Chapter 9 – Meeting

He'd only been in the driver's seat ten minutes, but Hax was ready to stand in front of Primus himself and declare that limbs were the most fascinating things in the universe. He could hold back the giggle as one hand slid down his arm, ending at its partner and pulling the middle finger back. Pain was a new concept – remembered but never experienced.

Though judging from the looks he was receiving, now was probably not the time for experimentation.

"How?" Ironhide uttered, not for the first time. "How is that…how?"

Hax shrugged, relishing the movement. "Don't know. Just am."

"Unfortunately, I can't add anything," Ratchet added, turning away from the simulations he'd been looking over. "Best guess, Deuce and Hax have temporarily swapped roles, I think Deuce is losing control."

"Deuce is still there," Rhinox added, nodding in union with Hax. "Just dormant. I don't think he knows how to function without access to most of his systems. How long this will last for though, I can't say."

"Where are Bumblebee and Jazz?" asked Ironhide.

"Either in the control room or on patrol. And do not inform them! The last thing we need is the two of them going into full panic mode."

Hax snickered at that, and decided to try standing. Ironhide shook his head, watching the youngling struggle to his feet, and chose to reply over internal comms.

'You have to move up the surgery.'

'We can't!' was the hissed reply. 'The odds of both surviving…'

'And yet, if we don't, we run the risk of losing both…'

"You know, I'm starting to understand why Deuce hates it when you do that."

All three were privy to Hax's very first glare, one foot tapping against the berth's surface.

"This is bad," Hax began. "I know this is bad – you'd have to be an idiot not to know this is bad, but can you stop whispering and tell me how bad?"

His irritation only grew when the three started talking over his head again, though admittedly without using the comms.

"Prime is visiting Secretary Keller right now. He insisted on being here when we started."

"That's what comm. links are for!" Ironhide snapped at the medic. "Besides, he'll be on his way back this afternoon – you can start tomorrow. One day isn't going to hurt…right?"

"Right. We think," Rhinox added. "But I think we are overlooking something."

Now the optics dropped, and Hax backed up. Unfortunately, he was still getting used to his own weight, and stumbled over his own feet.

"Woah!"

Ratchet lunged to catch him, only to miss by inches, and Hax crumbled back down on the berth.

"Ow," he groaned. "You guys make walking look so easy."

"Hax," Rhinox began, kneeling to face the youngling optic-to-optic. "In some ways this is a good thing. There is something we must discuss with you, and perhaps it's better face-to-face."

Optics shuttered in resignation. "Oh boy, let's hear it."

He heard movement to the side, and looked up to find Ratchet kneeing by Rhinox.

"Hax," Ratchet began. "Your spark has never had to survive on its own, and even in our best simulations, you have only 5% chance of stabilising."

The youngling just kept staring at them.

"But…that's just simulations right? It's not completely reliable."

"True," Rhinox grudgingly admitted. "There have been cases where sparks have defied the odds against them – there is a spiritual aspect to them that no medical textbook can properly explain."

"But," Ratchet warned, "as the medic performing the surgery, I have to say the odds are against you."

Hax dropped his gaze, clearly thinking it over.

"What…what are Deuce's chances?"

"A lot better," Ratchet replied. "Best estimate is 75%. He will most likely make it."

Hax nodded. "Then it's okay with me."

The two kneeling mechs were a little taken aback.

"Are you sure you don't want to think about it a little more?" Rhinox asked, and Hax shook his head.

"No. We all know we can't stay the way we have; it's not safe for either of us. So if this is our best shot, we should take it. Deuce will say the same."

Rhinox exhaled and stood. "I guess that's that then. I'll start preparing the clean room."

"We'll still have to wait for Optimus, but I'll get Maggie and Mikaela ready, and inform Bumblebee of the situation," Ratchet added, and glared at Hax.

"You. Stay here."

Hax grinned, and tried to stand up, only to collapse again and clutch his head.

"Ooh! Ow."

"Slag," Ironhide hissed, hands supporting the far smaller Cybertronian. "What now?"

But as quick as it had come, it vanished, and Hax's hands slipped away from his head, and looked up at them in confusion.

"How'd I get here?" Deuce asked.

The next day came too soon for most involved. Deuce was holed up in the medical bay, while Rhinox, Ratchet, Bumblebee and the girls put the finishing touches on the clean room that had been constructed. Meanwhile Jazz had been called to Optimus's office, the Peterbuilt having been informed of the situation. Sitting behind his desk, he kept his optics on his first lieutenant pacing around the room.

"Deuce is aware of the dangers?"

Jazz nodded. "He's not too happy about Hax's chances, but since Hax has given his approval he's not refusing it. They'll be starting in a couple of hours once you've given the go-ahead."

"Right. I'll make my way there soon."

That should have been the end of it, but Jazz noticed the tenseness in Optimus's frame, fighting with depression.

"Something happen with Keller?"

Optimus sighed, leaning forward and dropping his head in his hands. "I have some bad news. News that Deuce cannot, under any circumstances, learn."

Which narrowed the possible topics down to one. Jazz shook his head in disbelief.

"Please don't say Simmons. I will love you and love you forever if you don't say Simmons, boss."

Optimus stood, his chair squealing in protest. "Keller discovered he'd been released. Someone hacked into his files and changed his charges. By the time anyone realised the error, he was long gone."

The Pontiac's hands clenched into fists. "Who? Who in their right minds would do that? And how do we find him?"

"I don't know," Optimus growled. "Agent Simmons had many contacts. Any one of them might have the ability. And if he's underground, it'll be difficult to track him."

"Surely he's not crazy enough to come back for Deuce," Jazz said incredulously. "He must know he'd never pull if off twice."

"He sacrificed his career, his friends, his family and his freedom for the first attempt. He doesn't have anything left but his obsession – sanity is likely not a factor anymore."

"Should we tell Deuce?"

"No. We'll inform the others, but this is the last thing he needs right now. With any luck we can resolve this without him ever knowing."

The clean room that had been constructed wasn't so much a room as it was a box. It appeared to be constructed of glass, but it was a Cybertronian equivalent that was far stronger and much more suited to their purposes. Along one wall were the necessary monitors, along with two cylindrical containers, while the only other furniture was the medical table – smaller than usual, to accommodate the smaller patient. A patient that was already lying down, preparing while the others milled around him.

-Are you ready? –

Deuce sighed. –No. How come you're not more nervous? –

Hax laughed. –Oh I'm plenty nervous, but I think this is meant to happen. –

He was rewarded with a laugh. –So you're not worried about your chances? –

-If you're not strong enough to stand on your own, you're not strong enough to survive, – Hax replied, more serious than Deuce could remember him ever being. –Besides, I think someone else is pulling the strings here. –

-What do you?… -

"Okay, Deuce, we're ready."

Ratchet's voice brought him back, and he turned his head to see out the glass (look out of the glass). Outside, both Optimus and Jazz were watching. Optimus regarded the youngling with sympathy.

"Ratchet will put you in stasis, Deuce," Optimus explained. "Once the sparks have been split, they will be removed fully from your body and placed in the chambers to help stabilisation."

Deuce turned his head to look at the two cylinders. So that was what they were for.

"Once you've stabilised, your spark will be returned," Optimus continued. "But Hax will remain in the stasis chamber, should he stabilise, in order to build a body for him (while we build a body for him). Do you understand?"

Deuce nodded. "I'm ready."

Optimus nodded, and Deuce noticed Jazz giving him a sloppy salute before his view was blocked. Then, Bumblebee's hand was on his shoulder, and Ratchet's hand moving closer…

And out went the light.

With his patient safely in stasis, his team prepped and his commander watching, Ratchet opened the spark chamber and fingered his newest tool.

An energon sealer. In rare cases, most before the war, Sparks had been damaged after injuries too close to their spark chambers. The spark would destabilise, breaking up, fusing back together and breaking up again until it shattered into meaningless light. An energon sealer, if brought into play soon enough, the energon blade could attract spark energy, guiding it and pulling it back together, fusing the spark back together.

If the sealer could coax a spark together, it could force it apart. In theory.

Optics narrowing, he descended on the spark.

Deuce hadn't been sure what to expect from the operation. Pain…nervousness…an apathetic feeling of loss while separated from his body…all seemed possible. A full on medical stasis couldn't be performed with a spark op, so his former…experience seemed more likely.

However, he was fairly certain conscious hadn't been on that list. Conscious…and staring at a door.

A door in the middle of nothing. A door that was now opening by itself.

He didn't remember walking – belatedly realising he had somehow forged a body for this mind game, and stumbled inside. The door slammed shut behind him, and he stared in confusion.

He'd been inside Will's home enough times to recognise a human habitat. Judging from the bed, it served as sleeping quarters. A large metal shelf seemed to separate the room, and he walked around it, noticing the desks. The windows were glowing with the dull light of sunset, overlooking a well-kept garden.

He knew this room.

"Huh, should have guessed."

Deuce yelped at the voice behind him and swung round defensively…only to have his mouth drop at the mirror image in front of him.

"…Hax?"

The body-double shrugged. "I think so."

"What do you mean, 'you think so?' How are you doing this?"

Hax shook his head. "I'm not doing anything."

He pointed behind Deuce. "He is."

Slowly, the Ducati turned around, looking over at the chair by the desk that he was certain had been empty before.

He was sitting the wrong way in the chair, arms lying on the back supporting his head, a rather sheepish grin on his face.

"Guess you figured it out, huh?"

Hax matched the grin.

"Hello, Sam."

To be continued . . .