An hour later found Will in the infirmary – again – and waiting restlessly for Ratchet to finish his check-up. A week ago, patience wouldn't have been a problem, but Seeker instincts didn't do sitting still, and human mind and Seeker programming had yet to reach a compromise on that issue... or more others, for that matter.
Like food. He was a Cybertronian and every bit of programming told him that the Energon he had been given might not be high-grade but was still good. The human part of him had just sighed and wished for a pizza. His new body and his old mind didn't get along on a lot of issues, and Will really didn't look forward to getting used to it all.
Issues like Ironhide, although it wasn't just the Seeker part attracted to him now, but that thought was interrupted as Ratchet reappeared and honed in on the restless Seeker with a precision that would have made Starscream envious – and he was really not comfortable with the admiration his new programming seemed to have for the Decepticon Second in Command, and he desperately hoped that ignoring it would make it go away before it got any worse.
"You've got the human crews in awe of you," the medic snorted. "And Prime stuck between reprimanding you for that stunt you pulled or acknowledging that you technically kept the word of the agreement and showed a remarkable level of skills in the process."
Will looked down for a moment, watched his new bird-like feet and legs, and then looked up again and shrugged and settled for plain honesty. "I have no excuse. I took a look at the sky, and next thing I'm off and it's... like nothing else. Nothing. We all think that Starscream and the rest of his trine have issues, but I don't. Not anymore. It's in their programming. You're up there, and it's like a drug. You're a god. Unchallenged and undefeated." A pause, and when he continued, it was a lot quieter, forcing out words his Seeker programming struggled desperately against. "I can't fight it, Ratchet. I'll do it again given the chance. If you want to keep me ground-bound, you have to lock me up, and you have to do it soon, or I'll be fighting it every step of the way. I'll go quietly now if you want me to, but I can't promise tomorrow, or the day after that."
Ratchet watched him for a long moment, and Seeker programming twisted as it realised the medic might just seriously be considering the suggestion, and his voice gave nothing away as he finally answered. "You're a Seeker."
Seekers are meant for the sky, Seekers are claustrophobic, Seekers can go mad if they're grounded, hung unspoken in the air, because Ratchet had experience with Seekers and some things were just well-known about them.
"I know," Will said quietly, to both the spoken and the unspoken remarks. "I'm also William Lennox, and I'm supposed to be stronger than this. Give the order and I'll go. You're still my superior officer."
Lock up, toss away the key because his Prime and the ground-pounders were too scared of what a Seeker could do, and programming struggled in his mind even as he forced it aside, and still Ratchet watched, and maybe it was a test, but he had too much to think about already and he couldn't deal with anything else.
A gentle hand against his face plates, causing heating fans to almost switch on again, and Will looked up, unaware that he had even looked away to begin with.
"I would not lock up a Seeker," Ratchet said quietly. "I already recommended to Prime that we let you fly. Your offer is noted but will not be accepted."
Relief, gratitude, dread, because there would be nothing to hold back the Seeker anymore, and Will finally spoke the words that had lingered in the back of his mind since he had woken up.
"I'm scared."
Silence, and Will continued as he looked down again. "I'm scared slagless. I can feel it take over and there's nothing I can do. I can see what I'm doing, I can tell myself I shouldn't do it, but I can't do anything to stop it. Three days, Ratchet. You saw what happened today. There's going to be nothing left of me when this is done. Just a Seeker... and a future Decepticon whenever it gets around to defecting, because I'm starting to understand why Megatron has all the Seekers and it scares the slag out of me, too."
Strong fingers gripped his chin and Will looked up, startled. "That won't happen." Fierce, determined, and he wanted so badly to believe it as Ratchet continued. "Seekers have strong programming but they still have personalities, just like the rest of us. Starscream, Thundercracker, Skywarp... they all have their own personalities. Unpleasant ones, perhaps, but personalities nonetheless. You will still be William Lennox. You simply need to learn to merge the programming with the person you were."
"You sound sure about that," Will said quietly. "Got any case studies to back that up?"
"No, but I trust that Primus wouldn't send you back just to let you watch yourself become nothingness in the face of Seeker programming," Ratchet said firmly. "Fight, Lennox. You didn't back down to Blackout, or even your own government when you felt they were in the wrong. Don't tell me you're going to let one little bit of coding break you."
"It's not that easy," Will said, but even then he still felt a bit better. He trusted their medic, trusted that he knew what he was talking about, and even if the fight looked hopeless, he was still going to try. He could do that much, at least.
"I know."
Will got the impression that Ratchet really did know, and then the medic let go of him and straightened, looking distinctly amused.
"You suffered no injuries from your little stunt. If anything, I'd say you're in better shape now than you were yesterday. Your body is adapting to itself."
Which was... good. Probably. Will wasn't sure, because if there was nothing physical that needed fixed, he would have entirely too much time to consider his various mental issues instead, and Ironhide ranked pretty high on that list.
"Asking for help is not a weakness, Will. You don't have to fight alone," Ratchet pointed out, and Will snorted.
"I know." And slag it all, he might as well go with honesty for that, too, and the words were biting as he continued. "What do you want me to say? That I apparently had the mech equivalent of a really good long-distance make-out session fifty-six miles above Diego Garcia? That I have vivid fantasies of making Ironhide prove his strength to me? Of my body pinned under Prime's stronger built, and your hands systematically seeking out every sensor node on my wings? Because I do. Every slagging time I let my thoughts drift around you, every slagging time I lose focus, that's what I see, and I know I'm a Seeker now, but I'm also still human somewhere in the back of my mind, and that part of me is not comfortable fantasising about giant robots." A pause, and if he had been human, he would have taken a deep breath. "This is my fight, Ratchet. I wouldn't undo this if I could, because I can do a lot of good like this if I can make it work, but I'm not going to pretend it's all fine, either. I can cope with this part of it, but it's my fight, not anyone else's."
"I understand your reasoning, but the offer stands," Ratchet said, and there was a flicker of bemusement across his features. "Why me, though? I'm flattered, don't get me wrong, but while I understand your programming deciding on Ironhide and Prime... why me? I'm a medic. Seekers look for fighters."
Seeker programming murmured in the back of his mind, the answer instantly there without even trying, and Will passed it on, because he owned Ratchet that much, at least.
"You're a front-line medic," he said. "Skilled. Not afraid of war. Seekers go after fighters because they're strong and skilled. So are you, in a different way."
Ratchet nodded thoughtfully, and Will stared at his hands again, metal fingers moving absently.
Fight.
Seeker programming fighting against what remained of his human mind and personality, and the body didn't help at all on it – purely Cybertronian, right down to the Autobot insignias on his wings, and maybe that was part of the problem, too. There was nothing physically human left. Nothing he could hold on to.
Fight, Lennox.
Ironhide had a scar, Starscream had Cybertronian glyphs written on him in some mech equivalent of tattoos, and there was a hazy idea somewhere in his mind, and he struggled to grasp it as he looked at Ratchet again.
"How did Starscream get his markings?" he asked.
And the idea took shape.
---------------------------
When Ironhide saw his human-turned-Seeker partner again, it took his processors a moment to pick up on the fact that something was different. Well, more different than the fact that they had a Seeker in their midst now, and Ironhide paused as his optics really took in what he saw.
"NEST," he said, and it was a statement more than a question.
The familiar NEST insignia added underneath the Autobot insignia on either wing, and Ironhide knew real etchings when he saw them. For a moment he wasn't sure how to react – Will Lennox was an Autobot now, and while Ironhide had carried the NEST insignia as well on occasion, it had always been a temporary addition and never a permanent brand like the one Will now wore – and then he decided to handle it like he handled everything else: the straight-forward way.
"Must've hurt like slag," he commented.
Will shrugged, and experience told Ironhide that his wings were probably still sore, although he didn't let it show. "It did."
A pause. "Why?"
Will gave him a defiant look. "Because I'm not going down without a fight, Ironhide. I might be turning schizophrenic, I might be losing my mind, I might be losing myself, but I'm not going to just let it happen. I'm going to fight, 'Hide. Kicking and snarling every step of the way. I was human before Primus decided to mess around with things. I'm not going to forget that without a fight."
Maybe he expected an argument, but if he did, he was in for a disappointment as Ironhide settled for a shrug. "That explains why you took so long with Ratchet." He had almost used the tentative bond to contact their wayward Seeker, but hadn't. He was aware to some degree that there were two personalities in there and that Lennox-the-human needed time. The Seeker had been the one to make advances during the fight, but the one he was dealing with right now was obviously the human, and furthermore, the human was just as obviously struggling. It wasn't something Ironhide had considered until then, but it made several pieces fall into place to complete an image he did not want to see.
There was a distinct difference between the way the Seeker moved and the way Will carried himself, but there were signs that the difference was becoming less pronounced, and most of it was Seeker-behaviour taking over. Part of the flight had been Lennox, even if the Seeker had been dominant, but a lot of what Ironhide saw now was very much Seeker behaviour. The voice was human, the word choice and personality was human, but the Seeker was lurking just beneath the surface.
Ironhide wasn't one to linger on what he couldn't change, and he was realistic enough to appreciate a new Cybertronian fighter in place of a human – even if said human had been a close friend – but he still found himself hoping rather strongly that the human personality would remain, and not just for the former human's sake, either. To see a good friend brought back had been a miracle from Primus, but the more he learned, the less miraculous it looked for the human mind stuck in a Seeker body as programming took over.
Like getting reprogrammed, Ironhide realised as the new etchings began to make an uncomfortable amount of sense. Losing yourself one bit of coding at a time.
The wings were interesting in ways that he hoped he would get the chance to explore in detail at a later time and the opportunity to train against a Seeker wasn't one he would pass up if offered, but not if the price of it was watching a brother in arms fall to pieces until nothing remained but another Seeker like Starscream's trine. Not if it was knowing that said brother in arms was aware of it, too, and fighting a losing battle against it every step of the way.
Decision made, Ironhide reached out and grasped the Seeker's arm in a firm grip, and still-unfamiliar features looked startled for a moment before determination took over and Will returned the gesture, fingers gripping hard as they found at least a bit of an anchor in the storm.
Neither said anything, and they didn't need to, and when they finally let go again, Ironhide gestured at the hangar behind him. "Prime's looking for you."
Will hesitated for a moment, and then he nodded and followed Ironhide towards the familiar office.
---------------------------
The Seeker programming was mercifully dormant as Will stepped inside the office, only a slight purr in the back of his mind in reaction to their Prime. The flight and the etchings seemed to have kept the programming low-key for the time being, at least, and maybe he could actually get some work done with a clear head.
He would have stood at ease, but his new build wasn't really made for that sort of thing, and instead he merely let his hands rest at his side and waited silently for the verdict.
The silence stretched for long minutes, and Will was acutely aware of Ironhide standing unmoving behind him, a silent protector to their Prime, and Seeker programming slowly began to stir again. It would take so little for the mech to reach out and touch his wings, so many sensors nodes within reach, such wide expanses of smooth, flawless, sensitive wings, and Will forced the thought aside before it could go any further.
"What am I going to do with you?" Optimus Prime finally said and broke the increasingly uncomfortable silence. "You technically did not break our agreement, but Ratchet let me understand that I will need to learn to command a Seeker properly if I wish to avoid unfortunate loopholes in my orders in the future."
If Will had been human, he would have taken a deep breath. As it was, he stood a bit straighter instead, because whatever happened, he was not going to back down to his new programming. Not while he could still fight. "The nice option or the practical one, sir?"
It might have been surprise in their Prime's features, but it was gone again an instant later. "Would you like to tell me the difference between them?"
Will shrugged. "Nice option – I stick around, get used to being a Seeker, fight it for as long as I can. Might even succeed in getting control of it eventually, but as it looks now, I wouldn't bet on that." A pause, and when he looked at their Prime again, there was a silent dare in his eyes. "Practical option? You accept the fact that my Seeker programming is probably going to take over eventually and you'll be stuck with a rogue Seeker likely to go 'Con, and you use the time until then to send me on missions. If we're lucky, I'll get myself offlined, and treason won't even be an option."
Silence. Silence and a pause as Optimus Prime really watched him and saw past the wings for possibly the first time since Will had woken up in the infirmary, and he resisted the urge to sigh.
"You're a leader, Prime," Will said instead. "Don't try to tell me you've managed to hold your own against the 'Cons for this long without getting familiar with the dirtier side of war. I've heard the term 'Special Ops' thrown around here once or twice, and I'm going to guess that it's not that different from the human version most times. We might not be anywhere near as technologically advanced a species as you are, but we know dirty warfare. We've done pretty much nothing else through the entire human history."
Still silence, and slag it all, it still felt wrong to be close to eye-level with their Prime, and then the mech nodded slowly. "We have had... some. It does demand a certain type of mech." A pause, quieter. "Jazz was one."
Jazz. Will could see that, somehow – good with infiltration, much better at adapting to cultures than the rest of the Autobots from what little Will knew about the mech he had only ever seen briefly before Megatron had torn him apart. He would have been a good Special Ops agent, and Will found himself nodding in turn. A damn good agent, even, and even if it was all Will would ever know about those Special Ops missions the Autobots had been behind, it was enough to tell that Optimus Prime did know his way around the nastier aspects of war and that he accepted their necessity, too. Out of the original five Autobots, Jazz had been their Prime's Second in Command. No leader who refused to acknowledge those shadow agents would have done something like that.
"I do not, however, believe you offer this for the right reasons," their Prime continued, and Will froze almost imperceptibly. "Ratchet briefed me on your suggestion to him. I do not intend to let you throw your life away on a whim."
Will hesitated, but their Prime's look was unyielding and finally he nodded tiredly. "Just... stop me before I hurt anyone. I wouldn't be this slagging worried if I thought I could control it."
"I know." Optimus Prime looked sympathetic for a moment, and then he nodded as well, all business again. "You will need an Earth-based alt-mode before we can allow you outside of Diego Garcia's airspace. When you have narrowed down a selection, I will contact our liaison, and we-"
"F-22," Will interrupted. "Sir. I want an F-22."
A long pause as Optimus Prime watched him. "Like Starscream and his trine."
Will could imagine Ironhide's frown behind him, but he didn't back down as he held their Prime's gaze. "Yes. I looked at the specs when I had too much time to go stir crazy. The 'Con Seekers would have picked the best they could find. I agree with their choice. With the insignias and the NEST etchings, you shouldn't have a problem telling me apart from them in battle, and I can get a different paint job, too, if you want. I don't need to hide the same way they do."
Another long pause, enough to make Will wonder if their Prime was starting to reconsider the offer he had made at first, and then the mech finally nodded. "I concur."
He did?
Will's surprise must have shown, because Optimus looked faintly amused for a moment. "I will make arrangements with our liaison today. It should arrive tomorrow, then. The sooner you become used to your abilities, the sooner, perhaps, you will learn to control your Seeker programming to your satisfaction, too."
Or lose my mind completely, but Will didn't say that. It was their Prime, and he would trust him, because he didn't have a choice. Him and Ratchet, and if he ended up going mad, at least he had done everything he could to warn them.
"I will notify you when your alt-mode is available."
A polite dismissal, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Will straightened. "Yes, sir."
And with that, he followed Ironhide out of the room.
---------------------------
Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't have time to realise that Ironhide was leading him behind a hangar in the lesser-used parts of their base until a strong hand grabbed him and he found himself pinned, back against the hangar wall as Ironhide's optics narrowed on him. The hold wasn't enough to keep him if he wanted to get loose, but enough to make the point, and he made a sharp sound as he barely managed to keep suddenly-active heating fans under control.
"Do you have a death wish, Lennox?" he growled, and Will glared back but didn't move.
"I just believe in back-up plans, Ironhide. Things aren't magically going to fix themselves just because I ignore them. If I plan ahead, maybe it'll never get to a point where I have to use those plans."
"I'd say," Ironhide said in a low voice, "that your ideas go a little past 'back-up plans', Lennox. You all but told Prime to send you on a suicide mission."
A silent stand-off as both glared and then Will looked away. "I told you, 'Hide. I'm losing myself and it scares the slag out of me. I don't want to turn 'Con. I don't want to snap someday and target you or Sam or the teams because that Seeker programming turned out to be nastier than we thought. I know I've got blue optics and Autobot insignias, but you know what? Frenzy had blue optics, too."
His optics darkened for a moment as they still focused on everything but Ironhide, and the tension in his body drained under the mech's hands as Will yielded in their silent fight for dominance. "Optimus would take the shot but we both know he'd wait too long. Your cannons could probably take down Megatron. A Seeker wouldn't be a problem. It's just a matter of getting a target lock."
He paused, and finally looked up and found Ironhide watching him, silent and serious, and he continued quietly, desperately. "I don't want to turn 'Con. Don't let me, 'Hide. Please."
The grip lessened slightly, and when Ironhide spoke, there was no doubt or hesitation in his voice. "I won't. You have my word, Will. Whatever it takes."
Even if it means pulling the trigger, he didn't say, but Will heard it, anyway, and nodded in silent thanks. He had needed to hear it, needed the knowledge that it would be one less worry to shoulder, and maybe he would have a little more focus to put into making sure it wouldn't come to that, now.
The grip had lessened but Ironhide still hadn't let go, and there was a peculiar glow in his eyes as he continued. "How much of you was up there?"
Up there? Will thought, and then it clicked a moment later. ...Oh.
If he had been human, he would have taken a deep breath at that, but he kept Ironhide's gaze, almost defiant. He'd gone with honesty for the rest of it. He might as well continue that trend, because there would be no guarantee he would have the chance to do it over if he fragged up. "Some. It wasn't all the Seeker." He paused, and then he let go of his grip on the fans and let Ironhide pick up on the meaning himself. "I didn't have to fight that in Prime's office, or with Ratchet. I'm mostly me right now, and that means at least part of that reaction is mine as well. Am I comfortable with that? I'm not sure. A good part of me still sees me as a married human, and you as a big, alien mech, and that part gets stuck wondering how it would even work."
Ironhide nodded and seemed to consider that before he spoke. "If we strengthened our bond," he said carefully, "would it strengthen your connection to our side as well?"
Will blinked. That was... actually a good question. Would a Seeker be willing to leave a bond-mate, whatever the nature of that bond? Would any Cybertronian?
"I don't know," he finally said. "It might just help the Seeker programming take over that much faster, too. Ratchet – Ratchet might know."
One of the best medics since the war had broken out, and definitely the best surviving one, and if anyone knew, it had to be him.
He's got experience with Seekers, too.
"We should talk with him," Ironhide said and let go of Will, and it wasn't just Seeker programming that objected a little to the sudden loss of contact.
"We should," Will agreed.
He wasn't going to hope, but he wasn't going to argue with Ironhide, either, and with a small, tired sound, he followed the mech back towards the infirmary.
---------------------------
Ratchet wasn't sure what he had expected when Ironhide had entered his infirmary, followed by their new Seeker looking distinctively tired, but the suggestion that followed had definitely not been it. Ratchet had dismissed his immediate response – are you out of your slagging processors? – and had watched both of them carefully for a moment before he had dismissed Ironhide firmly.
"Last time I saw you, Lennox, you were willing to fight," he told the Seeker quietly once they were alone. "That was half an hour ago."
The soldier made what passed for a shrug in his new body. "I had a nice plan. Prime turned it down."
"You had a suicidal plan," Ratchet corrected, and more worrying than anything, perhaps, was the fact that the former human did not deny it.
"I had a nice plan," Lennox repeated and didn't back down. "Half an hour, Ratchet. That was all it took for it to start to take over again. It was dormant when you did the etchings, but as soon as I was out of the door, it picked back up. I can't do this. I'm going to lose, and there'll be nothing I can do to stop it. That way, at least I'd be able to do some good, and maybe 'Hide wouldn't have to pull the trigger on me when I turned 'Con."
"Not all Seeker are 'Cons," Ratchet said, and repeated what he had told the former human several times already in as many days. "Primus would not have-"
"I have fantasies about Starscream," Will interrupted, very quietly. "Starscream. Maybe Primus wouldn't have sent me back as an Autobot if I would turn 'Con, anyway, but maybe something went wrong. Maybe a human isn't strong enough to fight back. Maybe my Seeker programming is just fragged. Could be plenty of reasons, and I don't really care either way. I have fantasies about Starscream. I'm a Seeker, Ratchet. I'll be used in combat. What's going to happen the first time I end up fighting Starscream or Thundercracker or Skywarp? I've flown twice now and the Seeker took over both times. What's going to happen when I meet those Seekers in mid-air?"
Silence, because for once Ratchet really wasn't sure, and he suspected it was a question neither of them really wanted to know the answer to. Instead he took the chance to watch their new Seeker again and he wasn't encouraged by his conclusions.
Worse than I thought, then.
"How distinct is that Seeker programming?" he finally asked as a vague idea began to take shape. There was no guarantee it would work, of course, but unless he did something, they would lose either Will or the Seeker or both. It was really only a matter of which part had the final say in the argument.
The whisper of plates sliding together as Will shuddered at the question. "Distinct. I can feel it take over. It's a personality of its own. Schizophrenia. I wasn't lying, Ratchet. I can do a lot of good like this. Give me the chance and I can cause some real damage to the 'Cons before they take me down. At the rate this is going, it'd be the kindest thing to do. It'd be fast, at least."
Ratchet nodded slowly and made his decision. "Let me speak to it."
Sudden tension in the body before him, every last bit of body language telling Ratchet the answer before Will could even speak. "No. No. It'll take over soon enough. I'm me now. Let me keep that."
While the medic understood Will's refusal, it also couldn't be helped. He had an idea, but he didn't want to warn the Seeker, and he watched the former human for a moment. Two ways to handle it. Ratchet settled for the kinder one.
"Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?"
Blue optics watched him for a long moment, something very human in the features as the soldier seemed to consider it, and then he made a soft sound. "No."
Ratchet knew surrender when he heard it. "Then trust me in this, too."
Another long moment, and then William Lennox nodded slowly, and Ratchet could see the changes as the Seeker took over – expression changing slightly, body shifting, head held higher, and the familiar sound of heating fans broke the otherwise silent room.
I like you, Ratchet mentally translated the sound. You interest me. We should explore this further.
He reached out carefully, watched the Seeker's optics follow his hand and the mech lean into his touch as he rested his hand against the sensitive wires on his throat, and an instant later he struck, fingers digging into vulnerable seams and taking a hard grip on the Energon-line there.
The screech was almost deafening but Ratchet had expected it and already prepared his audio receivers for it, and the Seeker was on the floor a second later, wings trembling as it stayed very, very still to keep Ratchet from damaging it.
The medic watched for a moment to ensure it had gotten the point, and then he went down on one knee, still keeping that grip on wires and lines.
"Now that I have your attention, Seeker, listen to me very carefully," he said, his voice quiet and unrelenting. "You have a human personality in there as well. I don't know why Primus brought him back as a Seeker, but I do have experience with your breed. Most of you, if not all, are Decepticons by nature to some degree, blue optics and Autobot insignia or not. You all have that seed of arrogance and brutality in you, however deep down it might be. The human in you is fighting hard not to be crushed by you, as I'm sure you know. That means I have two patients in you, and right now I favour the human, Seeker. A soldier is worthless if it's a constant battle to make him take orders. I will fight for that human personality you carry. I will destroy every bit of programming you have, if that's what it takes. He is trying to adapt to you. If you ever wish to fly again, you will do the same." Fingers tightened fractionally and the body beneath them trembled in soundless pain. "Have I made myself clear, you winged piece of scrap metal?"
Bright, panicked optics looked at him – first time, probably, that anyone had been anything but impressed or fascinated by the Seeker – and Ratchet knew the jet understood the point even before it nodded.
"Yes," it rasped, and Primus, there was nothing human in that voice. "Yes, medic. I obey."
Ratchet kept his grip for a moment longer and then he slowly let go. "Go into recharge. And Primus help you if we need to repeat this."
The Seeker watched him with wary optics as it climbed onto a berth, nursing its wounded throat, and Ratchet waited until it was completely gone in recharge.
Then he went to find Ironhide.
---------------------------
"I'm not going to ask you what the slag you thought you were thinking," Ratchet said flatly as he found the weapon specialist lingering outside of the infirmary, "because I strongly suspect you weren't." Ironhide frowned, but Ratchet continued before he could object. "It's not entirely your fault. I am going to make some educated guesses, and you are going to tell me if I got it correct."
Ironhide nodded at that, a bit wary, and Ratchet watched him carefully.
"You have a bond. Not a complete one yet, but the tentative beginnings of one that could evolve into the full connection of a mated bond, or a sibling bond, or one of close comrades in arms. You initialised it when he was human as a way of keeping an optic on him and likely were not even aware of it. Now the Seeker completed that bond."
A stiff nod confirmed as much.
"As I suspected. That half-formed bond is now a constant source of attention to your processors. Like a line that has been put slightly out of place or a dent in an uncomfortable but not painful spot. This," Ratchet continued firmly as Ironhide looked ready to object, "is not entirely your fault. The Seeker saw a chance to claim a mate. A good part of the frustration you feel about the tentative bond not being stronger is that Seeker influencing you." A pause. "This should not be a problem in the future, if the winged pest knows what's good for it."
Ironhide looked a bit uncertain at that. "Lennox?"
"The Seeker," Ratchet corrected. "And make no mistake, Ironhide. They're distinctive personalities. More so than I originally assumed based on his answers. It's not a matter of getting used to programming. It's a matter of learning to deal with an entirely separate personality taking up residence in your processors. The Seeker, to the best of my knowledge, is a new spark and eager to explore this world and thus all the stronger for it. In time, it will settle down and be driven by more than just core programming."
Silence. Ironhide, Ratchet knew, was familiar with physical damage but processor-related issues were far outside his area of experience.
"I had a talk with that Seeker. It should be more cooperative in the future, which in turn will allow the human part to regain control to a degree where it is the dominant one again." A tired sound. "What went wrong? I don't know. I would say that Primus would never have sent him back as a Seeker if Will could not control it, but there is the very real possibility that Primus judged him on Cybertronian merits and simply did not consider that the human soul, however strong, would not ordinarily be a match against a spark and actual programming. Or perhaps Primus knew it all along, and judged Will as a soldier rather than a human, and reasonably assumed that if Will was going to die no matter what, he would not object to being brought back to even our odds, even if it meant that the Seeker would take over before long. For now, I have evened the battle ground for him but in the long run, him and that Seeker will have to merge to be able to function as they should."
Still silence as Ironhide seemed to consider this, and when he finally spoke, his response was slow and thoughtful.
"What can we do?"
"Focus on the human," Ratchet said, because he had already considered that part of it, too. "Do not bond with them, do not even interface, if it's not specifically what Will wants. If we simply wanted to bind the Seeker to our side, we could let it bond with Optimus Prime, and probably lose Will in the process as I doubt the human side would be very accepting of a bond made against its wishes. If he gives consent – him, not the Seeker – then it would probably serve to help merge the two sides to some degree, but you had better be very, very certain the human side consented, too."
Ironhide frowned, and Ratchet snorted. "Don't think I didn't know what you two were up to during that test flight. You needed to hear that part of it. Focus on the human, Ironhide. Most of the rest of this place is too preoccupied with the fact that we have a Seeker now to consider the human part at all." A pause. "I ordered the Seeker into recharge. Be there for him when he wakes up, Ironhide. He needs it."
The dark mech nodded. "All right."
And perhaps, Ratchet realised, things were starting to go the right way again.
---------------------------
Wariness greeted William Lennox somewhere in whatever place mechs went when they recharged. Wariness, annoyance, curiosity, and spark-deep fear lingering on the edge of it all, and the pieces clicked into place as it was followed by fleeting images of Ratchet in all his ruthless, unyielding glory.
Got your aft handed to you, huh? he drawled silently.
Sulking, but no attempt to stop Will's comments, and that was a start, at least.
So? he continued, letting the Seeker pick up on the meaning from the rest of his thoughts, and the question was followed by hesitation, and then faint bewilderment.
You have no wings, the Seeker asked in bemusement. I fly. Humans don't.
It was honest confusion, too, and Will got the sudden impression that the Seeker's spark or programming or whatever the hell made up the personality of a mech was very, very young.
We're adaptable, Will drawled. Besides, if you keep flying like that first time, you're going to get your aft fragged – by the 'Cons or our own side when you fly off to 'face with Starscream or someone.
Annoyance again. Mate.
Enemy, for Primus' sake! Starscream is an enemy, Will snapped back. And Ironhide will fry your aft if you as much as look like you want to go after those Seekers.
A pause followed by interest again, and Will got the distinct impression that it had been the mention of the Weapon Specialist that had drawn the bird-brain's attention.
Mate, it repeated, although this time it seemed aimed at the image of Ironhide, and if Will had been awake, he would have face-palmed. Out of all the Primus-damned builds on Cybertron... slag it. Being able to fly did not make up for dealing with a Seeker.
Starscream, Ironhide, Prime, Ratchet – do you have anything but 'facing on your processors? Will snapped.
There was a long pause and the distinct feeling that the Seeker was considering that.
Compromise? it offered hesitantly, followed by images of Ratchet, and whenever Will woke up, he owed the medic a big thank you for handling the situation.
Compromise? Will repeated, and there were another quick flicker of images of the mechs in question, lingering on-
Ironhide, the Seeker said, still hesitant – and Ratchet had definitely put the fear of the Pit into the thing. Strong.
The thought wasn't as objectionable as Will had expected – better than the alternatives, definitely, and he hadn't been lying when he had told Ironhide that it hadn't all been the Seeker making out with him in mid-air – and adapting was supposed to go both ways. He was stuck with Seeker programming but that didn't mean they couldn't make it work. Somehow.
Frag it all, he didn't get paid enough for this kind of slag.
Ironhide, Will agreed, and wouldn't the dark mech just be overjoyed to know he was being bargained away like a slab of beef. In return, you won't try to take over. It doesn't matter if we're flying – we're supposed to work together, not play parasites. I can't fly? Fine, then teach me. You teach me to fly, and I'll teach you to put it to military use.
Another long pause, and then the feeling of acceptance from the Seeker, and Will waited for a moment but no objections followed.
Truce? he finally asked.
The Seeker hesitated, and then gave the impression of a mental nod. Truce.