Five minutes.
That's all he needed.
'I wish I could breathe again'; it was a small wish. Sadly each attempted breath Jack couldn't feel; thus, they were pointless.
His body felt light. Jack's senses dulled to the point of nonexistent. Closing and opening his hands generated a static buzz. Each shuffle of his legs felt like air. His clothes were strangely sensitive.
Overall, nothing made sense.
The arguing over the past minutes also wasn't helping him.
"I told you I knew him!" The wreckers were bragging again.
"Please, you only remembered thanks to Jack." The medic argued back once more.
"Yeah, but does the kid know who Crossroads is?" The question was a good one. One Jack honestly had no answer. He purses his lips in frustration; he's so lost.
"Well, if you stop gloating, we may just find out." Ratchet was annoyed, Jack could tell. Jack was also done with their back and forth. Currently, he was sitting on the edge of the berth containing Crossroads. It felt soothing being near. The calming presence was more effective in keeping Jack from freaking out, which was highly needed.
Resting his head on his stretched palm, Jack wondered if they would notice if he left to find his mom. Or found someone to tell him what the scrap was going on.
Groaning, Jack buried his face in his hands. The feeling on both his face and hands was more electric than it should have been.
'Frag, I need five minutes to collect myself.'
The universe didn't fulfill his wish. Instead, he had both bots crowd around him again. Looking up from his strange hands, he took in the expectant looks they gave him. Dread filled him. His body tensed of its own accord.
"What?" He knew he was being snappy, but he couldn't help it. He was so off-kilter he would have even been irritable with his mom. The exasperated glare he received from Ratchet was a dead ringer for one his mom would give him. Jack squirmed, feeling his frown drop. Now he purposefully looked at everything but the bots in front.
"Who are you?" The simple question caused Jack's head to spin. The ways to answer that question were numerous, several were on the tip of his tongue, but he just signed. His body folded in on himself as he reluctantly answered.
"Jackson Darby."
He heard the audible vent of both bots still hovering.
"It worked, told yah Doc!" Now Wheeljack was back to bragging. This time Jack looked up to see his enormous smile. The smile was contagious, Jack could feel his lips twitch, wanting to join the wrecker in celebration, but Ratchet's stern face said it wasn't the wisest.
"Ratchet." The medics' optics were on him. The worry and joy they held were reassuring.
"What happened?"
The medic's face stiffened as he looked away.
"Primus, more than I care to admit." Ratchet's servos were rubbing over his face, and the clang of metal echoed in the room.
"Kid, I know you're confused, but the Doc got to go fix up the little scout." The interruption was shocking. 'How long was I out!?'
"What happened to Bee?" The way Ratchet avoided his gaze and Wheeljack's stony face only caused him to worry more.
"Let's just say, taking a bot's ability to transform is one of the crueler punishments in the universe." At that statement, Ratchet stood and headed to the door. He was purposeful with his steps out. Jack followed his retreating figure with worry.
"Kid?"
Jack turned his head to the bot. His head felt heavy with worry and confusion. Looking down, he observed his new clothes. The color was familiar and comforting. Pinching the blue cargo pants, he marveled at how he could feel even the pinch, though severely dulled. The Energon blue of his jacket caught his attention next. It was bright and familiar. The darker blue pattern was nearly identical to his other half. Warmth filled him as he thought of the change. The simple white shirt underneath was a comfort. Kicking his feet up, he saw new sneakers, the same color as most of his outfits. He had a color scheme matching his counterpart's colors.
"Listen, I don't know all the details, but I can help fill in the gaps while Ratchets busy." The wrecker shifted sheepishly, eyeing Jack as if he may break. Breathing in, Jack still couldn't feel the relief that typically followed that action. He nodded to the wrecker, not trusting his voice.
The white mech situated himself on the wall, leaning on it while nodding. Once settled, both eyed one another warily. The silence was conformable but filled with a tense expectation. Wheeljack shifted, resting his servos on his leg joints, and looked upon the ceiling.
"I got called by the Doc around two days ago. It was urgent. Lucky for him, I was in the area taking care of something." He paused on that; Jack figured he was lost in thought. He seemed to zone back in quickly as he continued his story.
"Well, my business wasn't going so well, so I returned. Imagine my surprise to be shown both a mechling and the Source Projector." His chuckle was throaty and deep. The comforting sound almost caused Jack to forget about what he said.
Jack felt something click when he heard that last word. Source Projector. It resonated with him. Vaguely he could feel a memory brush past him. It was necessary, one he shouldn't have forgotten. Biting his lip, he tried to grasp the wispy memory. Like flicking a switch, information filled his mind.
Jack gasped, cupping his head. He knew what made him, The Source Projector, a relic of the ancients, housing the ability to mimic other species to a near-perfect degree. His panic picked up as he remembered the rest. The Projector was deemed dangerous over its ability to cause permanent damage to the Cybertronian if harmed. That left one question for Jack. How did Crossroads even end up with it?
The memories still out of his reach were far more frustrating than he initially suspected. Parting his lips, he spoke.
"What happened to the Projector? I'm still here, but different. What happened?"
Wheeljack halted his questions by shaking his head.
"Kid, when I arrived, the Projector was as good as scrap. There's no way we could have fixed it to what it once was. But get this, the Doc came up with blueprints to create a new projector based on the parts we could salvage." A proud smile spread across his faceplate, puffing his chest plates out as he gestured at Jack. "I think we succeed; you are the walking proof."
The smile on his faceplate soon faded as he slumped back against the wall. The atmosphere shifted, and Jack shivered despite not feeling cold.
"Though, you are different. The Source Projector was a marvel. Honestly, no one could tell you weren't human till the side effects of not having enough energy started. If you and Doc figured out the correct Energon doses, you probably would have lived a relatively normal life."
Jack was shocked. Then he was angry.
He felt robbed.
Ignorance was bliss, and Jack prepared to stay blissful for the rest of his life. He hadn't wanted to stay with the bots when he met them. They scared him because it meant Jack would have to face reality. He wasn't normal, he wasn't born normal, Jack wasn't human, but he could have pretended if Megatron hadn't taken that chance from him. His stupid servos crushed his only chance to stay human. Now he was in a projector created from his crushed dreams. That was a sobering thought.
"But how am I here, and Crossroads?" He questions, pointing to the ground and then the frame he was currently leaning on. The warm plating was helping ground him.
"From what Ratchet told me, the bots raided the cons ship when they found Crossroads pod. They found both your Projector, carrier and the mechling." Jack felt a weight leave him. His mom was safe, not with that human-hating warlord.
"My mom's okay, right?" Jack bolted up, worrying back once more.
"Relax, everyone's fine, even Bee. Though I'm not sure about his t-cog." Wheeljack soothed him, the smile gruff. His optics pulse with sincerity that allowed Jack to recline back and think.
Jack chuckled, "I am so grounded ."
"Big-time, I expect the gang will be on your aft after this."
"I think that's what almost dying does to those that care. It makes them want to wrap you in bubble wrap."
Wheeljack nodded along, amusement dancing in his optics.
He wasn't sure how the kid was so calm. The newly projected Jack was currently resting against his frame, looking up with a vacant expression. Wheeljack saw this expression several times before; it always indicates when someone has lost touch with reality.
Honestly, he couldn't blame the kid for being a little out of the loop. He went through more than any of Team Primes humans should have from what Doc told him. If Bulk's little wrecker had been through half what Jack had been, he would have been furious. Wincing, Wheeljack now understood Ratchet's foul mood whenever dealing with the boy's carrier.
He may not know the human female very well, but the few arguments between her and Ratchet were all he needed. June was a force that would have made a good commander if she was an Autobot. Strict and steadfast were two words he could label the carrier. Those principles molded Jack's personality. He felt terrible for the mechling in some ways.
Though Jack's personality was also close to someone he had heard of during the war.
Crossroads was a mechling known for his reputation, not appearance. That's not saying no one knew what the mech looked like. Many knew, but he changed his paint often to be less noticeable. A tactic many did during that time.
Crossroads was a renowned courier. One of the few still on Cybertron during the beginning of the war. There were other couriers, but what made Crossroads different was he didn't have any particular alliance. He took jobs equally among both sides, and during that time, the sides weren't as defined. The cons weren't all evil, and the bots weren't the peacekeepers they appeared to be. It was messy, with bots and cons switching sides each day. Neutrals in the war were leaving fast, heading off to who knows where.
Wheeljack remembered the first and only time he met the courier. His group was stuck, pinned down by the enemy without any ability to call for help. They decided to hunker at an abandoned bar. That had been the right choice till they heard pede steps approach their location.
To all their surprise, they stood facing a smiling mechling. The black and red paint faded with a worn courier symbol on him. All he carried was a datapad and communications amplifier.
That had confused him and his squad.
The first time he met Crossroads was the time he saved his aft. The main force had sent that delivery, and they were able to get in contact with the delivered amplifier.
Once he did the transaction, the young mech smiled before bidding them good luck. The squad burned the golden blue optics of the bot into all their processors from then on. It was said to be the one thing the mechling never changed.
After that, Wheeljack kept his audio receptors open for chatter of the neutral courier.
He heard some outlandish stories from both sides about the mech saving many bots and cons aft. They were a source of entertainment for many troops during the beginning.
That was till he disappeared.
The war was getting worse. Reality soon labeled the cons evil thanks to the experiments and killing neutrals.
Many thought he left the planet like the rest of the neutrals. Some thought he was offlined. Very few believed he joined the cons, but all they knew was he hadn't joined the bots. It was a mystery that no bot truly wanted to find out.
The open ending was a better one. It left troops to create a better end than the reality. None of them wanted to think of a mechling, one so young, being taken.
And just like all stories anyone hears, they soon faded into the past.
Shuttering his optics, Wheeljack took one more look at the mechling and Jack. He could see how they were similar. He could also see differences, but he wasn't sure how much of those differences were confirmed. War caused them all to hide certain parts of themself; the kid was no different.
Groaning, he reluctantly moved over to the monitors. Scanning over the Projector they installed, he was pleasantly surprised to see it running at full capacity. Turning, he gathered the last device they needed.
Most projectors didn't go far from the source. The source projector was a marvel in its ability to be almost a planet's distance from the frame.
Wheeljack thought the kid would need the distance. Despite being declared dead by the human government, the ability to go anywhere without glitching was helpful.
"Kid, here." He squatted down to offer the kid his present.
The projection robotically took the small black cuff. The color was reminiscent of the Source Projector. He watched Jack turn the device over multiple times. The confusion on his face was slightly amusing.
"What is it?" The question wasn't a surprise.
"Since you are a projection, you can't be far away from your frame. This is just an amplifier I made to help boost and stabilize your connection." He explained, proud of his work.
The boy's head snapped up at that. His eyes looked into Wheeljack's optics. Wheeljack felt himself intake at the color; they were no longer the same gray-blue as before. Now they were eyes that looked supremely similar in color to optics he never could forget. The hope that shined in them brought Wheeljack back to the present.
"Does this mean I will be able to go to town? My house?" He smirked at the eager question.
"Kid, you could go to the other side of the world as long as you have that on your wrist."
He watched as Jack snapped on the device, shivering as his projection flickered. The smile Wheeljack received made him remember the one he got long ago.
'Ah, that's how they're similar.' He realized. They had the same spark of life, which said they would survive no matter what.
Waving off the appreciation, he turned around at the doors opening. Ratchet came in grumbling with tools. He didn't even look at them as he organized his workspace.
"Guess that's my cue to leave. See you guys around, but I've got a con to hunt." He saw Ratchet wave while yelling a strict thanks. Turning from the Doc, he nodded his head to Jack.
The boy gave a small smile in return. He received the quiet "Thanks."
He left the next click shaking his helm, amused.
'You don't need to thank me; I owe you for saving my aft long ago.' He thought with a smirk as he strolled past the celebrating group by the ground bridge.
"Glad I got a chance to repay yah Crossroads." His words were swept away by the roar of the ground bridge.
Author Note-
Hey all, hope you're enjoying the story so far. Honestly never thought I would get near 50,000 words for one story. Always love reading comments and if you have any suggestions for where you want the story to go please feel free to comment.
Thanks for reading. Have a great day.
