The vague, yellow lights were turned low enough to barely differentiate the consoles and stations from one another. The dull hum of the machinery a soft white noise that ebbed and flowed in the open space. Rain danced on the roof outside, adding another layer to the soft ambience. For the first time that day, the hangar was peaceful. Ratchet could almost forget about the terrible situation that the past few days had revealed.

Almost.

Reminders of the issue were situated opposite him. A boy lying still on a cot, and his mother sitting beside him. Jack was badly scraped up and bruised from his fall, the lacerations hastily stitched up by the military base medical staff. It pained the medic how fragile he looked, all wrapped up in gauze and the blankets. He was sleeping now, though he hadn't been fully lucid for hours, which worried the mech greatly.

June was resting her head against her hands, mumbling softly to herself. He hadn't envisioned her as much of a praying woman, but he supposed he was never much of a sentimental 'bot either before the war had started. He hadn't really put stock into much of the mysticism of the old legends or artifacts either until he'd witnessed their powers firsthand.

He knew she was asking for a miracle, one to remedy things in a way he could not. After all, she was not a fan of the plan he and Optimus had settled upon.

He wasn't too sure of it himself.

::There've certainly been times I've questioned your judgement, but this? Of all the brazen ideas? This may erase every scrap of hope left for him!:: The old 'bot was bewildered by the new proposition. ::In theory it can work, but there's no guarantee at all! It's never been tested or controlled in this way!::

::You are right to be wary, however I suspect further inaction would only allow matters to escalate.:: The Prime chose his words carefully. ::I too have reservations, yet I cannot abide by them any longer.::

::Optimus, we're talking about changing his nature. Who's to say whether or not he can survive such a thing?::

::He will.::

The conviction in those words stunned him. ::Then I'll try.::

They'd ended the call there, each side knowing what had to be done.

"Ratchet," the mech almost didn't notice the whisper. He shook away his intrusive thoughts and focused on the source of the sound.

"Can you please explain it to me one more time?" June looked up at him from where she sat, a tired desperation etched into her features.

The medic nodded, moving to one of the consoles as quietly as he could. "Optimus uncovered one of Shockwave's labs hidden on Cybertron," his servos moved deftly over the keyboards as he spoke. "We believe he used this one to help clone the Predacon." A screen displaying the genetic coding process flickered to life before him. "His notes of refining and stabilizing uncoded CNA were all there."

She eyed the projections warily, "but what does that have to do with saving Jack?"

He couldn't fault her for her misgivings. "Ms. Darby, I now have the full formula to synthesize Cybermatter," he stated patiently. "It can-"

"I know, I know," she sighed, obviously unhappy with the answer. The woman's fingers carded through her son's hair, detangling the strands. "Isn't there a way to save him-" she searched for the right words, "-as he is?"

A sinking weight settled in the mech's tanks. 'Carriers,' he inwardly winced. "Unfortunately, there is not. The radiation from his Spark is destroying him on a cellular level. No amount of transfusions or transplants can save him, and his body won't be strong enough to endure those surgeries or recover fully." He hated the way she shrunk at his words. "If there were anything else we could have done," he wasn't sure how to finish the statement. It had never been easy to tell a Sire or Carrier that their Sparkling might not survive. With humans it was even harder.

"So now the solution is to save the thing that caused this." She sniffed, tears free-falling down her face. "That's the part I don't understand. Why save something that's killing him? Why does that get the chance to live on?" Her voice broke, "I don't get it. It's like saving someone's cancer, or preserving a disease."

"Because it is as much Jack as the rest of him," Ratchet kept his voice low and steady. "Unlike human hearts, our Sparks encompass all of who we are." It felt strange to reduce the concept to such a level, but she needed comfort, not a lesson in Cybertronian biology. " If we save it, we save him."

She swallowed nervously, "okay."

He knew she didn't accept it. In a very tangible way, she was still losing her son. He would not fully be hers anymore.

Pity welled in his Spark, "June, I am so sorry." He wished it hadn't come to this. It was awful seeing two of the most steadfast people he'd met on this planet reduced to such lows. Neither of them deserved this.

No one deserved this.

"I know," she raised her head to look the medic in his optics.

He knelt down on one knee, keeping the eye contact. "By the Spark of Primus himself, I promise you we will take good care of him."

"I don't want to say goodbye." She gripped Jack's shoulder lightly, "he's all I've got." June wiped her face with her free hand. "I knew I'd have to some day, but not like this."

Ratchet didn't know how to respond. Bedside manners had never been his strong suit. In war, he had to be stoic and practical when dealing with emotional patients or their grieving squadrons. Sacrifices were common, death was normal. 'Not here though, not like this.'

"He's not going to die, June," he said as gently as he could.

"Part of him is."

"Only the outside."

She raised her face to him again. "You better be right." She gave him a strained smile.

He nodded. 'May the Allspark take me if I'm not.' "You need your rest too."

With that, she reluctantly headed into one of the hangar's attached rooms, shutting the door silently behind her.

Jack didn't want to be awake, he'd rather crawl back under the veil of sleep and be spared from the aches that permeated all of his joints. Yet he'd started to wake up, and despite his best efforts, he could not fall back asleep.

'Shit.' Everything hurt. He didn't dare move beyond opening his eyes, trying to recognize his surroundings.

'The hangar? How'd I get here?' Hadn't he just been out with Arcee? He couldn't see the two-wheeler anywhere among the machines. She hadn't just left him there, had she? No, that wasn't like her.

He tried to raise his head from the pillow, but a sharp pain in his neck stopped him. 'Nope, okay, no moving.' That was a bad sign. Just what had happened? Why did everything feel like it was on fire? Even breathing was uncomfortable, more so than it had been the past few weeks.

Familiar heavy footsteps sounded off to his right. "How are you feeling?" Ratchet's voice seemed louder than usual.

"Terrible," the youth grumbled. "How'd I get here?"

"Arcee called for a groundbridge when you fell."

'Oh.' That's right. He'd let go. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," the mech assured. "She's been helping around the base since she got back."

'Keeping herself busy,' Jack thought. He'd have to talk to her about it later, though he knew she was going to use her mom voice on-

'Mom.' Oh man, she was going to be angry with him. 'The one time I crash on a motorcycle and it's not even because of a Decepticon attack.' At least he'd had his helmet. "Does my mom know I'm here?"

"Yes, she's in there," the medic pointed towards one of the doors on the upper level of the hangar. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to you alone."

"Uh, sure?" He didn't like way the other had said that.

"Do you remember when we fired the Omega Lock?"

"I don't think I could ever forget something like that," he chuckled nervously.

"That same material that restored Cybertron, we can use it to help you."

"Wait," the boy adjusted himself on the cot, sitting up now despite the protests of his limbs. Vertigo made his head spin, but he tried his best to keep himself centered. He stared directly at the mech, who didn't immediately meet his gaze. "Didn't Optimus say that stuff destroyed organic life?"

"We theorize that-"

"Theorize? I'm human, that stuff sho-"

"Jack," the medic pleaded softly. "You have a Spark. You haven't been fully human for a while." He paused, his servos flexing as if he could physically pull the words out of the air. "We theorize your new biological matrix would synchronize with the purpose of the Cybermatter, and you'd survive."

The youth made no sound, too dumbfounded to speak.

'They're offering to make me a robot?' His mind sputtered.

"But it's your decision," the mech added. "If you choose to not undergo the process, I can't say I'd blame you."

"How long would I have without it?" He needed to hear all of his options, he couldn't just decide to not be human anymore. Surely there was some other option.

"Less than a month."

Jack felt like he'd been punched. "How soon could this, what, surgery? Process? How long would that take?"

Ratchet looked at the display panel on his arm, "all things considered, I could synthesize the Cybermatter in a few days now that I have the entire formula for it. As for how long it would take, well," he turned to the boy again. "An hour at most; I can't imagine the process would exceed anything longer than that when entire buildings can be erected in a matter of minutes."

"Are these really my only options?"

"They are," the mech vented.

'Oh my God.' What should he say? "Can I have some time to think about this?"

"Of course," the medic gave him a sympathetic half-smile, and left the part of the hangar the boy occupied.

Jack wanted to throw up. 'First I was dying, now I have a month to live unless I give up my humanity,' his mind felt electrified. The choice was obvious, if he wanted to live then he should do it. Yet that meant losing a huge piece of himself, a cornerstone of who he was. 'How did this become my life?'

As much as he and the others had joked about a scenario similar to this when the Autobots weren't present, he never thought he'd have to face it as a possible reality.

"If I was a 'bot, I'd be a Wrecker for sure," Miko'd once said with confidence. "What do you think you'd be?"

"I've always wanted to go flying," Raf'd mentioned as he typed. "Maybe a jet. What do they call them? Seekers?"

"Like 'Screamy?" The girl jibed, "don't you want to be a scout like Bumblebee?"

"It's not that, it's who else might also be on the road," the boy sheepishly shrugged. "Some of my brothers drive, and I'd prefer being as far away as possible."

"Road rage, gotcha." Jack'd snickered.

"So how 'bout you?" Miko'd rounded on him.

"Honestly? I have no idea."

He still didn't have a clue.

'I might be figuring it out soon enough though.' He didn't know how he felt about it. Changing was different for the Autobots, probably for the whole of Cybertron. But for him? 'Well, that doesn't matter much now, does it.' Warmth bloomed in his chest, and he took a deep breath.

"Let's do it," he whispered into the open air. "Ratchet," he called out, getting a hum in response. "I'll do it."

"Dude! You've been dying this entire time?!" Miko's voice exploded out of his laptop's speakers.

Jack'd been sent back to Jasper for his last few days, he and his mom spending some quality time together before his 'operation.' This way Ratchet had all the time and quiet he needed to focus. Besides, the boy didn't want to be stuck on the military base and annoy the medic or get in the way of the personnel there.

He and his mom had mostly been taking care of personal matters, trying to figure out how they'd move on. Neither was sure what was going to happen, but they'd manage. It was what they did best.

The day before he'd be going back, he finally gathered enough courage to call his friends and tell them what was going on.

"I'm sorry." He looked back and forth between the pair displayed on the video call. "It's been chaotic."

"You're lucky I can't stay mad at a dead man," she flopped back in her chair.

"So you're sure this'll work?" Raf raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, if it doesn't you're dead anyways," Miko uttered sarcastically.

Jack shrugged, "she's right."

Raf removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "I don't like this."

"Me neither."

"Trust me, I know," the youth agreed.

"But you're going to be fine, right? Just different?" The youngest of the trio spoke, "it's not like we'll never see you again, it'll probably just be weird for a while before we get used to it."

"I guess?"

"Oh man," Miko pointed at the screen. "If you're big enough to give rides, I call dibs on the first one."

"Miko!" Raf was agape.

Jack laughed, "oh my God, Miko."

"What? It's the least you can do for dumping the fact that you're dying and going into a sci-fi surgery on us at the last minute!" She crossed her arms.

"Yeah, that's fair."

"So then," the bespectacled boy began. "Can I get a ride too?"

Jack laughed again, harder this time. It was nice to talk to them, why had he been so afraid to do it?

The rest of the call was more mundane, the others just filling him in on the minutiae of their lives, school, or anything else they could think of. It was relaxing to not feel like he was under a microscope or being picked at, just trading banter back and forth. Miko had a new kitten who was determined to destroy her paintbrushes. Raf was certain one of his professors actually ran some of the conspiracy theory websites they'd gone and scrubbed through a few years back.

He'd barely noticed how much time had passed before his mom was knocking at his door.

"Ah, yeah, curfew." Jack snickered. "I gotta get sleep."

"Oh, well, goodnight and good luck!" Raf waved and signed off.

"Hey," Miko said softly. "You remember what I told you that night you tried to quit Team Prime?"

Jack looked the screen, "yeah, I think about it a lot."

"Me too," she replied evenly. "I still stand by it." She smiled at the camera, "next time I see you, you better be picking me up for a joyride."

He chuckled, "alright, it's a deal. Thanks, Miko, goodnight."

"G'night bro," she flashed him a peace sign and left the call.

For a moment, Jack saw his own face reflected on the screen of his laptop. It was strange to think that this might not be looking back at him the next time he saw his reflection. He set it aside, glancing around his room. 'I might never come back here again.'

He wasn't sure whether it was stranger that the thought had come to him at all, or that he wasn't scared by it anymore.

Miko's old words echoed in the back of his head as he drifted off to sleep.

He could not count how many times he'd pulled someone back from the brink of oblivion. During each attempt there was still a thrill of fear in the back of his processor, but he'd steady his hands and operate to the best of his ability. He'd weld, cut, repair, and replace what he could, all in the hope that it'd work.

This time was different, he'd be a bystander.

Ratchet looked at the large, silvery tank of Cybermatter before him, its glistening surface shifting and rippling in hypnotic patterns. He'd ended up making much more than he needed, but he supposed anything unused could be utilized elsewhere once this was over. After all, this tank was connected to another empty container. Once his readings indicated that the Cyberforming process was complete, he'd drain the contents from one side into the other.

It was simple.

It was frightening.

It was all they had.

'Push him in and hope for the best,' he'd known the plan was stupid. Yet he'd run the calculations, synthesized everything according to the formula, and rechecked everything hundreds of times. His part was complete, it was now up to fate. 'He's going to be fine,' he kept trying to convince himself. 'If Optimus and his uncanny intuition are convinced, then surely there shouldn't be anything to worry about.' Common sense and his experience argued otherwise, but he couldn't afford to indulge his doubt anymore.

They were doing this.

'Primus, please let this work.'

The mech paced around the hangar, anxiously awaiting Jack's arrival. When the boy did arrive, it was unceremonious and awkward. He looked at the tanks nervously, "do I just jump in?"

"Hold on," the medic knelt and connected his sensors to the signals Jack's Spark was emitting. "There, now you can."

"Wait, seriously? That's it?"

"Yup."

"That's really all there is to it?"

"I don't care for it either," he admitted. "Yet that is how the process works."

"Oh."

The 'bot almost chuckled at the bemused expression on the boy's face as he made his way to the platform. As he stood looking into the pool, he nervously flicked his eyes back up at the mech.

Jack dove in.

He couldn't see him in the tank, so Ratchet turned his head towards the monitors. 'He'll be okay. He's been through worse. He's held the Matrix. He can get through this.' He kept the chant going in his processor, slowly convincing himself of its validity.

Jack hadn't expected to feel much of anything at all, but staring into the pool made him freeze. His instincts wanted him to stay rooted to that spot on the edge, away from the shining substance, but he had to force himself to ignore it.

This was a last-ditch effort. He had to try.

'If this doesn't work, I'm dead anyways,' he mentally paraphrased Miko's statement from last night. He then recalled her other words, ones that helped prompt him into action on more than one occasion.

"You were born to do so much more."

He'd spared a glance at Ratchet, then steeled his nerves. 'Time to see if she was right.'

He jumped in.

For a second, it felt like he was stuck in freefall.

It didn't feel like water.

It was warm, comforting, an odd familiarity to it.

A strange mix of contradictory sensations hit him simultaneously: the lack of air in his lungs but feeling like he could still breathe, a numbness that electrified his nerves, his limbs feeling both compressed and pulled, and Something That Was Not Him encroaching on his consciousness.

He should have been panicking.

That felt like too much effort.

It didn't hurt.

He felt parts of himself drift away, the last bits of his attention fading.

He was vaguely was aware of voices.

Maybe he was dying after all.

It felt nice.

Warm.

Like a hug.

"So how long has he been in there?" Arcee eyed the tanks suspiciously as she strode into the hangar.

"Over five hours," Ratchet didn't look away from the monitors, his servos flexing and curling unconsciously. He was antsy, ready for this to be over. "All the readings suggest he's fine."

The femme hummed thoughtfully as she approached his side, "any ideas as to how he'll be afterwards?"

He finally tore his gaze away from the computer terminal. "A Minicon, most likely," he replied with a slight shrug. "Although I'm less certain now that so much time has passed."

She crossed her arms with a coy smile, "really? Jack. A Minicon." A sharp laugh escaped her, "we are talking about the same kid, right?"

He rolled his optics, "I'm being realistic. It's of the same relative size-"

She raised an optic ridge skeptically. "Remember the last time we had this conversation?"

"We were speaking in hypotheticals," he huffed.

"I still agree with Ultra Magnus," she teased.

Ratchet shook his helm, "we shall see."

A beeping from the monitor ripped his attention away from the burgeoning argument. 'It's over.' He quickly initiated the draining process, then walked up to the platform to look inside the emptied tank.

"By the Allspark."

He'd been expecting a Minicon, not a full-size Mech.