Raf wasn't sure what to do. Watching his best friend and guardian spiral into thinking he was useless was hard. Especially since Raf knew how much Bee already felt down about himself. Megatron took his voice from him, Ratchet said it was long ago it happened, but those injuries stuck. Now that the bots hang out with humans more, it was a constant wound. Raf couldn't imagine how hard it would have been if he couldn't understand Bee. That may be why when Fowler called during 't-cog surgery,' he promised to let Optimus know. He didn't; he let Bee go.

He knew it wasn't a smart move, but he was just a kid. He saw his friend, an older brother, get taken by the enemy. He wouldn't let the other wallow in despair when he had a chance to change that. Miko wholeheartedly agreed with his depiction, which made him cringe at himself. Raf knew one thing. Whether Bee came back with his t-cog or not, Ratchet would dismantle him when he woke.

Raf turned from the screens to the sedated medic. He could hear the physician's arguments, many would echo his own beliefs, but that didn't matter at the moment. Raf had to believe in his friend, just like he believed Jack not long ago. A reassuring hand on his shoulder helped him justify his choice.

"Well, little Raffy, welcome to the club."

He just shook his head. 'Of course, Miko would think of it that way.' Raf grumbled to himself. The moaning of the downed medic made both stiffen. Miko's warm hand previously on his shoulder slipped off. Raf could hear Miko's boots shuffling against the metal platform. He could tell she was about to run. All was still for them as they both watched Ratchet get his bearings. At least that was true till a rushing Wheeljack appeared from the halls. He looked frantic and what Raf would like to say was glee, but he couldn't see enough to tell.

"Ratchet, thanks, Primus! I have been trying to contact you for fifteen minutes." The wrecker was now crowding the still dazed medic. Raf could see him bouncing with excess energy. Before the doctor was prepared, Wheeljack grabbed his upper armor and shook him gently.

"Ratchet, it worked." Those simple words seemed to gather Ratchet's attention quickly. His head shot up, and he stared at the other mech with barely concealed shock. Raf hadn't ever seen the red and white bot like it before. Raf knew that if Ratchet was happy, it must have been something good, and considering Miko was in the room, it couldn't be related to her.


Wheeljack was bored. He got called back to help the doc with something. The irritable mech hadn't even included why Ratchet needed his help in the message. For all Wheeljack knew, they were calling to tell him Bulkhead kicked the can, which was a grim possibility. By the time Ratchet bridged him in, he was all but ready for the news. He mentally prepared himself to avoid losing it in front of Bulk's little wrecker. The girl didn't need to see that.

Wheeljack agreed with the doc on his stand about having humans join their war. They didn't need to be there, but he had no input. He was flying solo now, making his own choices with his ship and life. However, he would do his best to protect them if needed. Over time he learned to respect them just like any other soldier. That thinking he knew was dangerous. They weren't soldiers; they were children. They needed to be treated differently.

Luckily, that scenario with Bulk never happened. No, what did happen was being dragged to visit the med bay. Since it was both the med bay and by the grumpiest bot he ever had the pleasure to meet, Wheeljack struggled. If he were timing it, he would guess about half an earth hour passed, filled with struggling and arguments. It wasn't till he was in the room he even remotely quieted.

It was the familiar Mechling in the berth that caught his attention. He knew he had seen the bot before. The colors, frame, and faceplate all itched at his processor. It was right there, below the surface, unwilling to come out.

Hearing the story behind the bot didn't help the nagging sensation. The report did intrigue Wheeljack. He worked with the source projector before. He was one of the few interested in it after they developed common holo form projectors. Before the war, he had several interests; creating a more advanced version of projectors was just one of his hobbies. His younger self couldn't have even fathomed the source projector could work with a stasis-locked mech.

Then the doc decided to enlist him in creating a new projector using spare parts and the broken source projector. Wheeljack would love to say he turned down the crazy plan, but the idea was fascinating, especially when he knew Ratchet came up with it. He couldn't turn down the simple call for help, so they got to work.

All that hard work and worry had led to the current situation. Wheeljack was staring at the same states as before for more than a full Earth rotation. No change in the activity of his mind. Vitals were steady like they have been since installation. He was regretting his choice to be the hovering medic. The role better suited the doc more than him. He wondered if the rest of the team forgot he was there or if Ratchet ordered them to leave him alone. Knowing Ratchet, they might not have even known he was there. The doc did comment on not telling the boss. 'He probably had some ludicrous idea that giving them hope would be bad.' Wheeljack concluded with a shrug of his armored shoulders.

He fiddled with his grenade for the 7th time that hour. Boredom was eating away at him. It wouldn't hurt to check on the team; he could help them. They all seemed stressed over something. When the doc came in early, he grumbled about a missing t-cog and hot-headed muscle cars. Wheeljack just let him be; when the doc was in a mood, all were best to stay clear unless they wanted a wrench to the helm.

Groaning, he shuffled his weight against the wall.

"I'm going to rust at this rate." He complained about a mostly empty room. Looking back at the unconscious patient, he still had the niggling feeling.

"You know this will be easier if your new projector works. Ratchet designed it specifically for you." He gestured to the schematics cluttering a screen on the far wall. They were precise and well thought out. Ratchet didn't even need his help, but he tried anyway.

"Well, it's not as we could have installed it in anyone else; with source projectors scanning capabilities broken, you're stuck with it." Shifting, he moved his servos behind his helm, resting more against the metal wall. Looking away from the boring company, he eyed the ceiling.

Then a long beep interrupted his counting of the pipes lining the ceiling. It was a beep he could tell didn't mean anything good. He was on his pedes and rushing to the monitors. What previously held a constant and active brain pattern was now fluctuating. It looked like two minds merged into one. At some points, they connected and flowed but then, a click later, they separated. That wasn't so shocking, the bot's brain waves were like that before, but they weren't this far off from being in sync before. Now it looked like one mind was experiencing something else. Scratching his faceplate, he looked from the monitor to the ignorant Mechling.

He gathered his tools, scanning over till he froze on the newly installed projector. The projector was still offline then; now, it was activating. One thought came to mind.

'Doc got to know.'

He was out the door heading down the hall with purpose the next click.


"So wait, let me get this straight.." The mech next to him was groaning into his servos while Jack felt slightly satisfied.

'Dude made me question my existence and humanity and caused a mental breakdown; I have a right to be slightly happy with his pain.' That was how Jack tried to justify it, but even he knew it was wrong to be vengeful. That still didn't stop the smile when the mech groaned once more. The smile slipped with his next thought. ' But if we are the same, am I enjoying my pain, or are we separate?' Jack decided not to think too hard about that. 'Rather not have another breakdown.'

"So you're saying our frame is in the servos of the Decepticons and not just anyone, but the lord of them all." The mech looked at Jack with a hilariously shocking face that he had to keep his laughter in check. That didn't stop him from the few chuckles that escaped.

"I guess." Jack just shrugged; it wasn't like he could do anything about it. They were both in this place, and neither knew what it was.

"This is not good."

"Yup." Jack agreed.

"Were either going to die or be tortured."

"If you count squishing as torture, I already have been." Jack pointed out.

"Great." Crossroads deadpanned.

"So... You don't have a symbol."

Jack watched the mech touch his chassis.

"Guess not."

"Why?"

"Guess I don't fully believe in either cause."

"What's that mean to mean." Jack frowned at the strange answer. Never before did he hear about a con or a bot who was unsure which side they fit on. Starscream and Airachnid both claimed to be alone sometimes, but they were firmly in the evil self-interest category for him.

"In war, no side's perfect."

That state rang with a weight Jack could understand. It was something he wasn't sure Miko and Raf understood yet. They were both intelligent and understanding, but they were also mesmerized by alien robots fighting. They overlook the possibility that both sides caused their home to be gone. War was still war.

"Oh." He whispered.

"Yeah." His companion echoed.

They both rested there, watching the still too blue sky. Slowly, a tired feeling settled over Jack. His lids became heavy. He could hear Crossroads talk, but it was like he was underwater. Slowly that disappeared as well, taken over by nothing.

Blue fills his vision. He was assaulted by a harsh white light when he opened his eyes again. The light moved from eye to eye. The noise came back next.

"...told you it worked."

"Be quiet; his projector's still finalizing." A familiar cranky voice complained.

"I think I liked it better when just the kid and me in here."

Ratchet tsked at the solo wrecker.

Jack was confused. He was lying down, and Ratchet was hovering over him. It was not the sight he expected to see. Knockout glaring at him, sure. Vehicons, sure. Anything Decepticon-related, he would have been prepared. Ratchet and Wheeljack just left his mind blank.

Opening his mouth, he was about to talk when an unpleasant shock shifted through his body. He felt a buzzing around him. Grimacing, he touched his throat. That caused him to catch sight of his hand. He froze in shock, the pain fading as he looked at his hand. It was glowing, which he was used to, but what he was so absorbed by was the static look. It reminded him eerily of when Arcee activated her hologram. He was used to seeing the static and slight transparency on her, not himself.

Closing his eyes, he wished he was back with Crossroads. He would have someone else to be miserable with; after all, misery loves company.

"Jack, Jack, can you hear us?" The question was loud and clear, but he didn't want to answer.

"Doc, he may not be Jack." Wheeljack Kindly pointed out. That just caused him to smile in mirth. 'Guess they know the situation.' He realized. Opening his eyes, he thought back to the last time he had been conscious. He was with this mom on the Decepticon warship. It was a shocking change to be back all of a sudden. He knew his mom must have been worried.

'Mom!'

He bolted upright, looking around frantically. Every time he tried to talk, he would grimace thanks to the static pain. The shocks would make his body flicker, but he didn't care. He could hear both the mechs yelling at him to calm down, but he didn't care. If they got him out but left his mom, he wouldn't be able to forgive them. Standing was a pain with how sluggish he was, but he managed. He got a good look at the mech in the berth not far from him. The familiar colors were more scratched than his dream, same face, and frame. All was there, but reality included something. Upon his chassis was a silver Autobot symbol. That floored him. At that very second, his voice decided to work. It echoed in the room.

"Crossroads…"