27Jee, I wonder why all these views suddenly started pouring in for this fic. :D
Too bad I'm about to disappoint you with such a poopy chapter. But, I'd written and re-written Chapter 6 enough times to have re-typed War and Peace and was absolutely struggling with it. So I took a month off, wrote some fun and satisfying smut (should've kept my money on Wheeljack), read a lot of great fics, and got inspired again when the canon came right out with a WheeljackxArcee nudge-nudge, hint-hint, wink-wink that just made me squeal. But, I still found it a chore to write when I came back, so I tied up all the loose ends as painlessly as I could in so I can get back to the fun writing.
I'll try to get Chapter 7 up fast to make it up to you. Hopefully, I'll have it done before Friday in case they throw another curve ball at us. Somehow, I sense another Cliffjumper flashback that's going to reset everything we know and love.
As always, all reviews are welcomed and appreciated.
"Arcee? Arcee! Can you hear me?"
'Ratchet?'
She thought she turned her optics on and looked at him, but the medic didn't seem to notice when he pressed her brow back to shine a light into them. She tried to say something, but her body couldn't move. It only came out as a voice in her processor.
"Oh Primus, please …" Ratchet whispered, spraying sterile cleanser in her abdomen. "Get back!" he snapped at someone beyond her range of vision. "Let her ventilate!"
He looked like slag. Had he been fighting? Who? Hopefully, he'd won.
He shook his helm in frustration and returned to her exposed circuitry and fuel lines grimacing at what the cleanser had revealed.
"No. No, no, no …" he sobbed.
'It's alright, Ratchet,' she said in her mind, wishing she could comfort him. 'Do what you can.'
She felt his steady hands inside her, but it didn't hurt like she expected. His voice calling to her to stay with him, grew dull and quiet. Arcee saw him summon his welding torch again and lean over her. Wiring was shifted back into place, but it all felt like a dream within a dream.
"… Arcee!" Ratchet shouted from far away. He took her helm in his gentle fingertips again and met her optics. For a second, she was convinced he saw her awake, but she saw energon tears in his blue optics. It occurred to her that she could see the overhead light through his face, like he was fading.
A fast but constant beep she'd not registered until now fell into a single steady tone. Then, even it faded and all that was left was her and the light over her.
'Ratchet?'
But, she was alone. Only darkness stretched out on all sides of her. Was this what it was like joining the Well? But, the light seemed to be shrinking. That didn't seem right.
She heard footsteps approaching in what sounded like a large empty room, and someone solid stood over her, silhouetted against the harsh brightness.
"Hey there, Beautiful," a familiar voice smiled. "You get lost?"
Arcee felt a hand take hers, and the shadow shifted to sit on her berth, bringing it into his lap. Now, she recognized the blue and white armor, and it made her spark ache.
'Tailgate,' her processor echoed.
The mech smiled and brought his other hand to her cheek. She felt tears sting her optics at the memory as she touched it with hers and turned her head to kiss his palm.
'I'm sorry …' she began, but Tailgate shook his head, stilling her lips with his thumb.
"Plenty of time for that later," he said, leaning over her. "Right now, we've got to get you back."
She hurt she wanted to kiss him so badly, but as soon as their lips touched, the dream was jolted away from her as her body convulsed with shock.
"Arcee!" Ratchet was over her again. "Stay with me!"
But, as soon as the scene was back it began to slow and fade again.
"Wheeljack! I need you to hold pressure on this," he ordered.
She saw the wrecker come into view and look down at her. He complied obediently, but when he seemed to meet her optics, his usually stoic facade wavered.
"Arcee?" he whispered, glancing up to see what Ratchet was doing. "Come on. You can beat this. I know you can."
"Hold this," Ratchet said, shoving something into Wheeljack's other hand. "You're going to have to …"
But, he sounded too far away to make out anything again. Once more there was only the shrinking light and the growing dark.
"Cee?"
Hands cupped her face from behind her head. Cliffjumper looked down at her and smiled playfully. She choked back tears, but tried to smile for him as he bent closer to let her touch his face. Cliffjumper caught her hand in his and kissed the fingertips. Arcee sobbed, pulling him closer so she could feel his warm energy field and his kisses on her cheeks.
"I almost get the impression you missed me," he teased.
'Every day,' she whispered. 'I miss you every day, Cliff.'
"I told you I was hard to get over," he smiled, but it quickly sobered. "Time to go."
'No!' she protested, turning her face away. 'Please! I don't want to leave you. I'm sorry, Cliff. Please …'
He backed away enough to meet her optics again, his face somber and considering.
"Cee …" he sighed. "I can't let you."
'You can! Just let me stay …'
He glanced up at the shrinking light above them then back at her, shaking his helm. "No." His tone was firm. "You have to live. For Prime, for the team, for the war … for Jack."
'But …'
"I'll be here," he promised. "So will Tailgate. Call it a date."
'I love you,' she rushed to say.
The red mech grimaced painfully. "I know." He nodded and crushed his lips to hers before he could change his mind.
She was jolted back to Ratchet's med bay again, only now it was harsh and bright and every part of her body remembered to hurt at once. Arcee groaned softly.
"Doc, she's back! Arcee, can you hear me?" Wheeljack was over her now, holding her head in his hands. "Arcee!"
"Give her some air," Ratchet ordered, shoving him aside. He pressed his sensors to the wires in her neck. "Thank Primus."
"Does she need more?" Wheeljack said, butting in closer again.
The medic took her hand and squeezed it. "No. She's stable enough to go into stasis and heal."
Arcee winced away from the light he shown in her optics again, but gripped his hand like he wanted. He smiled down at her, and she watched as he took a syringe off of his tray and inserted it into her fuel line.
"I'll bring that 'Con's head back on the end of his prod." The medic looked over his shoulder to where Wheeljack had moved. Now that the fear had passed, he was back to his old self.
"And what good would it do us to save one soldier only to lose another?" Ratchet reasoned.
"Who said anything about losing?"
The medic scowled dangerously and got up to turn and face him.
Scrap. Arcee tried to move, tried to say something, but the medicine was already deadening her coherency. The tension crackled in the two mechs' energy fields like static as they squared off.
"Don't be a fool!" he snapped. "She risked everything to save your sorry aft. Her life, her ability to spark – not just that, either – OUR whole reason for fighting!"
The wrecker's face darkened as he stepped to face the challenger. "Last time I checked, we were fighting to save Cybertron."
"What good is having Cybertron back, if there are no generations after ours to enjoy it?" he demanded. The tension left Wheeljack's features. "Do not cheapen what she almost sacrificed for you."
One week later …
The left stabilizer had been bent and repaired so many times it was a miracle the Jackhammer flew straight. At least, that was his excuse for cutting it off completely. Nothing soothed his frayed circuitry like losing himself in the sparks and sound of an angle grinder and an ion welder. Bulkhead had offered to help him, but he'd insisted on doing it alone so it got done right. It had taken him two days to completely rebuild the fin, and that was after he'd overhauled both thrusters, cleaned the ship from top to bottom, inside and out, recalibrated the targeting system, and stripped and cleaned all of the phasers.
Wheeljack vented a heavy sigh, shutting off the grinder and running his palm over the smoothed weld. He'd done better. Maybe he should cut the panel off and do it over … No. This was ridiculous. He leaned back against the landing gear. When was the last time he'd stayed in one place this long? Primus, not since … well, since Cybertron. It was eating at him. He knew Ratchet would tell him if she pulled through. But, would he tell him if she didn't?
As his audio receptors adjusted, he realized he heard music – a repetitive, pulsing beat that was just barely audible in the quiet of the base. Must be what the humans called Friday night. He hadn't seen Jack's mother here dragging him out of med bay for school the next day. Poor kid. How did a species that lived such short lives form such strong bonds? And, how had one broken through the battle-worn femme's hardened defenses in such a short time? He shook his head at his thoughts and turned back to his project.
"Wheeljack."
He looked back at the sound of Ratchet's voice. He'd avoided the medic since he'd patched up his shoulder. Ratchet had gladly repaid the courtesy until now.
"I need you to … do something. Please."
"Kind of busy here," he pointed out, turning to face him.
"Could you check on Arcee?" he asked, ignoring his terseness.
"What? I thought that was your job. I'm no doctor."
"I realize that," he humphed. "That's partly the reason I need you," he added more humbly.
Wheeljack arched a brow at him, curious, but didn't put down the grinder.
"I've worked on her so many times, she knows my energy field too well. She associates it with … care and treatment. Optimus is her superior officer. Bulkhead and Bumblebee are her teammates. It's just a chance … but … since she won't respond to any of us, maybe yours could … do something."
"Me? She hardly knows me!" he scoffed with disbelief.
"True, but you have … feelings for her. Don't you?"
"Whoa, whoa," Wheeljack interrupted, holding his hands up in mock defense. "I was just giving her a hard time."
"Then why have you stuck around for so long waiting for her to heal?"
"I'm fixing my ship."
Ratchet gave a dry chuckle. "So, you're not attracted to her at all?"
Wheeljact shrugged, feeling caged. "I don't know …"
"You don't know," the medic scoffed disdainfully.
"Well, I … I wouldn't put a bag over her head if she was feeling …"
There wasn't a wrench around, but a mallet made a good enough substitute. The medic moved too quick to dodge.
"Hey! You asked!" he shouted before gingerly fingering the painful dent in his helm.
"Just get in there!" the old bot bit with finality.
Wheeljack didn't want anymore of his tools thrown at him – they only got bigger and sharper after the mallet.
The walls felt like they were shrinking in around him the closer he got to the music. It hurt to see a tough bot like Arcee so weak. That's what was wrong, he told himself. He was dreading seeing her was all. But, a weight seemed to lift off of his spark when he sidestepped past the privacy screens that had been erected around the medical berth. She was healed almost completely now and just appeared to be in a deep recharge.
"Finally decide to pay a visit?" Jack sat on the berth beside the femme's shoulders, a scornful look on his face. He turned off the tablet he'd been reading, setting it in his lap protectively.
"Doctor's orders," he dismissed with a shrug. "He seems to think I might be able to bring her around."
"By annoying her awake?" the human asked, watching as Wheeljack pulled up a crate and sat at the side of the berth facing him.
In the kid's defense, Wheeljack would be pretty slagged off too if his friend almost threw their spark away to save some ungrateful scraplet.
"Something like that," the wrecker said flatly, picking up Arcee's limp hand in his fingertips.
Jack bristled noticeably.
"Cool your engines," the mech advised. "I'll be out of your circuits in a few minutes. But, it'll take longer if I have to do this on the defensive."
Jack sighed and looked back at her placid face, deciding to accept the truce. "Want me to turn off the music?"
"You don't have to. I didn't know she even liked Earth music."
"Yeah well, there's a lot you don't know about her."
Wheeljack ignored the jab, shuttering his optics. It felt uncomfortable opening up his usually well-guarded energy field to what felt like no one. But, he vented a cleansing sigh and focused on his memories and the emotions that had accompanied them regarding the femme before him. The freshest was white-hot anger at Knockout, but he didn't dwell on it. That wasn't why he was here. Instead, he diverted to the much more primal and pure-feeling sense of protectiveness the entire ordeal had stirred up in him. It had been his place to protect her, and he had failed. Regret permeated his emotions for a moment.
The music helped shake it, helped him concentrate again.
He went back further – to her beside him as they fought past the vehicons. The mech felt his hydraulics tighten and hoped Jack didn't notice. He willed himself to not hold back any of the lust he'd felt while he watched her fight. And, when she'd brushed up against him and he'd felt her spark racing with excitement and her own arousal, he'd barely been able to keep his electrodes in check. If it had stopped after the vehicons … if Breakdown and Knockout hadn't shown up … Primus.
He'd wanted her before. It was difficult to think of her before he'd seen her prowess and intelligence or felt the searing wrath of her take-no-slag attitude, but before all that, he'd first laid optics on a sleek and beautiful femme who'd perked up her winglets in interest at the new mech in base. If it'd been anyone else's team but Optimus Prime's, he'd have pulled out all the stops to exploit her curiosity.
The music changed to some screeching guitar and screaming vocals, jarring him out of his concentration and making Jack jump to grab up his cellphone.
"Sorry," he grumbled. "Miko got a hold of it a while back. I'm still weeding them out."
The wrecker shook his head. "It's alright. I'm not helping anything anyway," Wheeljack dismissed. He gently put Arcee's hand back under the thermal blanket. "Probably scaring her deeper into stasis."
"No. Please," Jack said, getting to his feet to face him more levelly. "Keep trying. It feels different from the others'."
"What does?"
"Your … energy … field – thing."
Wheeljack felt his faceplate heat. "I didn't know humans could … feel them."
"Not all humans, I'm sure. It's just us three, and it's only when you guys are being real open about it – like when Ratchet doesn't want anyone bothering him. Or, when Arcee used to get super angry at us."
The mech nodded, smirking. "So, Doc's had everyone in here trying this. My dirty old processor was just the last resort."
"Whatever the reason, it might work," Jack pleaded. Wheeljack eyed him skeptically, but a thought occurred to him.
"Because it doesn't feel the same as the other bots'."
"Right. Optimus and the rest all felt like … how my skin sort of prickles when a storm's coming. Yours is stronger – like a … like a train. One of the big diesel-electric ones. There's no sound, but I can still feel it in my guts and the hair on the back of my neck. Like standing beside one while it's powering up from idle to start moving."
Well, Wheeljack was definitely done revving his train up while Jack was watching.
"Maybe later. I can't concentrate now."
Jack slumped, looking back at his guardian.
"She'll come out of it, Jack," he assured, moving a hand to pat his back but reconsidering. "Arcee's made of stronger stuff than a lot of mechs I've fought with, and that's saying something."
He didn't doubt what he said. The question was if her matrix would heal and she'd wake up in Jack's fleeting lifetime. He didn't want to think about that.
"You said Arcee read that before?"
Jack turned the tablet over in his hands. He'd forgotten he had been holding it.
"Lots of times," he shrugged. "She liked it … likes it … more when I read for her." He smiled a little. "She said you guys either read too fast or you just download the whole thing in one go, so a good book isn't the same experience. Not really much use for fiction on Cybertron if that's the case. But, if I read it slow – at the speed of the action – she got it."
Wheeljack looked up, Googling the concept over the data net. Admittedly, he didn't really get it either.
"Well, let's try this," he offered. "I'll leave my field open, and you read. Maybe if she feels what I'm feeling from it while listening to you …"
Jack nodded. "Sure. Maybe." His excitement made the mech feel guilty, but he settled back in, taking her hand once more.
"No looking up the ending though. That ruins it."
"Fine. Fine."
It turned out that was harder said than done. Less than a chapter in, he was impatient to know what happened. If Wheeljack had simply downloaded the book, he would've instantly had the satisfaction of knowing its beginning, middle, and end. But, it would've been as pointless as an inaccurate history file.
Even coming into the story late, he understood why Arcee liked the book. It was about a group of elderly humans at the end of their useful lives who volunteered to have their consciousness transferred to new bodies with super speed, strength, endurance, and dexterity. They became part of an intergalactic military defending the human colonies from aliens. Entertaining as all that was from the viewpoint of a species that was barely in its infancy of space exploration, the protagonist found out that his dead mate's DNA was used to make a super super soldier and was given a clean start with no memory of him, and he accidentally runs into her on the black opps team.
It was fascinating to the point the wrecker kept Jack up until 4am when his voice began to give out.
"Sorry, kid," he smiled. "Want me to take you home so you can power down?"
Jack got to his feet and stretched. "Thanks, but I'll just crash on the couch," he yawned. "Just in case anything changes."
"Try again tomorrow."
"Sure thing."
He watched him go and got to his feet, looking down at Arcee again.
"Don't make a liar out of me," he warned her. "He needs you to wake up." He put her hand back under the blanket and paused for thought. "So do I," he added more quietly. "I owe you a lot – a thank you, for starters. Maybe an apology. And, a whole lot more after that."