22. Bring the Universe
The ride back was stressful. Allison figured out immediately that Bumblebee was choosing not to take her back into town. A warring conflict was in progress within her, knowing that returning to a place that was assuredly bugged was a huge risk. Likely that wasn't something Bumblebee would know but he clearly had enough foresight to not trust the location. There was no doubt she was a fugitive now. A criminal wanted by the FBI. She'd never be able to show her face in public again and the thought of that was making her feel sick. Things kept getting exponentially worse, and Allison knew that this wasn't even the worst it could get. She was getting so tired of digging past rock bottom, that the idea of collapsing right into the dirt was starting to look like a legitimate option.
The Autobot companion transporting her had gone suspiciously silent. Allison thought Bumblebee was probably distracted; She hoped he was yelling at the twins in whatever secret way he could. Allison didn't feel much like talking about it, but she was worried about what this all meant. She did not want to stay caged up in the Ark for the rest of her life, and even worse, was she about to get in trouble after only just meeting Optimus Prime? She'd had nothing to do with this. It wasn't fair.
And why was Sunstreaker there? From what she knew of him, being involved in one of Sideswipe's pranks seemed like the last thing he'd ever want, especially after falling victim to his last stunt. Perhaps Sideswipe conned him into it, in some obscene attempt to protect her? But if that were the case, that didn't seem like motive enough for Sunstreaker, given his interest in her was distant at best.
She didn't even want to think about Prowl. There was no way he was going to be charitable enough to believe that Allison had zero hand in anything that had just happened. She was already on thin ice with him, and this latest catastrophe was the final crack that would plunge her straight into Autobot jail.
And what was Wheeljack going to think?
They weren't going to have to wait long to find out, because as soon as Bumblebee slid to a very hurried stop outside the Ark's main entrance, who should come stomping out but Prowl himself. Allison could tell through the brief glance through Bumblebee's windshield that he was not happy. He was hunched over in the stereotypical way that screamed bad business incoming, and his door wings were ramrod straight. His narrowed eyes were a burning white she almost couldn't look at without blinding herself. Prowl already knew about what happened.
"How did he find out already?" Allison wondered out loud. She didn't even have time to think it over or strategize how to deal with the oncoming freight train before Bumblebee ushered her out.
"Don't know," he said quickly. "But we better get this over with." He sounded so dejected and tired. Maybe this wasn't Bumblebee's first time getting dragged into some kind of chaos from the twins. It was Allison's secondtime against her will, and she was already fed up with it.
Taking that as her cue, Allison stumbled out as soon as Bumblebee opened the door, making sure to give him a wide berth as he transformed to his feet.
"Hey, Prowl, listen. Before you get—"
"I'm going to kill them!" Prowl interrupted Bumblebee with a quickly raised hand before he could get any further comments out. "No, first I'm going to make them memorize, in detail, every regulation they've broken and how much danger they put us all in. Then I'm going to kill them." While shying away and trying to stay miniscule and out of sight, Allison only caught Prowl glancing in her direction. She didn't seem to be the focal point of his wrath, which was a relief, but that meant his attention was squarely on Bumblebee.
"Where are they?" The snarl was guttural. Allison was really glad it wasn't directed at her. When Prowl took his job seriously, which so far was all the time in the short time she'd known him, he was terrifying.
"The twins?" Bumblebee was holding his composure fairly well, though his stalling tactic wasn't winning anyone over.
A single, accusatory finger invaded the personal space right in front of the scout's face. "Don't play games. Where are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker?"
Allison watched Bumblebee hesitate. He knew, but was wrestling with the idea of ratting them out. Looking around herself, there were no obvious clues to their whereabouts but that didn't mean they weren't there. He shrunk a little bit, sagging. "You may as well come out now." It was obvious he was speaking to an audience that was not immediately visible.
"Pah. Hiding. Like cowards. How original." There was no reaction in the immediate environment. "If you do not come out in the next microsecond I'm assigning you both to lab assistant duty with Wheeljack for an amount of cycles I deem appropriate."
A sudden crash of brush and vegetation right behind Allison made her jolt forward with a frightened yelp. The massive red shape of Sideswipe materialized out of the forest, dragging his feet like a misbehaving child that had just gotten caught. The fact that he'd been back there without her noticing was… troubling.
"Jackal," Allison muttered. Maybe he really was that stealthy after all. Sideswipe glanced down at her and gave her the funniest half-smile before straightening with just a little bit more confidence. She hated that.
Sunstreaker was already out of the weeds standing near Bumblebee staring off into space. "Lab assistant" duty with Wheeljack wasn't a desirable job apparently. When Prowl looked at the collective group of delinquents around him he snorted with disdain.
"I've come to expect this degree of stupidity from you by now, Sideswipe, but never in my wildest nightmares did I think you would be so careless as to perform such a stunt in plain view of the humans."
"Chill," Sideswipe said, his hands spread. "Nobody was even there!"
Prowl's straight, angular chin whipped in Sideswipe's direction. "That's not even remotely true, and even if it were, did you not for one moment think there might be surveillance cameras pointed right at you?"
Sideswipe's head sunk into his shoulder. "Oh…"
"Primus, at least Wheeljack had the foresight to hijack the human systems before stumbling around in their facilities and exposing himself to the entire planet." Prowl's gaze flew over to Sunstreaker, who didn't even meet his gaze. "Sunstreaker, I'm frankly disappointed you let yourself get roped into this." The Autobot officer shook his head. "You're lucky my time is short. All of you, inside, now. Optimus would like a word in comms."
Prowl wasn't looking at Allison, so she assumed this meant she was not to be included in this little chat. When the angry black and white Autobot spun around the military precision of his movement was uncanny. It was practiced and disciplined. Intimidating was another word, though the wilting, dejected Autobots following him looked like this was routine.
All of them except Sunstreaker, who did not move at all.
There was no visible insight into his intentions, even after several seconds of frozen silence while Allison eyed him up across the grassy clearing. She didn't really feel like following the others into whatever shitshow they would be having inside, so she thought she'd wait out in the fresh air until she knew what the hell was going on. The fact that Sunstreaker wasn't leaving was making her rethink that choice.
Opening her mouth to finally speak, she realized the yellow Autobot was glancing at her. His eyes weren't the hardened glare that usually meant he was closed to conversation. They were softer, the azure rings more diffused. She held his relaxed gaze for a moment before he turned away, making a noise that sounded derisive to her ears, and a spark of annoyance—and maybe a little fear—raced up Allison's spine. He was free to leave whenever he wanted, and didn't need to stand there if he found being around her that disgusting.
Maybe she had gotten used to this weirdly combative treatment, or maybe she was just irked enough after all her efforts to tolerate it any further, but something compelled her to speak first. "Shouldn't you be going inside too?"
It wasn't the first time she'd ever spoken to Sunstreaker, but it was the first question she'd presented to him where normally one would expect an answer rather than it being an invitation. She was essentially telling him to run along now and go get lectured even if that wasn't what she meant.
Anticipating a response that was combative, Allison was surprised when Sunstreaker gave her a noncommittal shrug instead. It was lacking in the urgency she thought the situation might have warranted, but it was also unexpectedly congenial.
"Not feeling it. I'll let Sideswipe tank the boss bots for a bit." That was surprising; such blatant insubordination. Allison was also surprised he knew the meaning of tanking, because it felt like a niche, human expression. But brothers were brothers no matter where in the galaxy you came from, and the two were rarely seen apart. If Sideswipe was in trouble for his behavior, Sunstreaker was very likely going to accrue some splash damage as his self-appointed guardian. Perhaps after so much misbehavior from his brother, she shouldn't have been shocked that Sunstreaker could no longer care less about being disciplined by his superiors. Maybe after millions of years of these types of talks thanks to your twin you just got numb to it.
It was so ballsy it was almost admirable. Allison also had no idea if that came with its own special repercussions, but Sunstreaker's flippancy suggested this was maybe not the first time he'd sidestepped consequences. "Prowl hates tardiness. What's one more thing to add to the list?" It was the first time Sunstreaker had given her a straight response with no venom. That alone caught Allison off-guard and she wasn't really sure what to say.
"Okay," she shrugged, putting her hands in her pockets while she mentally prepared her escape. "Well, I'm sorry if your brother got you into more trouble over this…."
Sunstreaker didn't respond at first, but turned his attention back to the entrance of the base. Eventually, "It wasn't his idea." This answer surprised Allison, but the Autobot didn't elaborate further, nor did he look at her, his gaze still fixated on the holographic projection of rock. "Don't you also have something you're supposed to be doing?" And there was the frosty treatment again, returning as quickly as it had thawed. Her initial impulse was to ask Sunstreaker why—why did they throw a federal agent's car off the side of a dam into the river below—but his reply made her lose her train of thought. New questions lingered in her mind, but would have to wait.
Presumably, Sunstreaker was referring to all the time she'd been spending with Wheeljack. Allison frowned. She'd honestly forgotten all about that amidst all the commotion, and now that Sunstreaker was choosing to remind her she felt terrible all over again.
Feeling her face go numb, Allison tried to think of a way to run from his question while she kicked at a rock on the ground. "Ah, not today. Change of plans." It wasn't really any of Sunstreaker's business how much of a catastrophe her last conversation with Wheeljack was. A somber thought told her that he would probably relish in the idea of her being discarded at this point.
It was really hard to read Sunstreaker's body language, but his arms were hanging loosely at his sides. Casual. He was wide open compared to how tucked together and tightly coiled she usually saw him. His gaze was no longer piercing, and seemed almost curious. This was just a conversation. Maybe this was him trying.
"You just going to stand around?" His tact could use some work.
"I wouldn't want to cramp your style."
The snort would have been cute, if it wasn't so condescending. "You couldn't if you tried."
"Then I guess we'll both just stand here then." This conversation was almost funny, and Allison stopped herself just shy of laughing. She didn't think Sunstreaker would see things the same way, but it was like two awkward strangers trying to make small-talk. After a second or two she settled on simple honesty. "I'm waiting for Bumblebee to take me back to town so I can collect my crap before I get arrested." Stopping just short of saying because of you two, she waited for a reaction.
Sunstreaker's eyes bloomed, a very brief flash of curiosity without the rest of his face changing. "Sounds fun." It almost sounded sincere. It was maybe even amused, like he understood what she meant and was in on the joke. Nevermind the fact that it was his fault. After a beat of silence and waiting, Sunstreaker eventually sighed. It was exaggerated and dramatic like one does when trying to make a very obvious point. The bright, glint of his eyes flickered as he rolled them with very obvious intent. "Fine. Come on." Now that he was facing the road, it was obvious what he was intimating but Allison didn't really believe it.
"Huh?"
"Are your audials glitched?" He gestured, waving an arm in her direction in a motion for her to follow. "Come on, fleshbag."
Allison inhaled sharply. It was just a word, but it sounded infinitely more disrespectful coming from him. Rumble had called her a few choice words that were derogatory but this was different. She wouldn't call herself an Autobot expert, and surely they weren't a monolith, but it held a certain weight to it when that language came from one of them. Sunstreaker was completely oblivious to her warring emotions, and right as he was on the cusp of transforming she finally mustered up the meager amount of courage she could.
"That's not my name."
She managed to stop him right on the precipice, all the panels on his body flared out and in the initial stages of movement before he stopped. It made him look a great deal bigger.
Sunstreaker barely turned in her direction, looking down at her over his shoulder. "Fine. Human."
"Try again." Swallowing down any remaining traces of unease, a slender root of confidence took hold. He was either really bad at this, or didn't care.
The great, annoyed sigh that propelled from every one of Sunstreaker's seams was borderline theatrical. His gaze was finally pulled towards Allison, and she was suddenly struck by his eyes. They were big, and bright, and actually kind of beautiful. They also looked a lot like Sideswipe's. There might have even been traces of playfulness on his face, like this was just a silly inside joke, or banter and the two of them had only just now realized it.
"Don't push it." Miraculously, it didn't sound offensive. It was almost freeing.
Maybe not freeing enough for Allison to have the confidence to even come near Sunstreaker once he transformed. She'd already seen his secondary form before, so it wasn't lack of familiarity. That didn't make it less intimidating to be in the near vicinity of him when he was in the shape of a very recognizable, very attractive and expensive sports car. It was the type of car mere mortals would never come close to owning or even touching, and here this alien mech was masquerading as one in disguise.
If she stood there any longer, staring at his open door eventually she knew he was going to get annoyed. There was a nagging thought in the back of her mind that screamed trap, like Sunstreaker was confining her into a tiny space to torment her for getting his interior dirty. He definitely was the type to have a vain streak, because no one chose such a flashy, eye-catching car if they didn't want to be seen.
"Get in." He finally said, with a rev of an alien engine that sounded deceptively like a growl. It wasn't as inviting as he thought, but she had to believe he was offering for a reason. Allison just hoped that reason was a poor attempt at kindness rather than malicious intent. "Or are you going to stand there and stare all day? I know I'm nice to look at, but I have things to do…"
So that's how it was going to be. Allison hated the fact that a humiliated flush began to creep up her neck and across her face. To hell with it. "Fine." She didn't need any more reasons for Sunstreaker to make fun of her, because if this was going to become a thing then she was in for an unbearable semi-acquaintanceship. Right now she had the more monumental task of not looking like a total idiot to him while trying to climb inside the cramped interior that was more flash than comfort.
Talking while sliding her body down into the seat was a distraction from the near one-hundred percent certainty that Sunstreaker was taking notes. "Do you even know where I'm staying?"
He began to drive. The movement was so sudden and so effortless as he picked up speed. This Autobot was fast. "Of course I do. We all do."
"Could you make that sound less creepy?" Allison tried very hard to keep her body small. Sunstreaker did not seem the type to be relaxed to having his personal space breached.
They were making distance, the heavily wooded roads a blur outside his windows. Had there been a human driver at the wheel, Allison would have been nervous—no, clawing at the door and fearing for her life. "I mean we have you on Teletraan-1's database. We all have access to it. It's not that complex." He paused. "Why, afraid I'm gonna abduct you, maybe lock you up in a train car in the middle of a junkyard?" His voice was eerily low and it was borderline taunting. Her ears picked up threat. The air vibrated like a sound system with the bass set all the way to maximum and Allison suddenly regretted her decision to accept his ride.
She wanted to assume the best, she really did, but Sunstreaker was making it nearly impossible. "Why do you happen to have that very specific mental image ready to go in your head?"
The air around her relaxed. A temperament valve loosened and the energy surrounding Allison felt a little less aggressive. "I'm just messing with you. If I really wanted to abduct you I wouldn't have asked. You'd be dead already." The worst part was, he was being honest, and there was little Allison could do to stop him. The second statement was nothing but a mere afterthought as if it was just a fanciful distraction. Allison felt her heart skip a beat, repressing the sudden desire to squirm in discomfort. Now Sideswipe's little quip about Sunstreaker not having "blasted" her yet carried a lot more weight.
Staring forward, she gingerly rested her hand on her knee. Her mind was racing with questions of velocity and angle of attack, and if she could survive rolling out of Sunstreaker while he was cruising at speed.
"I'm kidding." Maybe he took her silence as real fear and was worried. He wouldn't have been wrong. While Allison's eyes tried to make out the smear of shapes and color rushing past outside, she realized they were now traveling in a different direction from where they were supposed to be going. This tainted Sunstreaker's playful little banter in a more sinister light.
"Hey, uh, where are we going, exactly?" She could hear the nervous fear in her voice with the way the words wobbled around in her mouth, and despised it.
There was a long pause, where it felt like Sunstreaker was distracted. "...Uh, detour. I'm taking you to Wheeljack."
A spark of frustration snapped inside her, and Allison stopped herself just short of banging the back of her head against the seat. "This is the second time today one of you has driven me anywhere but where I wanted to go and I really need to be told what's going on before being hijacked. I can't trust you if there's no honesty." She didn't give any thought to whether Sunstreaker cared if she trusted him or not. It was hard to put into words why this was so irritating and offensive, but the reality that they could simply disregard her requests or wishes and take her wherever they wanted her to go was going to become a problem. She understood why Bumblebee did it. But Sunstreaker telling her that Wheeljack apparently had bigger priorities for her than collecting her own belongings, especially after the way he'd spoken to her earlier, was pressing against a boundary she wasn't comfortable with. It also didn't make sense.
"Look, don't get snippy with the messenger. Take it up with Wheeljack." Sunstreaker pressed on his current trajectory, unfazed.
This was not a fight Allison was willing to take on. "You're going the wrong way, then. Isn't Wheeljack back in his lab?" She turned her head to look through Sunstreaker's back window for emphasis and to confirm her own surroundings. Yep, definitely the wrong way…
"He's not, actually." That statement hung for a moment. "I'm taking you to him."
"What could possibly be so important now?" After how many days of being completely preoccupied and obsessed with running tests and putting results into equations, what was the reason for leaving? Did he think a change of scenery would change what happened earlier?
"I dunno. Maybe he wants to take you on a picnic or stargaze or whatever it is you humans do once the sun goes down."
"First of all, picnics usually happen during the day, and it's not dark enough to stargaze. I would have thought that being a spacefaring species you would place enough importance in that scientific field to understand you need to do it at night."
"Maybe once we did." Sunstreaker actually sounded regretful, and maybe even a little bit wistful at the suggestion. Allison wondered if she'd struck a specific nerve. "Haven't had much time to kick back and enjoy staring into the cold abyss. Besides, none of your stars mean anything." Now he sounded resentful, but Allison suspected she wasn't the target. "To me anyway," he quickly added as an aside, and she could have tricked herself into believing Sunstreaker was trying to sound less callous without being too obvious about it.
There was something about that statement that made Allison feel like she'd overstayed her welcome. More specifically, that she'd over-extended Sunstreaker's willingness to talk. His observation wasn't malicious, even if a little bit grating, but it obviously opened up something in him that was soft and sobering. She didn't know Sunstreaker well enough to poke at that spot, so she decided to let the last few moments of conversation tumble around in her brain instead. The way Sunstreaker pulled so violently between mildly psychotic to solemn was giving her mental whiplash. It was the longest conversation she'd had with him alone, which was something she was going to spend a lot of time thinking about.
Now she had something new to worry about anyway, and that was Wheeljack. Allison chose very deliberately not to reach out to the Autobot during the day. Reluctantly she admitted it was partially due to her own stubbornness and the need to make a point, but also to give him the space he obviously needed. Instead of taking advantage of that, Wheeljack was telling Sunstreaker to ferry her to some undisclosed location without telling anyone why. Allison wasn't in the mood, and Wheeljack probably wasn't either. This was not going to be fun.
The rest of the drive was void of conversation. The woods thickened around Sunstreaker's direction of travel, strangling any attempts Allison might have come up with to break the awkward silence. This was uncharted forest now, the only offshoots they passed labeled with old signage that indicated trail heads and campsites. Allison couldn't get a read on Sunstreaker's aura like she could with the others. Either he was good at masking it or he simply wasn't feeling anything. It wasn't especially long before the Autobot veered off sharply onto a densely overgrown side road. Minutes later he finally stopped in a small clearing, completely disregarding and bowling through the small, dirt parking area. There was an old, worn fire pit in the center, long since abandoned, so she surmised it was an unused camping spot. In the center some distance away was Wheeljack, with his back to them and hunched over to avoid standing above the canopy.
He looked so sad. Allison wasn't sure how she read his body language that way, but there was something about his slumped posture that looked defeated. Maybe it was the angle of his wings, which she'd already concluded were quite expressive, but without seeing his face it was just a hunch. Whatever emotions of anger and frustration she'd been harboring all afternoon evaporated away, because seeing him again stirred up all sorts of complicated feelings of empathy and appreciative affection for his presence.
"Alright, beat it," Sunstreaker mumbled finally, making Allison realize she'd been sitting there gaping at the Autobot outside. "My job's done here." His door opened, lifting upwards at an angle in the characteristic luxury sport swoop. All flash and zero utility. Wheeljack finally reacted to their presence and turned in a half crouch to face them, and now that his attention was directed at her Allison begrudgingly decided she couldn't linger any longer.
"How chivalrous of you." She mumbled back at him
"I don't know what that means," Of course. Why was she surprised? Allison rolled her eyes while Sunstreaker snapped his door closed. Maybe the expediency in which he did so meant that he noticed.
"Clearly." Unexpectedly, Sunstreaker didn't immediately peel off now that he was rid of her. "Thank you…" Allison managed to stammer out. Altruism had not likely been the Autobots's motivation for his actions, but that left her completely puzzled as to why he'd offered her a ride to begin with. Taking her to Wheeljack obviously hadn't been the initial plan. He must have contacted Sunstreaker while they were already traveling. That meant he had ambiguous intentions that might have been his attempt at generosity, or he really did intend to stuff her into an empty train car and lock it behind him.
Allison was not going to question the possibility of a dodged bullet as Sunstreaker finally departed. He made a noise that sounded begrudgingly accepting of her gratitude before backing away, and she took a moment to watch him fluidly turn and leave. With Wheeljack's eyes already on her back, she realized that continuing the same trajectory with her own gaze even long after Sunstreaker disappeared was her way of stalling for time.
Wheeljack's scrutiny didn't falter from her even as she finally approached him, cautiously at first, because she hadn't determined what kind of mood he was in yet. He was crouched on one knee, as he usually was, but he followed her movement with a calm, slightly timid arrangement of his visible features. When it was obvious he wasn't about to chew her head off and that this wasn't a more remote location to continue their prior argument—if one could even call it that—Allison finally relaxed and allowed her own eyes to wander.
At first inspection, it looked like Wheeljack was just crouched in a field waiting for her, but Allison's survey eventually landed on a large, compact piece of equipment laying near his feet. It was roughly her same height, with a massive metal cylinder resting on stout, tripod legs. It was impossible to tell exactly what it was, a ramshackle collection of metal plates, pieces and connectors welded together like an improvised appliance that was put together by scraps last-minute. It was complex, but obviously something that was created in a hurry.
Wheeljack made it, whatever it was.
It didn't seem necessary, or even right to bring up the last time they'd spoken. Allison wasn't interested in re-litigating whatever he was going through, even if he'd spoken to her in a way that was… unexpected. She let it go, preferring to wait and see how Wheeljack would lead the conversation.
"What's that?" Allison finally asked, pointing down at the structured pile of metal pieces at Wheeljack's feet. No greetings or pleasantries needed. The sudden flicker of his eyes indicated surprise for a second before following her gesture downwards.
"Something I wanted to show you," he said, which did not in any way answer her question. His voice sounded heavy, and coarse somehow, and she wondered if this was some new expression of emotion she was dealing with. "I overheard you and Bumblebee talking…"
"You did?" Immediately Allison's first thought was that Wheeljack had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Bumblebee earlier in the day. That pricked at her nerves in a very unwelcoming way, because that meant he'd probably bugged her phone, or Bumblebee let him listen. She was about to open her mouth to protest this assumption before something else dawned on her.
Empty field, with wide open sky, and Wheeljack sitting here with a small device with a mysterious cylinder on top. It was a telescope. Or at least something that behaved like one.
"You mean after the attack from Soundwave." She and Bumblebee had talked about the stars.
"What did you think I meant?" Allison stopped just shy of saying, I've had many conversations with Bumblebee so you need to be more specific. It was obviously what he was talking about.
"Nevermind…" Stargazing. Sunstreaker said it, but he probably didn't realize he'd guessed correctly. Now that Allison was sitting with this information, a whole host of new feelings were swirling around inside her that she was struggling to cope with. "I don't… understand…" She did understand, at a base level, what was going on. What she was struggling with was the idea that Wheeljack had orchestrated this gesture—put in effort—for her with something that did not involve energon or safety in general. This was just an attempt to socialize, and in its heartfelt simplicity, it was probably his way of apologizing too.
"You said you didn't have a telescope." Wheeljack pulled a datapad out of subspace and held it aloft. "So I made one." He said it so matter-of-factly it almost sounded easy.
Allison approached this marvel of engineering, tentatively at first, circling it as she took in all its features. It really was a mass of interconnected odds, ends, wiring and circuitry seamlessly welded together by hands that were much too big for a job of this size. Between this and her phone, she still had no idea how Wheeljack managed to perform such feats without breaking things, but it even had a crystalline lens about the size of a dinner plate.
"This looks a little small for you, doesn't it?" The easiest thing to do was to side-step her flustered emotions with a joke.
"It ain't for me," Wheeljack replied, his eyes dimming as they narrowed suspiciously. He wasn't fooled by her feigned ignorance. "Thought it was time we did something different. Get outta the workshop." His voice was quieter than usual, a little slower paced. She wondered how much of this he'd planned, because it felt like he wanted to say it for a while.
"You didn't have to do this…" Allison circled around to the other side of Wheeljack's telescope so that she now stood directly below him. "You have enough going on. You shouldn't have wasted your time on something like this."
Wheeljack looked up from the datapad and peered down at her. His eyes curved, like there was a smile underneath his mask that she couldn't see. "I had time." It was obvious what he was getting at without directly saying it.
"I said something insensitive." Allison broke eye contact first, looking away in discomfort. Her earlier position on not bringing it up seemed irrelevant now.
There was a weighted silence where Allison could feel Wheeljack's eyes bearing down on her before he shook his head. "Not insensitive. Just sensitive. We've been through a lot."
Allison shrugged in defeat. "I know, I've seen Teletraan's records. You and the Autobots—"
"—No, I mean us. In the short time we've been together, you've been shot at, thrown around…"
"Had my life turned upside down?" Allison finished for him.
Wheeljack nodded, though the action was slow. Guilt. "The truth is, I don't think it's gonna get any easier. Not any time soon. So right now I'm not just looking for a way to fix this..." He shifted on his crouched legs. It looked like a nervous gesture, but Allison also wondered how long he'd been sitting like this waiting for her. With how often the Autobots did it around her, she wondered if their legs got tired. Wheeljack didn't voice any complaint, and only sighed heavily. The heated air swelled over her head and tossed her hair. She was thankful it covered her eyes for what he said next. "I'm looking out for you. And that means not hiding from you when things get tough."
He was trying to apologize, in whatever way was manageable for him. Allison was brought back to the barely conscious, slightly drugged moments after Ratchet first tended to her. It felt like a different lifetime, but she remembered Wheeljack's discomfort once they were alone. Things were different now, but he was reluctant to come out and say what he was thinking like that night. It wasn't that he'd never said he was sorry to her before; he'd been very clear about his regret at not being there for her when Soundwave attacked. Right now though, and like those very first moments where her childhood daydreams were proven real, Wheeljack was sidestepping some other repressed emotion entirely.
At first, it was the overwhelming reality that the human child found him again and Wheeljack didn't know what to do with that. Now that he'd accepted that there was something new bothering him and weighing on his mind that he wasn't saying.
"Guess I'm just used to hiding out in my lab all the time. Things seem easier there. I can take things apart and put them back together again. Everything in there makes sense. Out here…" He gestured, though his meaning was obvious. This planet, and all the complications it presented were confusing and not easily fixed. "I can't talk to you like I did. There are things I'm not ready to say yet… but that doesn't mean I can't say I'm sorry."
It was enough. Allison shook her head. "It's okay, I am too." She wasn't going to push him to share anything he wasn't ready to, especially when she knew he had a complicated past; betrayal and trauma from losing so much, maybe more than she realized. The fact that a being of his age and physical superiority was even speaking to her from this place of empathy was difficult to grasp."None of this makes much sense to me either." Allison admitted. She looked up at the sky. The sun hadn't quite set yet, which made the possibility of using said telescope questionable. "So, what am I supposed to do? It isn't nighttime yet…"
"Since when has that mattered?" Wheeljack was either being coy, or he didn't really understand the limitations of stargazing equipment by human standards. "Ah, right, human technology is vastly inferior to what was common on Cybertron." If Allison wasn't already used to his sarcasm, that statement would have been exceptionally annoying.
She didn't really want to call attention to the fact that he used past tense to discuss his home planet. This wasn't the first time. "Yes, we are merely one step past using stone clubs," Allison said, flatly. She was going to win the gold medal for playing this game of unintentional degradation with the Autobots if it was the last thing she did. It was hard to explain why, but Allison was nervous. "So you made this… by hand ?"
"Yeah. I had a few minutes." He stiffened slightly, his chest puffing out in a grandiose way.
"Okay, maybe be a little less humble about it."
"Well, if you wanna get technical I didn't have much to work with. The parts are substandard at best, even if the welding job is pristine. I didn't have the circuitry I'd have liked to really be able to stream the correct calculations, and I had to make the lenses by melting down one of Ratchet's ventilation screens."
Poor Ratchet. "He's really not going to like that…"
"Well If he asks you about it, tell him you haven't seen it."
Allison snorted. "Sure." It was nice to fall back into routine again; easy.
Calling attention back to the datapad that was still in his hand, Wheeljack tapped at it for several minutes. The telescope itself reacted to his inputs remotely, emitting a series of clicks and whirrs as inner mechanisms shifted. There was a soft humming noise, a cycling or spinning of parts as complex connections slotted into place, and all Allison could do was stand and wonder how.
"Okay…" Wheeljack said. He reached over her and, with a single finger, turned it until he was satisfied with its physical positioning. "Look here." He tapped at a portion that at first hadn't looked like a viewfinder at all, but who was Allison to question it.
Doing as Wheeljack instructed, Allison pulled her hair behind her shoulder so that it didn't fall into her eyes as she looked into the section he'd indicated. It lacked a lens, or any sort of ergonomic comfort at all, so the edges rested against her skin in a slightly unpleasant way. That was the price one paid for building a telescope by hand from alien scraps. That took a back seat to what was revealed to her through the viewfinder because it was stunning.
Stopping herself just short of backing away in overwhelmed surprise, what filled up her entire view was the most pristine, clear image of a planet that Allison had ever seen with her own eyes. She'd seen images in news articles online and on TV before, but it was a different experience to seeing something yourself; the existence of a planetary body that was familiar, but outside her lived understanding. It was always an unreachable, intangible concept that she would never encounter in her lifetime. It was alien, but recognizable. The pale, wheat colored bands and immaculately carved rings around the equator were the attributes of just one planet in the solar system.
"It's Saturn." Allison stepped away, needing a moment to let her heart rate slow down. This was probably the clearest, largest view of the jovian planet that was possible for a telescope of this size. This was deep space telescope scale of high definition.
It also meant that Wheeljack overheard her conversation with Bumblebee about wanting to see Saturn. He remembered. She'd been aware that at some point Wheeljack was around while the scout was trying to distract her from the evening's events with friendly conversation. Apparently he'd been listening to them talk longer than she realized.
"Almost close enough to touch, huh? Not that you'd want to. This planet is not much more than highly pressurized helium and hydrogen."
Allison had to look again, to confirm what she was seeing wasn't in her imagination. Saturn was still there, the rings still curling around it like a perfectly fitted accessory. The gradient of colors were so clear, Allison could almost make out the more bluish tinted bands at the poles. "I don't know, it looks almost worth the risk. You know, Bumblebee promised me he'd take me to space." She knew Bumblebee was just being polite, but even at the time she didn't believe him.
Wheeljack chuckled. "I know, I heard him. I admire his confidence, but he's stuck here like the rest of us." The attitude from earlier softened somewhat. He sounded melancholic, but there was some humor there.
"Yeah…" Allison stepped away again, just as her face started to get warm. She didn't think anyone had ever given her something so thoughtful before. Her own dad didn't count. Wheeljack was trying to bond with her outside the context of the energon situation and his own lab, and it was making her feel something pretty intense and affectionate for him. "I don't think I'd fare very well anywhere in space anyway. Not exactly acclimated to it."
Wheeljack looked pensive, hand on his chin for a moment in that typical mannerism of an intellectual mulling over complex data. "Yeah, sadly you lack my tremendously impenetrable physique." His expression brightened suddenly, and he started tapping on his datapad. Another series of whirrs and chirps sounded out as the machinery adjusted to his new calculations. They were going to waltz right past that little bit of personal indulgence apparently. "But perhaps I can show you something else pretty special." He nodded towards the telescope, indicating for her to look through it. "If you're ready of course."
Allison nodded. She could sit there and stare at Saturn all night long if he let her but she'd become so swept away by this magnanimous effort that she couldn't say no. Leaning back into the eye piece, what was staring back at her was the bright brilliance of a glistening star. Only, it wasn't a ball of burning gas. Light refracted and glimmered in a spectrum of colors, burning brighter off different sections; vast areas on the surface deflecting the golden luminosity that burned from within. It wasn't as clear as Saturn, a consequence of its greater distance from Earth. She didn't need Wheeljack to tell her what this blurred orb was, because she could feel it in her gut.
It wasn't like the clear images and videos Teletraan-1 showed her, but seeing something recorded through a screen during a time long passed was not the same as witnessing with your own eyes.
Stepping back again, Allison turned to Wheeljack. "This is Cybertron." She tried to think back to the projection he'd shown her in Teletraan-1's server room. That image had obviously been more clear; a recording from a long-forgotten satellite no doubt. It was hard to compare what was in her memory from that time to what she was seeing now because they were incomparable. One was a snapshot in time from a distant past when it was in its prime. The other was a blurry mass of photons perceived thousands of lightyears away, after it had already begun its decay.
Wheeljack nodded. "It is. At least, as close to what it looks like at this very moment from this distance." That was true. The many lightyears of expanse between Earth and Cybertron meant that what she was seeing was still a very long time ago. There was no telling how much the tormented planet had changed since this particular stream of light reached her eyes.
Eyes that just so belonged to the only human to ever be able to see such a planet, let alone comprehend how it was even possible. All while standing in some random field on Earth, while the rest of humanity was blind to its existence. No amount of hanging out with Cybertron's children was enough to dull her sense of wonder at just how incredibly special this moment was.
"I still think it's beautiful, Wheeljack." She remembered him sounding so bitter and resentful the last time they discussed this very same topic. Whatever he felt was valid, because he'd experienced its downfall first-hand, but Allison didn't feel right acknowledging it. It was still where he came from; where he was born if such a concept was accurate for his species.
Admittedly she hadn't spent a lot of time considering that idea: where Wheeljack—where they had originated from or how they'd come into existence. The fact of their nearly immortal lifespan was already a lot to accept when compared to her own human mortality. That reality meant they had a beginning. To put it into palatable terms that she could relate to, a birthdate: coming into existence and gaining self-awareness. Wheeljack seemed so… ageless somehow. Like he'd always existed as a part of the framework of the cosmos. With their lengthy existence it felt like they kind of did in a way, like they'd just sprung from the well of a hot star with some kind of glorious purpose. It sounded beautiful, even though she knew the truth was probably a lot more mundane.
So this place that had birthed them—Cybertron—still glistened in a space of beauty despite its state of misery, because it gave them life. Allison could never think of such a place as ugly. She thought about Earth, and how—when seen from a distance—the same might be said about her own planet. Underneath all the shit and the garbage humanity had thrown at each other, there was a beautiful, rare jewel passing through the universe.
Wheeljack was looking up at the sky, fixated on some point Allison could not see, though she wondered how much he could visualize without the aid of a telescope. She watched his expression of longing, feeling an immense amount of sadness and wondered if there was something she could say. Her collective experience, and existence was so miniscule compared to his, and she didn't know what she could offer that would help. She hadn't lost a planet. At least not yet.
After those few moments of silence Wheeljack sighed before settling back on his legs. "I know." He looked back down. There was warmth in his gaze that made the colors of his eyes swim like reflections through water. "But I made peace with losing it a long time ago. This is home now, and it needs to be protected."
Allison nodded slowly, her hand resting on the telescope as she looked down at the ground. This was probably not the home they would have chosen had there been an option, but it's where they ended up regardless. The specific set of cosmic dominos that would have needed to fall just for her to stand in the middle of this old campsite with this unfathomable alien was statistically improbable. Yet, here they were, and she was grateful for it.
"Well, I'm glad you're here," She laughed, embarrassed. The experiences that led the Autobots to Earth were not great, so maybe it wasn't the best sentiment to have. She knew that despite outward appearances and how they may behave, they didn't belong here. Eventually, they would go home if given the opportunity, which would have been the right decision. Despite the intrusive thought of how heartbroken she would be to watch them go—to watch Wheeljack leave again—it was where they were supposed to be. Allison knew it was selfish, and she wanted them to be able to return to Cybertron to restore it, but she also found herself being afraid of being left behind. Seeing the beleaguered planet only reminded her of just how far away from her they'd actually be.
At the end of the day Allison wanted what was best for them. That's what love really was after all.
"Thank you for showing me this."
Wheeljack watched her, pensively, as if trying to analyze her thoughts. "We're here now, Allison. He gestured with a finger towards the center of her chest as a means of emphasis; towards her heart. "If I can't ever take you up to see the universe, I may as well bring it to you." Just as Allison was about to blabber out something flustered and dramatic at whatever important message Wheeljack was trying to impart, he retracted his hand and gave her a look. "That is, if you're not too busy making a mess of a certain government agent's mode of transportation."
Oh no, he knew about it too. "Word really does travel fast…" Allison sighed. "I had nothing to do with it. I don't know why those two followed us."
Wheeljack raised his hands. "I'm not suggesting anything." He stroked his face again, considering something. "I might have done the same thing to be honest…"
"I'm flattered. Though, I'm wondering if I can show my face in town again. I don't exactly want to leave the motel because it's comfortable. But a federal agent isn't going to ignore his car getting tossed into a river."
"Then I'll have to watch you more carefully..." If Wheeljack was going to inconvenience himself just for her comfort she wasn't sure how she felt about that.
If however he was watching her before wasn't careful, then what exactly did he mean by more carefully. She was afraid to ask. "I'm not asking you to do that." Without really thinking, Allison reached out and placed her hand on Wheeljack's, where it was thrown over his knee. She could only really wrap her fingers around his thumb, but the events and discussions of the day made her feel like that extra step was needed. There was no time to decide if it was inappropriate or unwelcome, which made her nearly abandon the gesture immediately. Wheeljack however shifted his hand towards himself, pulling her slightly closer. This felt like acceptance.
"There's more than Decepticons to watch out for." He looked at the telescope thoughtfully for a moment before looking back at her with a sigh that was restrained. "No need to think about that tonight."
Allison wasn't sure what Wheeljack was implying, aside from the obvious, sobering thought that other humans had technically never been eliminated from the list of possible threats. She was more than familiar with never truly feeling safe, even before the idea of alien dangers entered her life. While Agent Fowler himself had never seemed malicious, now that something pretty significant had struck his notice there was no telling what sort of other human elements he would call in. But Wheeljack was also right. Now wasn't the time to lose herself in anxiety about what real and perceived threats were clawing their way forward. The glow from the Autobot's eyes held infinite compassion, so for now, she could set that all aside and focus on this experience. Eventually her concerns faded against the sincerity and understanding they were able to carve out from a day that started in an infinitely worse place.
The rest of the waning dusk was spent staring off into space, literally. After time spent hearing more of Wheeljack's stories from Cybertron, eventually it became clear that in the late hours it was time to go home. After subspacing the telescope (she still had no idea how they did that, it was practically magic to her) Wheeljack transformed and ushered her inside.
As soon as she sat down, overwhelming fatigue finally washed over Allison as she yawned. It had been quite a day of excitement, most of it bad, but despite all that she could not help but feel more secure than ever. There was a soft hum around her, and it almost felt like Wheeljack was singing. He was happy.
After a while of driving, leaning her head against the window to stare at the darkened terrain beyond Wheeljack finally quieted down. He was either concentrating or was growing tired himself. There wasn't really more to say that hadn't already been said so the silence was easy. Now that he was driving on smooth pavement the soft ride started to lull Allison to sleep. Just before closing her eyes, a brilliant flare of light streaked across the sky, jostling her back into wakefulness.
She'd seen that kind of streak before, and it was almost fitting after spending the evening with Wheeljack staring into the universe. "Oh, a shooting star…"
The silence that followed was only mere seconds, but there was something that hung in the air during that blip of time that made the hair on the back of Allison's neck stand on end. Something was off.
"That's not a star."
The second Allison opened her mouth to question what he meant, the sudden, neck-snapping thrust of Wheeljack's momentum seizing threw her forward onto the dashboard. The question she was about to ask was strangled into a scream as the immediate braking beneath her gave way to the ear-splitting shriek of alien wheels grinding against asphalt. A burst of light and the noisy sensation of the Autobot opening around her preceded the stark realization that there was cold, night air hitting her face. Her world tilted as everything spun, then a massive whoomph of electricity cracked the air molecules around her. Allison only had the cognitive clarity to realize the ground was rushing up to meet her before there was pain.
/
AN: Just noticed my formatting has been taking a dump.
