, talk to me, please . . ."

"We will explain in due time, Nurse Darby," Optimus said gently, calming just enough of her nerves to get her to comply. She sat on one end of the couch, Jack on the other, the young man feeling the need to vomit once more. He was so nervous his hands were cold and shaking, looking at Agent Fowler's folded hands anxiously. There was a prolonged period of silence, then finally the eldest human spoke aloud.

"Son, do you want to tell us what happened?"

June looked at her son, eyes wide with concern. She did not know whether to reach out, or stay withdrawn, a million concerning scenarios running through her head. What was she to say? To do? What was Jack hiding?

The young man grimaced, cringing, his voice impossibly quiet. "How much do you already know?"

Fowler and Optimus Prime exchanged glances, the Autobot looking far more guilty than the human had ever seen him. He gave their liaison a gentle nod, prompting, Agent Fowler looking back at Jack. The young man had seen everything, his lower lip shaking as he held back tears. He looked upset, betrayed; this was something he had not wanted to come to the light if he could help it.

In that moment, any preconceived notions he had about Jack disappeared, and all he felt was pity.

Poor kid, he had never meant for this to happen.

"I know about Megatron," he said, keeping his voice as soft as possible. He tried to not infantilize the teenager, well aware Jack acted and perhaps felt like he was older than his actual age. Still, this made none of it right, and he wanted him to know that, "and his . . . visitations. Jack, has he hurt you?"

"Hurt you?" June looked back and forth between them. "Megatron? What are you talking about? Jack, what is he saying?"

"Ms. Darby, we ask that you allow Jack to speak with Agent Fowler first," Optimus replied smoothly, "and leave your questions for after Jack has had a chance to discuss what has happened."

Her lips pursed, though Jack could argue he was far more angry with the Autobot leader than she was. How dare he. How dare he pretend to be on Jack's side, when he was the one who told Agent Fowler, and obviously Ratchet, about everything. Jack confided in him, and the Prime obviously had not trusted him to discuss his options with him, perhaps even be adult about the situation. Instead he had turned to his human liaison, apparently just wanting to wash his hands of his problem entirely.

"He never hurt me," Jack replied, not bothering to hide his bitter edge. A partial lie, as he bit a couple of times, but honestly, Jack would not have considered himself hurt by it. "He just . . . he just visited. And we . . . talked."

"About what?" Fowler leaned forward, his tie wrinkling as he did so. "Three months is a long time, and I doubt you were telling him stories, 1001 nights-style."

Jack paused, looking the man in the eyes for a long time. He wondered if this was a game. If Optimus had told him there had been more than just talking, and Fowler was waiting to see if Jack would be truthful with him.

Phantom nips at his neck sent chills across his skin, reminding him there was more to the story than something as simple as a conversation.

His mother's gaze was a heavy weight on him, and he could not bear to return it, nor confess that he had been borderline intimate with the lord of Decepticons in her house, right under her nose.

"Do you know about Amicus?" He asked in turn.

Dark brown eyes flickered back toward the Autobot leader, then a deep breath expanded his shoulders.

"Only a little bit," Fowler admitted, "Prime thought it would be best if you tried to explain things to me."

I'm sure he did, Jack wanted to snarl, holding his tongue and forcing himself to at least pretend he was calm.

Fingers curling into fists on his lap, Jack launched into a story. He tried to be elaborate, but dance around the more delicate subjects which surrounded his ancestor. Try as he might he could not fully ignore his mother's expression, one which told him she thought he had completely lost it. Regardless he pressed forward, detailing how Amicus and the Decepticon tyrant met, why the human was spared, and what he knew about his lineage - at least two, maybe three children, left behind with a single mother. At some point, he mentioned, Amicus and Megatron had become . . . friends . . . and then more. He cringed as Fowler just stared at him, and he began to feel crazy.

It was a wild story, that was for sure, and as he told it even Jack began to question its authenticity. Megatron could have literally spun an entire web of lies, but that hardly made sense; why go through all the work to seduce him? If he had just been obsessed with Jack from the get-go, he doubted the tyrant would have been so delicate about the situation. He did not just pluck the young man from his home, had his way with them, then discarded him once he was finished - a terrifying thought indeed - but rather attempted to forge a true connection with him. Surely, then, at least a part of it was genuine.

Thus, he continued, finishing where Megatron had left off in his tale - Tyger Pax, one which he noticed made Ratchet prickle minutely. From there, he described his first night with Megatron, one which felt a million years away.

June was visibly shaking, Jack still refusing to use more than his peripheral vision to check on her, focused solely on the agent before him. He even ignored Optimus, however he doubted such actions bothered the Prime.

Though merely minutes had passed Jack felt as if it was hours, feeling breathless by the end. He refused to disclose any more information, certainly not about to tell his mother any more details. There was dead silence through the base, even stronger than before he had disclosed this information. At this point, even Ratchet had turned to stare at him, the medic now the first to speak.

"Our intel . . . was leaked by a human?" He asked in complete astonishment. His cerulean optics flickered to Optimus. "Did you know this?"

"Megatron hinted that Amicus was able to provide him with information, however I did not expect it to be as detailed as Jack described," Optimus replied, appearing just as stunned, just less expressive about it, "it would greatly explain why the war became difficult until Iacon was seized once again."

"We nearly lost," Ratchet was still stuck on that part, his mouth opening and closing plenty of times in between, "because Sentinel Prime disclosed everything to a human."

"And now Megatron has fixed his sights on Jack," Agent Fowler brought the conversation back, something Jack wished he hadn't done, "because of Amicus."

"So what," June finally broke her silence, voice sharp and angry, "he wants to have sexual relations with my son because we might be related to Amicus, a man who existed thousands of years ago?"

Jack flinched, feeling ill at the simple fact she had drawn that conclusion so quickly - and had been anything but graceful with it.

"Anywhere from five-thousand to a two-thousand, June, if you wish to assume Amicus was alive during the period you considered 'Ancient Egypt,'" Optimus informed her sensitively, seeming to avoid the whole sexual part entirely, "which the evidence Jack provided suggests he did, as Amicus speaks of pharaohs and Egyptian deities popular during that time. But if I may be so bold, I believe he was alive during the middle or latter periods of this section of human history."

"Why is that?" June crossed her arms, frowning.

Optimus gazed at both of them in turn. "Though I only viewed his image and health records, even I can see pieces of what could be Amicus within you; strong genetic connections which have yet to fade with time."

"Amicus could have hundreds of descendants," June pointed out, "so why Jack?"

The young man felt uncomfortable under the new, scrutinizing gazes above him, grimacing.

"Bad luck, perhaps," Ratchet offered unhelpfully.

"Unfortunately, June, we are aware that humans, royalty in particular, often partook in . . . inbreeding," Optimus tried to be careful about it, and on any other occasion Jack would have paid money to see the Prime look so uncomfortable, "which many of your ancestors could have proliferated with until eventually diversifying, which not only preserves that specific genetic pool, but minimizes additional relatives. You may be part of that core familial tree, however I believe a more plausible explanation is simply convenience. Megatron found Jack first, and his existing connection with Cybertronian cultural through the Autobots may have made him a more desirable target."

June shook her head, looking at her son in exasperation. "Jack?" The second question was unsaid: What do you think of all of this?

He was looking at the rug beneath the couch, wondering why any of this even mattered anymore. It was out in the open now, his mother knew. Why were they talking genetics instead of, oh he didn't know, Megatron visiting him at night? And what did it matter what he thought? Obviously, his personal opinions were no longer pertinent to the conversation, nor his personal feelings. Currently, all that mattered was the fact Megatron's presence was felt - literally and metaphorically - by a personal connection of the Autobots.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, caustic in his approach yet he tried to keep himself restrained. "I've already put us in danger by telling you all of this. We had a deal and . . ."

"A deal with the devil is hardly a fair one at all," Agent Fowler chewed the inside of his lip, sitting up a little straighter. "Optimus and I believe that you both may be in danger - restoring Prime's memories likely set him off, and the fact he hasn't done anything yet is extremely concerning. Because of this, I want to discuss potentially going into Witness Protection."

"What?!" Jack was not sure who said it louder, him or his mother.

"Neither of you are safe with Soundwave able to hack into nearly every government database imaginable if he wanted, and he could find you," Fowler explained to the increasingly hysterical Darbys, "the only way we could guarantee your safety is to completely rewrite your identities and relocate you to a place only we know."

Jack felt as if two large hands had just squeezed his lungs, crushing his ribs in the process.

Leave Jasper? I can't . . . this is my home.

He looked at his mother, finally.

This is her home.

June took a deep, shuddering breath, her fingers curling against her scrub pants and gripping them. Her son was mildly surprised by how . . . calm she seemed about it, his mother already appearing to have accepted this new fate without question. It devastated him, as he knew her decision long before she had even made it.

"Can we . . . take some time to process this, please?" She asked, though Jack knew what she truly meant - if she could have time to process it all. The mere idea of her son being involved in something she had no idea about likely terrified her, and he could not blame her.

"You can," Agent Fowler assured, standing and lightly squeezing her shoulder, "and if there isn't anything else you need from us right now, the both of you can go home. I know it's a lot, but know that we're here for you. Keep up your normal schedules until you decide, and from there we can discuss more options. Thank you for being here, June, on such short notice."

"Yeah," she stood, seeming in a daze. Jack just followed, ducking his head and trying to block out everything around him.

"Son."

Jack wanted to whirl and snap that he wasn't his son, but kept to himself as he looked up, still feeling ill under the Agent's gaze.

"If you need anything, ever, don't be afraid to call." From his wallet he produced a card, one with his name on it and a phone number. Now that he thought about it, Jack had never asked the man for his number, having always assumed he would never need it. He gave an empty nod as he accepted the card, then followed his mother to the car, trying to not look at the two pairs of optics watching them leave.

The trip home was just as silent as the trip to the base, this time Jack looking out the window so he could try to stop himself from getting sick. Motion sickness had never been a real issue for him, but now he felt as if he was going to either pass out or throw up at any time, and he had no plans on risking it.

When they got home his mother quietly placed her keys in their spot, kicking off her shoes. Jack attempted to sneak past her, taking his shoes off and ghosting towards his bedroom door.

"Jack?"

He stopped, gritting his teeth, feeling the immense shame wash over him now, a delayed feeling which he hated. He turned, seeing June standing in the hallway, her arms crossed. He could not tell if she was angry, or disappointed with him.

"Is this why you've been acting weird? Depressed, anxious?" She asked, not allowing for any beating around the bush.

His stomach rolled. "Mom, can we not talk about this now?" He asked, exhausted.

"No," now her expression was more angry, brow furrowing as her lips downturned into a frown. "You need to tell me, now."

"Yes," he finally spat, already irritated and needing no more prompting to become agitated. "Yes, he's the reason I've been acting weird. Happy now?"

"Don't get smart with me," she snapped back, "Jack, you let that . . . that monster into our house, into your room, and didn't tell anyone for . . . god, an entire month? And from what I know, he was doing it with the sole purpose replacing this Amicus! So what was he going to do with you? What do you think he was going to do? What do you think I think?"

"I thought he was going to hurt you! I still think he is, to get to me!" Jack did not care he was raising his voice, "I didn't tell anyone because I was scared of what he would do if I did! We had an agreement, mom, and I trusted him to keep his word-"

"He's the leader of the Decepticons," June pointed out, as if Jack was stupid and did not already know that, "he could have been lying."

"Well, I don't think he was," Jack was unsure why he even bothered to defend the tyrant, finally abandoning any restraint. "And this is why I didn't tell you! Because you would freak out, you'd tell the 'bots, and who knows what could have happened? At least I had control of the situation and was keeping him happy without being scared that any one of you would get hurt!"

"You're scared of him now," his mother put her hands on her hips, "do you think that's healthy?"

"Yes mom," he said with heavy, venomous sarcasm, "because I'm completely stupid and you know everything and I don't know how I could possibly function without you breathing down my neck every waking second of the day!"

"Don't," she snarled, Jack suppressing his instinctual desire to cower as those hands dropped fully to her sides, becoming fists, "you start that with me, young man. You are still a teenager in high school, and you are acting like it right now! Whatever you have with Megatron is dangerous, Jack. You heavily implied that he and Amicus had an intimate relationship - did you think he wouldn't try that with you?"

"I knew full well what he wanted to do," Jack spat back, tired of this argument already and exhausted by his mother's overbearing nature, "but I also knew how to keep him at a distance, and I know this might come as a shocker, but he at least had the decency to give me space when I asked for it!"

"I'm not a manipulative alien machine from a distant planet, I'm you mother," June's face was red, and he could almost rightly assume his was the exact same shade, "and you are a child."

"I'm almost an adult, as you keep pointing out," Jack shot back, "unless that's different now?"

"Damn it, Jack!" She finally was shouting, her voice echoing along the walls as she began to rant, her voice varying in pitches as her anger would get out of control, then she would rein it back in only to lose it once more. "By law you are a minor, and as such you can't make your own decisions, and you can't consent! Do you think I feel good knowing that not only an adult, but a Cybertronian that is thousands, maybe millions of years old, is preying on you? Megatron of all of them, over a completely different man he met God only knows how long ago! I can't understand how you could be so reckless and think any of that, any of this, is a good idea, much less defending it!"

Finally she got a flinch out of him, Jack backing down only slightly as her words pierced through his head. He still felt as if her fear, her anger, was misplaced - because through all of this, though Megatron had been leading him down a more intimate path, he at least remained at Jack's pace. He stopped when he told him to stop, a "no" was taken without question; and though it was debatable, Jack wondered if he truly would have left him alone had he rejected him on the first night. He really believed he would.

These were not excuses, he had to remind himself. He could not ever make excuses for the tyrant. But at the very least, he had some reputable evidence he was not as terrible as June feared he would be.

"I did it to protect you," he said lowly, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. "I did it to protect everyone else too, to at least try and get an upper hand in this war. I had a choice, Mom, and he let me make it on my own. And I chose to do this, because I thought it was the best option. Maybe I was wrong, but it doesn't matter now. Are you going to be pissed off at me because of that too?"

His quiet, yet sour words nudged his mother towards a calmer demeanor, though she was still frustrated and upset with him. That would last for a few hours, as would his own anger.

"I . . ." her voice, too, fell, "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I didn't get hurt," he assured her, finally grabbing the knob of the door to his room. She looked like she wanted to say more, yet he did not give her the opportunity, ready to call it quits for the day and simply finish the conversation. "I'm tired. And I'm going to bed."

He opened his door, for once June just letting him go. It hurt, a little bit, but he was ready to put this argument in the past. There was enough pain knowing his mother knew, and exchanging hateful words with her just exacerbated the agony. Right now, he was ready to sleep, for the first time in a long time truly tired and willing to submit to unconsciousness for a short period of time.

Crashing into the sheets he took a deep breath, closing his eyes slowly.

He wondered if it could get any worse.

XXX

"Megatron will not take this betrayal lightly. It disturbs me how he has yet to act against Jack, and I fear what he may be playing."

" . . . Then . . . I want him to be safe. I want us to disappear, if that's what it takes."

"We'll get him into protective custody immediately, June. I know this is sudden, but your safety is our top priority."

"I can't."

"Jack, you must. You haven't slept well in days, Jack, you even told us yourself. Your gut knows something is wrong, and we won't ignore it."

He looked out the window, at the trees which whizzed by, their leaves startlingly green against the grey sky, the grass equally bright and contrasting.

"But my home is here. With you."

"Megatron knows where your home is, and that puts us all in danger . . . but we can always Groundbridge you, Jack. All you have to do is ask."

It was amazing what could be done when the American government was on your side, Jack thought bitterly. Within the week, they had secured a new house for the Darbys, a new job for June, and a new identity for them all. They had practiced, rehearsed for another week and a half while Jack made his quiet exit from school and work. June did the same, though hers was with much more reluctance and tears. She never cried in front of him, but Jack could hear when she cried in her room, or whenever her voice would crack while talking about the going-away gifts her friends had all gotten her. Every time it happened, it just shoved the knife deeper inside him.

There was one moment where Jack considered just giving himself up to the Decepticons, to tell Megatron to come and have your way with me to get it over with. Yet that was essentially a suicide attempt, and he could not do that to his mother, not after everything they had already been through. She would rather travel to the other corner of the Earth than lose her only son.

At the very least, they were not moving too far away, because the place they had settled on was in Washington state: Parn, Washington. It was near the coast, which he suspected his mother had personally requested; she had always spoke about living near the ocean, having visited it once in her youth when she visited California with her parents. Jack never had the chance to see it, so at the very least he was looking forward to it.

Yet the weather was going to get much colder, something Jack dreaded. He hoped the house had excellent heating.

His thumb skimmed across the top of the phone, flipping it open for the first time since he had been given it.

Nick Dolion

His name, the one which he was told to keep close to his breast and never, ever forget. Jack Darby was to disappear off of the face of the earth.

There was a brief debate on whether to fake his death, enough to convince Megatron it was true, however Optimus concluded it would only make Megatron snap further, likely to take his rage out on whoever - or whatever - they blamed. Because despite his lack of contact, the Prime believed he still held certain feelings for Jack.

That, or he would be livid that he could not conduct the execution himself.

I have to change everything about me because I'm hiding from a space terrorist.

The absolute strangeness of it all was almost laughable if he did not genuinely fear for his life and that of his mother's. She had taken it all in surprisingly good stride, though that did not mean they did not still fight about it.

That was why the car was silent. Because June - April - could not understand why her son did not tell her or Arcee about this sooner. Why would he keep it a secret? Did he not trust her?

No. Because I was afraid he would hurt you.

If you were afraid, why did you not refuse him the first time? What made you think you could do this?

He closed his eyes. What was I thinking?

Apparently, he was not.

Taking a breath, he flipped his phone back down and returned his gaze to the window. He was not sure what he was expecting when he opened it - Miko and Raf were forbidden from texting him. As much as the former protested and yowled, it was a part of the Witness Protection program that was vital. If Soundwave somehow got access to either one of their phones . . .

He grimaced, well aware he was still leaving the pair without a true, proper send-off. It was a last-minute bombshell he had been putting off because he knew what the outcome would be. Miko tried to make him stay, tried to come up with a plan to lure Megatron back and ambush him, which was absolutely ridiculous despite her trying to insist it would work. Rafael then cried, which made Jack cry, and finally Miko did too.

"You better visit, or I'm gonna make Arcee hunt you down."

That was another part of the deal - they could not have his new address. The Autobots were already putting protocols in place to wipe the Groundbridge history every time they would use the device to bring him to base, in the event a Decepticon did manage to get in and tried to find Jack's whereabouts through those means.

They were not to take any chances of any sort, for the sake of the Darby - Dolion - family's safety.

With the exception of April Dolion's number, he had the Autobots stored on his device, because no Cybertronian could access another's files remotely like they could a cellphone. Soundwave was good, but not that good.

"Look," his mother's voice jolted him from his thoughts, Jack nearly having a heart attack as she broke the silence. "We're here."

The sign was marble, reading Welcome to Parn in almost calligraphy-like lettering, the town seeming to spring up from the trees. It was nice, Jack realized, looking around at some stores which were clearly more higher-end, though he was comforted by the occasional affordable store which cropped up. His surprise at how nice it was soon gave way to awareness.

Agent Fowler had ensured they would be placed in a comfortable, borderline luxurious city - for what purpose, Jack could only guess. Did he feel guilty? If anything, it was Jack that should be guilty. They should have been shoved in some quiet little village, not a nice, clearly large town.

The Agent was driving in front of them, an escort to ensure things ran smoothly as the Darby's traveled to their new home. Jack would not brave asking him about all of this, firstly afraid he would sound ungrateful, and secondly because he was truly in no position to question anything.

June followed the sleek car, turning the wheel of their nice car down a newly paved road, which wound through the woods once more.

It's all . . . plush, Jack could not believe this was all slapping him in the face at the same time. All of that time spent thinking in this car, and he did not once think about how this was all . . . not affordable for them. His mother was not materialistic by any means, much preferring to save her money on the off chance they would need it. She made plenty with her nursing job and hours, yet they always lived with just enough.

For goodness' sake, he had to work at KO Burger to start saving up for his first vehicle.

"In 500 feet, the destination is on your right."

Both Darbys craned their necks, trying to get a good look at the home through the trees.

The driveway - well, what Jack thought was a gravel driveway at first - was long and gravel, twisting into the foliage. Fowler turned, June following him carefully as the tires of their car ate into the rocky road. As they neared the neighborhood Jack saw how close everything was, one house nearly bumped up against another, merely separated by what he originally mistook for giant porches. As they turned and began to pass by the rows of homes, heading towards the one they would call their own, he realized he was sorely mistaken.

They were not just porches, but docks. The homes were directly above the water, the Pacific ocean lapping against the long legs of each one. Families milled about on them, laughing and acting as if they were in any other home, not ones which Jack considered extremely odd. At least in Jasper he had a true yard, one with grass which was against solid ground. This was, perhaps, the exact opposite of the place he had once grew up in.

Finally their cars stopped, pulling off into the left side, where the area had been cleared away for what was essentially a gravel driveway. It was just long enough for the cars to park comfortably, but not more. Agent Fowler stepped out, gesturing to the two-story home across from the road, the one which they would be staying in for the rest of their lives.

It was a two-story, wooden home which had a bright, and very brick-like siding, several faces of the house possessing large and modern-like windows around every face. A few steps lead up into the "porch," which was then planar with the rest of the dock, Jack briefly wondering if there was a "basement" into the water. He decided that would be unsafe, and a stupid idea, reluctantly stepping out with his mother.

The chilled air hit Jack first, causing a shiver to sweep through him before he settled, and once the breeze was gone it actually was not too bad. Next was the smell of the woods and ocean, an earthy scent intermixed with saltine which only made him miss the smell of sand and desert. It was such a stark contrast he nearly cried, but kept it together as his mother took several steps towards the front door.

When it came to furniture, Agent Fowler had allowed June to select what she wanted, having already provided plenty of pictures of the interior of the home and exterior, wanting the Darby's as involved in the process as possible. He said himself he wanted this transition to be quick, easy, and smooth for everybody, Optimus agreeing that it was in their best interest to not delay. The longer they lingered, the more likely Megatron would return and sink his claws into Jack's flesh.

Which would not be a new sensation to him, though maybe slightly different, given Jack had only experienced his teeth.

It was all supposed to be set-up once they arrived, settling in as if they had lived there for years. The majority of their personal items were moved into the new home, with the exception of what June insisted on bringing up to Parn herself. Photos, keepsakes she was attached to, the like. Jack grabbed a couple of books, but he could not focus enough to read - or even pretend to read.

Agent Fowler walked up to the front entrance with them and offered a smile, though it appeared partially apologetic.

Stop it. Stop doing that. I'm the one that should be sorry.

June took the house keys out of her pocket, unlocking the front door and stepping inside, Fowler allowing Jack to go next before he followed them inside.

The aesthetic of the home was modernization, however several of its exterior and interior walls were made with wood, and the drywalls were various shades of grey depending on the room. There was more open planning as well, though there were barriers preventing people on the first floor seeing much of the second.

"We have all the furniture moved in, though we kept most of your things in boxes for you to put wherever you wanted it," Fowler broke the silence as the Darby's absorbed their new home. "There is a master bedroom on both floors, and one additional bedroom upstairs. Though, that could be an office space, and there's an office on the first floor too. Two and half bathrooms, a full kitchen and dining table, and living room area."

"Thank you, Bill," June turned to look at him, Jack feeling obligated to do the same.

"There's a beach about one mile south of the neighborhood, if you'd like to walk along it. And I'm pretty sure the dock area, which is fenced off from your neighbors, is self-explanatory," He continued, clearly not wanting to leave just yet; Jack figured he would want to have a little talk with him before he left. "But if you have any questions, please feel free to call."

"I will," the woman assured him, also seeming to sense he was not ready to leave. "Is there something else?"

There was a pause, then the Agent looked to Jack. "If there is anything, if Megatron finds you again, or tries to find you, let us know immediately. Your safety is our top priority, Jack."

And yet my happiness is not . . .

Swallowing the selfish, so very selfish thought, he nodded, trying to straighten up just a tad and convince the Agent he was serious. "I will. I promise."

Fowler nodded, slowly, then gathered the car keys in his hand and gave them to Jack. "I know it isn't a motorcycle, but apparently Uncle Sam has a few more strings than what even I can pull. The 'bots will bridge me back."

"Wait-" Jack stopped, staring at the keys in his palm. The Mercedes symbol flashed back at him, though this last . . . gift . . . it was too much. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. You're gonna need it to get to school and town," Fowler pointed out, however that did nothing to ease Jack's insecurities. Though when the boy said nothing he took that as his cue, saluting the pair before making his way to the front door. Jack heard the whisper of a Groundbridge as it opened in the foyer, suppressing the urge to follow him through it, to beg for Optimus to let them stay in Jasper.

It was too late for that now.

His mother took a deep breath. "That's right. You start school Monday," she said quietly.

It was Thursday.

"I guess . . . we should start unpacking," Jack tried to sound enthusiastic, however he knew it was useless. There was still tension between them, and he did not want to sound like a jerk by acting as if everything was okay. As if this move was great.

His mother nodded, taking a deep breath. "I think I'll take the master bedroom down here. You can have the upstairs."

He paused, a little surprised by this offering. "I- you don't want upstairs?"

"I've never lived in a two-story house," June shrugged. "I think I prefer to be close to the ground anyways - and I don't want to trudge up a flight of stairs after a long overnight."

Jack realized what she was saying, though he almost did not want it to be true. "You . . . I get the whole floor?"

"Why not?" She suggested. "We have a lot more space - half of the house for me, the other half for you."

There was a long moment where Jack could not decide if he was dreaming or not. All of these gifts, these amenities . . . and for what?

"Mom, I don't deserve that," he said, finally saying what was on his mind. "I don't deserve this. I should have been shipped off to a high-security military base somewhere, not a nice coastal house in Washington. You shouldn't have had to move with me."

"I'm your mother," she said, establishing her stance, "there is nowhere you would go that I would not follow, not until you're an adult."

"I- still," he tried for a joke, "you should at least banish me to the basement - if this house even has one."

There was a brief moment where a smile cracked across her lips, but then it was replaced with a serious expression. "It doesn't. And I'm not banishing you anywhere, Jack."

"You should."

"No, I shouldn't," she put her hands on her hips, gazing up at her boy. "I've done a lot of thinking on that car trip, Jack, and I realized I was wrong for even considering this was your fault. I was angry because you didn't tell me, or the Autobots, but after thinking back . . . remembering how sick you became after your trip to Cybertron, it all made sense. You were scared in your own home, Jack, a place where you should feel safe. A place I should have made safe. This was my own failure for not listening when you were obviously telling me something."

"You would have never guessed," he argued, getting cut off again.

"You're right," she agreed, expression fierce, "but now I know, and I will make sure he never tries to hurt you again. Which is why I didn't fight Agent Fowler in the end when he suggested Witness Protection; because I want to keep you safe, Jack. I hope you realize I did this, willingly, because I love you."

Her conviction nearly made Jack cry, somehow simultaneously relieving his guilt and increasing it. He wished he could just accept this was happening, but it was hard.

He left his only friends behind because of one mech, a mech by all accounts he should have never, ever seen.

It was fated we would meet.

"I'll make sure it never happens again," he wished he could promise her, but even with the therapy, the confession, the move . . . His feelings remained.

Selfish. You're selfish.

"As will I," June assured him, more confident than he. She gently pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight in assurance that she would not let him go. "Let's get unpacking, shall we?"

"Yeah . . ." he said, letting her be the one to pull away from him. "I guess I'll start upstairs."

She smiled, a slightly bigger spring in her step as the two of them first unpacked the vehicles, then turned to the boxes in the living room, where they waited patiently for their contents to be placed lovingly on countertops or mantels.

Jack grabbed one labeled with his name and took it up the stairs, which were wooden and untextured, the young man making a mental note to not slip and fall down them and break his neck. As he got to the top, he saw there was a very small "foyer" area, where what appeared to be a bedroom terminated immediately in front of him.

Stepping inside he instantly recognized it as the master bedroom of this floor, which had a bathroom that actually connected him to the second room. There were two sinks, which he jokingly thought he could use one when the other got too dirty and he did not feel like cleaning it.

Yeah, his mom would kill him if he even seriously considered doing that.

The bedroom was large, easily one and a half times the size of his in Jasper. There was a bare bedframe with a mattress resting on top waiting for him directly to his left, which faced a bare wall. On that same side, but on the wall - if it could even be called that - directly opposite of his door was a massive set of dragging blinds, which would cover the window that made up said wall. If he remembered his directions correctly, that was the west-facing wall, so he would not be too bothered by the sun when it rose in the east of a morning.

Setting his box down he padded over to the window, lightly pressing his weight against it to see how solid it was. It did not budge, however he was unnerved by the idea of leaning against it.

He could see directly out into the ocean, the gentle waves giving the desert-dweller an unsettled feeling. June would certainly want to go to the beach there some time today, so she could touch the ocean for the first time in several years.

That was a little exciting to think about.

Heading back downstairs Jack sought out and carried his things to the upstairs, deciding that he would make the second bedroom an office space, and maybe even a mini-gym. The young man had always told himself he should work out regularly . . . with an area right there in his home, he would have no excuse.

The bathroom was also nice, though Jack did not know how to feel about the fact it was just a shower, and had no curtains to conceal the bather, though its glass was warped and meant to create some privacy. It was still odd, and he wondered if the bathtub was downstairs.

Not like I take baths anyways . . . still weird.

The house was nice, as he guiltily suspected, wondering too if Agent Fowler had the same sentiments as his mother, which was why he went to such great lengths to give. Because he thought he failed Jack.

Great. Going from one guilt complex to another.

Jack tried to look on the bright side, seeing it as an opportunity to start fresh and maybe have more opportunity now that he was out of the small town of Jasper, however that did not help in the slightest.

He closed his eyes, trying to take a deep breath that did not feel so dramatic.

It's fine. We'll be fine. We'll get through this.

I have to.

XXX

Saturday found Jack on the beach, looking out over the ocean water. Though he initially expected the ocean to fit the aesthetic of the rest of the weather - grey, dreary, bleak - it was a startling bright blue, almost green. A bright jewel against the dull yellow sand, which was occasionally broken up by rocky outcroppings which plagued the Washington coast. This was the second time in his life he had ever seen the ocean, the first being yesterday with his mom - he was not sure he would count his "back yard," as this was the first time he had ever been on a beach, which was a part of the ocean. A half of the whole.

There was hesitance to touch the water, as he was scared it would snatch him and drag him away from shore. Jack barely knew how to swim, and did not think it was a good idea to try and learn from Poseidon.

I wonder who the Egyptian god of the sea is . . . if they have one.

Surely they did, but he resisted the urge to look. That would just freak his mom out - she knew about Amicus, his heritage, and what Jack had been willing to share. Well, he had shared that with Optimus, who in turn told everybody else.

Bitterness wrapped itself around his heart, still unable to come to terms with the reality that Optimus had done that: violated his trust, exposing his insecurities to the world. Sure, he was doing it to keep Jack safe, but the lack of tact was what really bothered the young man.

His toes dug into the sand, which was another thing he could not quite compute just yet. Unlike the dry desert sand, here it was clumpy and cold, victims of the ever-changing tides of the ocean. Though he wished it could remind him more of home, at the same time he thought the notion would do more harm than good. He was Nick now, as painful as it was to introduce himself that way to his neighbors.

The Dolion's were from Texas, moving up to Washington for new opportunities and for "April's" new job. They had no family outside of themselves, which was true, and were eager to integrate themselves into this new town.

The family next door seemed nice enough, they even made a pie to bring over and greet their new neighbors. It was a family of four, a father, mother, and two daughters, both of which were a little less than ten years Jack's junior. His mother assured him he would make plenty of friends his age at school, however the young man was not sure if he was comfortable with that just yet. He had the weekend to prepare.

His new phone buzzed and caught him off guard, flipping it open to see April's name flashing at him.

Dinner is almost done. Are you heading back soon?

He smiled a little. Yeah, at the beach. I'm coming home now.

Standing, he brushed his shorts off and slid his sandals back on, heading back towards the home.

The walk there was quiet, the white noise supplemented by the birds and occasional neighbor as he trekked down the gravel "road." It was extremely peaceful, and something he did not want to ever get used to. Jack supposed that was what he could appreciate about this new home: it was gentle, but it held a different kind of peacefulness over it than Nevada. Where the silence of the desert seemed to promise something malevolent, here the ambience was like something straight out of a calm Disney movie.

Entering the home he made his way into the kitchen, the tile floor cool against his bare feet. June smiled at him, looking more relaxed than he had seen her for the past several weeks.

"I've almost finished spaghetti and no-meat meatballs," she announced, gesturing to the pan. "Could you stir the sauce? I'll set the table."

"Of course," he got right on it, allowing a feeling of normalcy to settle over him. The clinks of the plates and cups kept him grounded, and he eventually transferred the pan of sauce onto a wooden coaster and brought it to the table. June had already dished out the spaghetti, making it easy for them to sit and immediately begin to eat.

"How was the beach?" She asked, trying to make conversation.

"Quiet," he said, remembering the lull of the waves against the shore. It was an oddly calming sight and sound to absorb. "Which I think I like."

She smiled, chuckling softly before becoming a little serious. "Just be careful, okay? The water can be dangerous."

He nodded. "I wasn't thinking of swimming in it. Not until I get some lessons from, like, a pool or something. Something safe."

Another laugh. "That sounds like a good plan."

Dinner was otherwise quiet, though they occasionally attempted to talk about things regarding the home, wanting to not make things too awkward. They could not talk about their past home life, not anymore. As much as Jack wished they would, he knew his mother would not allow it, for fear they would eventually let something slip.

Helping her clean up, Jack eventually ghosted his way upstairs to get ready to turn in for the night.

He had one more day before presenting to the local school, one that had almost twice as many kids in one class than Jasper did in the entire building. It was intimidating to think about, though he supposed it was for the best - at least with a large class size he would not stick out as much. Friends might be hard to come by, however he was not really in the market for any. The young man had plenty of those back at home.

Home. That was not in Jasper anymore. He would have to stop thinking about it like that - home was Parn, Washington, and it would be for the rest of his life.

His gut twisted. As much as he hated the thought, this was his reality. His stupid, stupid reality, which could have been avoided if he was not such a coward.

When in bed all he did was stare up at the ceiling, feeling sorry for himself and hating that he did. A part of him wished he could have just been normal, having lived in ignorant bliss of the Autobot and Decepticon war. That way, even if Megatron did find him, he would at least not feel so guilty about being with him. Enjoying him. Loving him.

"Pull yourself together, Nick," he muttered into the silence. "They don't exist anymore. You don't exist."

Closing his eyes, he waited for the blissful embrace of sleep to take away his pain.

It was slow, painful, yet eventually the young man drifted off into unconsciousness.