A/N: Oh, wow O.o I'm a bit overwhelmed that so many people actually read and liked this thing. I know I responded to all the signed reviews, but I'll mention it again for good measure: thank you! It's a bit of a slight crack-bunny, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it. There'll be some actual human interaction coming up when Ratchet is satisfied their new Seeker is stable enough, and it's heading in the right direction for that now, at least.
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Will came out of recharge feeling honestly rested and clear-headed for the first time in days. The Seeker was there but lingering in the background, thought-pattern merging with his own rather than trying to take over by force, and the stress of trying to stay in control was gone, too, and with it a lot of tension he hadn't even been aware of. It took him a moment to comprehend that fact, and a moment longer to discover that Ironhide was silently watching him, sitting on the neighbouring berth.
The Seeker purred in the back of his mind and Will hesitated as he tried for the first time to really see the weapon specialist as the Seeker saw him.
Strong. Stubborn. Unflinchingly loyal. Will knew that much, already. Bearings of chrome steel and the ability and willingness to take shots that could have killed a smaller mech and still take on Megatron with relentless brutality. Not news, either.
Strong, the Seeker whispered in his mind, and he let it come to the forefront of his awareness as he tried to see through its eyes.
Gleaming black bearing the scars of countless battles that even the best of Ratchet's work couldn't remove completely; battles fought and survived, won or lost; scars earned in the defence of what he believed in, an unbreakable oath he had honoured unflinchingly through it all.
Old – ancient – and the very feel of it penetrated the air in a way that made him wonder how he had never noticed before. Older than human civilization, older than entire species, older than anyone on base save perhaps their medic, and he made even Optimus Prime look like little more than a sparkling in comparison.
He fought brutally because that was how war had been, with no room or time for flashiness or showing off; intimidating like Megatron himself if he really wanted to be and ruthlessly efficient in a way that probably wasn't entirely Autobot approved at times, and it suddenly made sense to Will.
The Seeker wanted a mate, someone to spark its offspring, and Ironhide had proved his strength, his loyalty, and his protectiveness and will to survive, and no slagging wonder the thing was completely taken with him, and it wasn't just the Seeker watching the dark mech with admiration this time.
Gleaming black plating, the smooth curves of devastatingly lethal cannons, and the Seeker purred again and didn't object too much when Will kept the heating fans from starting up. Maybe it was satisfied that he was starting to see its point of view and didn't really need the fans anymore, and maybe it was another thing to thank Ratchet for, and whatever it was, he appreciated it.
Mate.
And Will could probably live with that, he realised, as Ironhide arched what passed for an eyebrow on a mech and Will noticed for a moment that the mech's self-control was strong enough to keep anything from slipping through their bond. Ratchet had probably had a talk with him, too.
"Lennox?"
He had been staring, Will suddenly realised as well, and he shrugged slightly. "Just thinking," he said, which wasn't entirely a lie. Just... leaving out select bits of the truth, because like slag he was going to tell Ironhide what he and the Seeker had agreed on.
Ironhide just nodded at that. "How's your head today?" he finally asked.
Good question, actually, and he paused to consider it.
"Better," Will answered after a moment. "We... worked things out."
Ironhide nodded again and watched him like he wasn't quite sure if Will was telling the truth, and Will stayed still as he let the mech take whatever time he needed. He had been acting strange with the Seeker in charge, after all. In Ironhide's place, he would have been worried, too.
"Ratchet said you're free to leave. You just needed to rest," Ironhide finally said, then paused, still not looking completely convinced. "If you feel up for it, your new alt-mode arrived."
It was all he needed to say, all they needed to hear, and bright optics lit up in brilliant blue fire as Will and the Seeker spoke as one.
"Show me."
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He let the Seeker stay almost at the front of things as they made their way through the base. It was the first time he had really let himself see people's reactions to him as anything but a source of annoyance, and to see it from the Seeker's point of view was... interesting.
Startled glances from the humans they passed, a natural wariness from being around an unfamiliar mech that looked anything but harmless and more than a few frowns from the small crowd who knew enough to recognise a Seeker on sight, and the presence in Will's mind purred.
The mechs were more used to him, and the looks he got from those weren't wary in the slightest but ranged from curious to thoughtful to downright appreciative – and not just for the military asset he represented – and it was really no wonder Seekers were so arrogant. Not when everyone had that reaction to him.
The Seeker part of him preened, enjoyed every bit of attention they drew, and Will let it as they approached an undamaged runway with Ironhide leading the way, and an instant later the Seeker's preening abruptly stopped as their new alt-mode came into view.
Sleek, lethal, state-of-the-art, and even Will could appreciate the curves and lines of the jet that waited silently on the runway.
Perfect, he whispered in his mind, and Ironhide gave him a glance as an echo of their emotions slipped through their tentative bond.
The Seeker purred its silent agreement, and then they reluctantly turned their attention to Optimus Prime as he approached, and Will barely had time to realise that the graphic images that usually appeared around their Prime were gone and the heating fans stayed silent without any help from him, and then his superior was in front of him and he snapped to attention.
"Sir." He straightened and was almost eye-to-eye with their Prime as the mech gave them a considering look.
"Ratchet mentioned that he had a... talk with you yesterday."
"Yes, sir," Will answered, and pushed aside the thought that wondered just how much Ratchet had shared with their Prime. Most of it, probably, if he had been smart, because Will was a Seeker and there was no guarantee Ratchet's threats would have been enough to keep that part of him reined in. "We... reached an agreement." Take it one day at a time, he specifically didn't say, because hesitation wasn't an option. Ratchet's threats didn't matter in that particular regard. Seekers didn't respect weakness and the only way their truce would work without that constant threat of violence and deactivation was if Will proved to the thing that he wasn't going to back down.
Optimus Prime nodded.
"Very well. As Ratchet has cleared you for active duty again, you may scan your alt-mode." A slight gesture at the jet, and Optimus Prime was forgotten again, because this was perfect, flawless, lethal grace, and every Seeker instinct in him sang their approval in wires and lines and processors.
A clawed hand reached out to gently – gently – touch one wing of the F-22, making the pilot waiting nearby shift nervously, and then Will took a step back and let the Seeker take over and scan the jet.
Data flooded his processors an instant later – height, length, wingspan, weight, speed, materials – and the data came together to give the image of what he needed and then he was transforming, a slight change of colour from the Cybertronian grey as plating responded first, and then he felt his body take itself apart to rearrange it all again in the still-unnerving transformation process, and then he was staring at the runway, fourteen feet shorter and with the sensations of a brand new alt-mode taking over.
Perfect, the Seeker agreed, echoing his first impression of the thing, and it didn't matter if it was an Earth-based jet. It was one of the best they could get on the planet, and if it was good enough for Starscream and his trine, Will couldn't find much to complain about.
A quick scan confirmed that he had gotten it right – a near-perfect copy of the F-22, with only the Autobot insignias and the NEST etchings marking him as anything but a normal jet.
Another second of admiring his new alt-mode, and then he realised something else – he had a cockpit. He'd need a pilot, or people would stare. The scan-ray reappeared, swept across the pilot's uniform, and the man yelped and took a step back, and Optimus frowned slightly.
You, the Seeker part suggested, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and Will only barely managed to stop it before a hologram version of his human self appeared in the cockpit.
No!
Confusion from the Seeker, not understanding his reaction at all, and Will sighed mentally. It wouldn't be fair to Sarah. She has enough to deal with without having a hologram around to remind her of me all the time.
The Seeker seemed to consider that for a moment, then brought up a new suggestion in their mind – very pretty and very young, Sam's age at the most, and Will sighed again.
Too young. We'd draw too much attention like that.
More confusion. We draw attention now. We are a Seeker. Implied: 'What's a little more?', and Will paused before he answered.
Compromise. The Seeker was young, so it went for a young hologram. The Seeker was vain, so it went for pretty as well, even if it was a slightly unnatural version of 'pretty' to Will's mind. Compromise, frag it, and if the Seeker was willing to try, he could slagging well do the same.
How about mid-twenties? he asked and didn't sigh this time.
The Seeker seemed to consider that for a moment, too, and then came the familiar feel of agreement as it brought up another suggestion – male, wearing a copy of the pilot's uniform, mid-twenties, brown hair, with echoes of what Will had looked like at that age... but almost painfully attractive, unnervingly, unnaturally so, all arrogance and ruthless confidence, and Will nodded slowly and bit back his objections. He still wasn't completely happy with the faint resemblance in the physical features, but on the other hand he could appreciate the Seeker's attempt to acknowledge his presence as well, and considering what he knew of the Seeker... it was as nice a compromise as they could probably reach. That Seeker part didn't feel willing to tamper with the inhuman attractiveness of the hologram and it was a battle Will wasn't going to start.
All right.
The hologram flickered into existence and unnatural bright blue eyes focused on Optimus, and whatever else might be said about the Seeker, subtle and inconspicuous weren't on the list.
For long seconds, their Prime simply watched him and Will felt the Seeker part grow increasingly restless before the mech finally spoke.
"Can we expect a repeat of your last flight?"
The hologram straightened. "No, sir."
Almost sulking from the Seeker at that, but it didn't flat-out argue. Even it was smart enough to realise that pulling another stunt like that was likely to get their collective aft grounded until the Pit froze over, because Optimus Prime knew he was unstable now and Will had every faith that Ratchet would step in again if needed.
A slow nod from their Prime, and then he gestured at the runway. "Stay within your alt-mode's intended limitations. To hide is useless if you cannot do it convincingly."
The hologram sent the mech a wary look that seemed completely out of place in the arrogant features. "No other limitations, sir?"
Restricted to hovering the first time, restricted to Diego Garcia's airspace the second time, and he couldn't possibly mean-
"Ratchet kept me updated in regard to... recent developments," Optimus Prime said quietly. "I trust you."
Right, no pressure at all, then, and the Seeker part felt as confused as he did himself about it all, and he only barely registered the fact that the Seeker was looking to him for an explanation rather than taking charge itself.
Maybe he figured that since we worked our way around his orders, he might try this instead, Will said silently in response. I don't know. A pause. Can you stay within specs?
Sulking, annoyance, because why would a Seeker be bound by mere Earth-laws, but the answer still came almost instantly, even if it was an almost-sigh of petulant disappointment. Yes.
Thank you, Will said and pretended to ignore the flicker of surprise that followed and that he was pretty sure the Seeker hadn't intended him to pick up on. We can push the limits later, he added, with far more promise in those words than any of their comrades would have approved of. The F-22 was fast, but it was still a far cry from the near-Mach 3 the Seeker could pull when it dropped pretences, and they would be painfully aware of that when they took off.
Speed, g-forces, a hundred things to keep in mind, but at least it was flying, and everything considered, it was a lot more than Will could ever have hoped for and the Seeker silently agreed in his mind.
A final nod at their Prime, and the runway vanished underneath them in a roar of engine noise as five tons of alien F-22 took off, and then there was nothing but sky.
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Three hours on and most of the crowd had found other things to do – voluntarily or through the encouragement of their superiors. Three hours on, and their Seeker was still up there, still carefully staying exactly within the limitations an Earth-built jet of the same kind would have had, and at some point Sarah Lennox had made her way from the hangar she had been watching from and to the place on the runway where Ironhide still kept an eye on things.
He had always been cautious of his human allies and Will Lennox's mate was no exception to the rule and he was aware of her approach long before she reached him. A fleeting feeling of guilt about things he could do nothing to change, and then he kneeled and held out a hand, and to her credit she only hesitated for fractions of a second before she made herself comfortable in the make-shift, dark metal seat and he stood up again.
"He's good, isn't he?" she said softly, watching the Seeker as it came into view and vanished again, playing tag with clouds and testing air streams with its new alt-mode.
"He is," Ironhide agreed. Not that he had that much experience with Seekers that didn't involve shooting at them, but Will did seem to know what the slag he was doing. Will or that Seeker. Considering that he was still following orders, Ironhide had some hope that Will was still the one in charge.
Silence. Blue optics flickered to focus on the small human again, wondered briefly where their young offspring was, and then dismissed it as irrelevant. Mostly likely it was in the care of some other human on base, and it was perhaps for the better. The small human in his hand had enough to worry about as it was.
"Promise me something, Ironhide," she said quietly, still watching the Seeker as it finally began to approach for landing, and Ironhide gave her a questioning look. "Don't let them take advantage of him," she continued, quiet and unrelenting and hard as steel. "Your god took away everything that made him human. He enlisted when he was eighteen, against his parents' wishes. He's been army for longer than I've known him. It was his life, Ironhide, and your god took that from him. His life, his humanity, his home... every chance of ever having a normal life again. He's not even part of this planet anymore now. He may be yours now but nobody asked him what he wanted. That insignia on his wings doesn't give anyone the right to treat him as just another stupid military advantage, just because your god made sure he's got nowhere else to go."
"He is a comrade in arms," Ironhide frowned. "He is a warrior. To ask him to remain outside of battle-"
"I'm not," the small human female bit out. "I'm not asking you to keep him out of battle. I'm asking you to keep them from going too far just because they have their own stupid jet now. I may not be married to him anymore, Ironhide. The papers might claim I'm a widow, and I might still have to tell Annabelle that her father won't be coming home, but I'm still going to fight for him. You people already took him from me once. I will make you regret it if you do it again. He didn't ask for this, and everyone else is too busy giving him flirty eyes to give a damn how his mind is doing. Promise me, Ironhide. You were his friend before. Promise."
The roar of jet engines and their new Seeker touched down, a perfect imitation of a real F-22 as he still stayed within the rules he had been given, and something in Ironhide's spark twisted.
"I can't," he finally replied, with real regret in the words. "I will try, and I trust Optimus Prime's judgement, but I cannot give you that oath."
A soft sound from the human. "Good enough, then," she said softly. "Thank you."
Ironhide nodded slightly and up ahead the Seeker came to a halt and transformed to wait patiently as Ratchet approached. Post-flight check-up – you could never be too sure, and the Seeker part was still young. It never hurt to play it safe in cases like that.
"For what it is worth... you have my sympathies, Sarah Lennox," he said quietly. "I will always welcome a new ally, but I have not forgotten the circumstances. Whatever happens, he will not be alone. I can promise you that."
Sarah Lennox nodded and kept watching what used to be her husband as he complied with Ratchet's scans with far more tolerance than Ironhide expected a normal Seeker would have shown.
"I'll hold you to that," she said, but she felt less tense as she rested in his hand, and it eased a bit of the troubled feeling he wasn't even aware he'd had about her reaction.
Silence fell again, and together they simply watched and waited in surprisingly comfortable companionship for Ratchet to be done with their new Seeker and release him for the day.
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Thousands of miles away, Soundwave contacted his Lord exactly thirty-two Earth-minutes before scheduled and made Megatron put aside his datapad. It could be a new arrival, perhaps. Things had been quiet since their last fight with the pathetic little fleshling-lovers and he didn't expect anything to happen anytime soon, either, but perhaps... Ironhide. He had taken out the fleshling in charge of their human division, after all, and the two-legged cannon had been disgustingly protective of that squishie. He didn't think Prime would dare to go after them with thoughts of vengeance so close to his processors, but their weapon specialist had always been more Decepticon than Autoscum, anyway, and simply too cowardly to admit it.
"Report," he ordered as the Communications Officer waited silently in orbit to be acknowledged.
"Autobot Seeker: located. Designation: unknown." As calm and monotone as ever, and maybe that was why it took Megatron just a moment to realise just what he had said.
"Re-scan, Soundwave. Fleshling communications have scrambled your processors. There are no Autobot Seekers," he snapped, and somewhere behind him, Skywarp tensed but continued his work without pausing.
"Confirmed. Processors: fully functioning. Autobot Seeker: located." Still calm. Still monotone. Still impossible. The Autoscum had no Seekers left, and Soundwave made note of every new Cybertronian that arrived from space, whatever their loyalties. A quick scan revealed his own trine to be where they were supposed to, and even if they hadn't been... Soundwave would have known their designations. Those couldn't be hidden.
A moment of hesitation, and then he leaned back in his chair again, troubled. "Acknowledged, Soundwave. Keep an eye on it."
"Soundwave: acknowledges," the Communications Officer responded and the connection fell silent again as Megatron kept staring at the new data they'd received.
How the frag did you pull off that one, Prime?