A/N: I've got a busy weekend coming up, so the next update won't be until sometime next week. Until then, here's the next part :) Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
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Will came out of recharge feeling grouchy. 'Grouchy' lasted for all of thirty seconds before his processors came back online completely, and then it rapidly went downhill from there. If he had been human, he would have called it a simple case of not being a morning person – which, granted, was unusual for him, but he was a Seeker now, and that could have explained it – but with a feeling of dread, he was starting to get the sinking realisation that his foul mood had another source.
His entire body seemed to hum, pent-up, excess energy straining against every single part of him, made lines and wires ache and sensors throb painfully, and he hissed instinctively as he stepped into sunlight, overly sensitive optics taking too long to adapt and processors making their displeasure known.
He felt like he was burning, consumed by energy that had nowhere to go, and he knew with painful certainly that he had been an idiot when he'd wondered if his bad mood the first few days had been because of Seeker-instincts demanding he interfaced with someone. It hadn't, and he knew that now. There was nothing he could mistake this for, and he shoved aside the graphic images before they could get a foothold, familiar images of Ironhide the day before, of Prime's strength and quiet dominance, of Ratchet's skills and ruthless ultimatum given to a graceful, lethal war-machine so much larger than the medic himself, and the buildings around them were closing in, shadows creeping closer as Will grasped for anything that could help him stay in control.
Confusion from the Seeker, impatience and demands and worry all in one, the need to fly, to fight, to 'face, anything to make the painful tension in his wings and his body and processors go away and Will shuddered instinctively.
Words and impressions rushing through their processors, mate, bonded, control, overload, make it stop, and he clenched still-alien hands tightly.
You're kidding, he told the Seeker, nearly desperate. Ratchet was kidding. Don't tell me your kind actually gets pissy if they don't get to 'face with someone. There are other ways to do this. I told you I agreed, we'll go after Ironhide, but I'm not going to jump him just because you have the self-control of a human teenager. You're a slagging Seeker. Tell me you've got more self-control than this.
Images; graphic, unwelcome, and sending systems further into overdrive, and then the clear feeling of the Seeker honest-to-Primus trying, reaching for alternatives and desperately trying to find something that worked, and the image that followed was more sensation than visual, spinning through endless sky with wind tearing at wings and tail and engines, faster than any human jet, and the Energon in his veins sang at the thought and the feeling that followed from the Seeker was sheer desperation.
Fly.
One word, all it had said to him on the topic so far, and even through relentless instincts demanding to be obeyed, it was trying to help.
Cooperation. Adaptation. Compromise. Slag it.
He keyed the communications line to their Prime before he could think twice and spoke before the mech could do anything more than acknowledge his presence.
"Permission to fly, sir?"
His voice sounded strained even to himself, a flood of emotions just barely kept in check as he set in every last bit of willpower he had to keep himself on the ground and level-headed until he got a response – and what would happen if that response was 'no' was something he wasn't going to consider unless it actually happened – and time stretched on forever, seconds turning endless as he could almost hear Optimus Prime frown on the other end and the Seeker screamed mentally and fought against restraints that could barely hold.
"Please, sir," Will continued after seconds that felt unbearably long, and he knew he was uncomfortably close to pleading, knew it wasn't something he would ever have done before, but desperation took over, claustrophobia closing in even out in the open as hangars seemed to tower above him, and he shuddered subconsciously. Excess energy wrecking havoc with his processors and only two proven ways to get rid of it. "It's fly or find someone to jump, and I can't. Won't. Sir."
Please.
He really had no dignity left at the moment and he'd slagging well beg if it got him off the ground and the chance to clear his mind, and their Prime had clearly come to the same conclusion as he responded after what felt like an eternity.
"Stay within one hundred nautical miles of Diego Garcia, and come down before you drop from lack of Energon," Optimus Prime finally said, and if he had any reservations about it, he didn't let it show. "Go."
And in a roar of powerful engines, Will was off, transformed mid-air and lost among the rain-clouds that covered the island as the temperature around him dropped and then there was nothing but a grey sea of rolling clouds below and endless, impossibly blue sky stretching out above him as he dipped, skimmed the top of the clouds and drew strands of them with his wings, and as Mach one became Mach two and kept climbing, Will knew he was home.
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Thousands of miles away, Megatron had only half an optic on his datapad when Soundwave contacted him ahead of schedule again, gaining the instant full attention of his Lord before he even spoke.
"Report." He suspected what Soundwave was contacting him about, because the Autoscrap had been unusually quiet lately, but he wanted confirmation before he would allow himself to get his hopes up.
"Autobot Seeker: located," Soundwave reported, calm and monotonous as ever as he confirmed Megatron's suspicion. "Current position: outside reach of Autobot scrambling field."
Images followed and showed the creature for the first time, recording taken from orbit and showing the jet from above – F-22, Megatron noted, like his own trine –and with markings that left little doubts about its loyalty. The Autobot insignia and the human NEST mark, and he felt disgusted at the sight of that on something so obviously sparked for the sort of freedom the ground-pounding Autoscum and their Prime refused to give the breed.
An Autobot Seeker, however baffling and disturbing the idea was, and this time it was outside the shielding that kept the enemy base hidden from even Soundwave's optics... which meant that the thing could be contacted, too. It was too far away to be reached without giving the Autoscum plenty of warning in advance, but communication wasn't easily blocked. Not completely.
Seekers listened to Seekers. They were hardwired to belong in trines and could be social to a degree uncommon to most Decepticons, even with Seekers outside of their trine if they felt a kinship with them. He could contact the Seeker and use the response to power that was hardwired in the build, too, to make the creature listen, or he could take advantage of the fact that the few Seekers on Earth were already his. Seekers listened to Seekers and Seekers listened to power, and however treacherous his backstabbing Second in Command was, he was also indisputably the most skilled Seeker of his generation – Megatron would not have put up with him otherwise – and a strong trine leader at that.
Starscream would shoot him in the back if given the slightest chance, but the Air Commander's disgust for the Autoscum far outweighed any feelings he had for his leader, and Megatron knew that, too. Seekers respected power, and Thundercracker and Skywarp were loyal to their Lord. Starscream was the exception to the rule, too vain and too arrogant to admit his place. If the Autobot Seeker was willing to take orders from Optimus Prime, of all people...
Another moment of thought, and then he opened a familiar frequency. The Autobot Seeker was too close to its base to be able to physically approach it without giving it time to retreat, but they wouldn't need to for now. For the moment, communications alone would be sufficient.
"Starscream. The Autobot Seeker has been located again. Find out who and what that thing is and how in the Pit Prime managed to claim it. Don't fail me in this."
He didn't wait for a response but turned his attention back to his Communications Officer again, processors already at work considering the possible outcomes. "Soundwave, give him what information he needs and record their communication. Keep me updated."
"Soundwave: acknowledges."
And with only some slightly troubled thoughts running through his processors, Megatron leaned back in his chair and waited restlessly for things to be put into motion.
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Will hit the one-hundred mile barrier with the roar of engines and an impossible turn as he twisted and went straight up, g-forces that would have crushed a human dizzying even to a Seeker, and then there was only sky above him as he climbed, tilted backwards and followed the dome of his one-hundred mile limit with perfect accuracy, going back and up and somewhere in his wake, he had left a bit of the pent-up energy, but it wasn't enough, never enough, and he pushed his engines further and shuddered as he found nothing more to give.
Faster, something whispered, himself or the Seeker and he wasn't sure, and it suddenly made sense that they needed to interface, because at this rate it would take all day to rid himself of the excess energy and an overload could have done it so much faster, and was the thought really that repulsive to him?
He shuddered again, spun to clear his mind and shake off a bit of that energy, and maybe it was the distraction that cause him to miss the little flashing icon the first few seconds it appeared.
A communication request on an unknown channel, and the world froze around him as he took a closer look, bad temper and strained processors forgotten as he ran on autopilot and could do nothing but stare at the icon that continued to blink insistently.
Unknown channel with no Autobot encryption. It could be a virus, could be any given one of a number of nasties, but Ratchet had made sure his 'protection' was up to date – and that term had made Will groan more than once – and after another moment of thought, he accepted the request. There was nothing on his radars and he was close enough to Diego Garcia to get back long before anyone could get close to him, and whoever might be behind the request, refusing it and not knowing at all would be even worse. Humanity had a well-developed sense of imagination, and Will was still human in some ways that counted.
The channel opened and the voice that followed should have been familiar but didn't sound it, and Will felt himself freeze again at the words, strong and demanding and with no room for arguments.
"Decepticon Air Commander Starscream to unidentified Seeker, negative six-point-two, seven-two-point-four. Designation and faction?"
Starscream, his mind repeated, frantic thoughts going through his processors, realising an instant later that the voice that was so grating on human ears held so much more to Seeker audio receivers, and he trembled as the Seeker part of his spark responded to the hail, fascination and respect and sheer, mind-numbing lust and he ruthlessly pushed it aside, helped by the sudden confusion that followed as the words really registered.
Designation, his mind repeated and the Seeker part stayed silent, and Will realised with a sudden chill that none of them had given it any thought at all. He was human and had refused an Autobot designation, and no one had asked the Seeker, and if creators gave their offspring a name when they were brought into the world and the Seeker came from Primus... it might not have been given one at all.
He halfway expected the Seeker part to take over in response to the Decepticon – to Starscream, whom the Seeker had fantasized about ever since they woke up in their new body – but instead there was uncertainty and hesitation and almost submissive respect, and Will realised a moment later that if he wanted to keep Starscream from noticing that the Autobot Seeker was, in fact, completely lost about the whole thing, he'd have to handle it himself. He wasn't going to show weakness to Starscream, couldn't afford to give any sign that anything was wrong and possibly make his family a target if the 'Cons found out what had really happened, and whatever else might happen with him being an alien robot now, he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.
He crossed his fingers mentally and then he responded and put every ounce of authority and unyielding determination he had in his voice.
"Decepticon Air Commander, this is Autobot Seeker, designation Will, under the command of Optimus Prime... as you'd know if Soundwave had done his job right. Get his optics checked, Starscream. My markings are clear," he replied and let sarcasm show in his voice.
He felt the Seeker's uncertainty at having no other designation to give but Will's, but it was better than nothing, and they both knew that, too. The Seeker had translated it into Cybertronian in his mind even as he spoke – some complex glyph or another that his processors translated to stubborn/strong/dominant/unyielding – and it was better than an obvious Earth-name, at least, and there was the fraction of a pause and Starscream's silence sounded almost amused.
"Autobot Will," the Decepticon finally responded, and made a sound that Will mentally translated as a snort. "An unfitting name for a pathetic piece of Autoscrap but appropriate for a Seeker, I suppose. Did you get your loyalties confused, Seeker? What are you doing with the Prime?"
The Seeker stirred, lingering images of the sheer power of being in the presence of Starscream and Megatron to underscore the Air Commander's words, clawed hands grabbing roughly, twisting wings, making him obey through sheer power and strength, and it took every last bit of self-control Will had to keep the nausea at bay.
"I've got processors that can focus on other things than flying and interfacing," Will bit back, disgusted. "And I don't get a hard-on from getting squishy, organic bits between my toes."
Laugher filtered through the channel, harsh and mocking, and as the human side started to take over more, Starscream voice sounded increasingly like it was supposed to – unpleasant. "So you obey them instead? You're unworthy of your wings, Seeker. I can feel your energy from across this planet. You have no trine, no sense of your worth, not even an interface partner to release your tension and worship your wings as they should be. The Prime deserves no Seeker on his side. Megatron came back with wings himself, Autobot Will. He understands the lure of the skies. The Prime never will. He will cage you and bind you to the ground-pounders until your wings grow lifeless and vanish into nothing."
One hundred nautical miles, Will's mind whispered, unbidden, and the Seeker shuddered at the restriction. It was for their own safety, Will knew that, the Seeker knew that, but it didn't change the sudden feeling of a leash around his neck when all he wanted was to fly, fly until the world ended, until sky turned to space and there was nothing between him and the stars but endless darkness, and Starscream continued at the sound of his silence.
"You know I speak the truth, Seeker," he stated, and the voice had become fuller, more alluring again, strength and control and dominance, and the images rose again as well, unwanted and disturbingly appealing and Will could do nothing but listen as aeons of experience demanded his obedience. "I am the Decepticon Second in Command, Air Commander of the Lord High Protector's army, leader of Lord Megatron's first-among-trines, and I offer you freedom if you are enough of a Seeker to dare claim it. When you tire of the Prime and the ground-pounders, the offer stands." Energy crackled and Will spun desperately, threw himself into a series of manoeuvres that would have killed any human, and Starscream knew, because the words that followed were dark velvet and touched against every sensitive bit of Will's processors, and then the Air Commander laughed.
"Hail the true children of Primus!"
An instant later the connection was cut, and energy danced across wings, across engines and tail and left icy cold behind, and Will continued straight up, put every last bit of energy he could grasp into the engines and desperately tried to keep his last, weak grasp on their combined self-control.
He wasn't going to let it control him. He was a Seeker, but he was also William Lennox, and they were Pit-be-damned stronger than this.
You can outrun anything, Will bit out at the Seeker who had stayed quiet in the back of his mind and felt it stir in response to the challenge. Prove it.
Engines suddenly screamed, alien metal trembled under the relentless assault of sheer force, and warnings appeared in Will's processors but he ignored them and trusted the Seeker, and even as the warnings continued, his body withstood and the Seeker was nothing more than brilliant, vibrant joy-
- And twenty-eight miles above Diego Garcia, five tons of alien jet hit Mach three.