Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No plan survives contact with the enemy, right? That, and the universe appeared to have a fascination with making life hard for the good guys. Those were the thoughts pestering Jack Darby as he traversed the tunnel going deep into the bowels of the alien city. There he and Arcee were, on Cybertron, on an already high-risk mission to recover Optimus Prime’s lost memories. 

But God must have thought the stakes were not high enough. Which was why a big and bulky bug-like Decepticon - Insecticon, according to his partner - invited itself to stand in their way. Arcee was left to try to fight it. And yes, ‘try’ was emphasized. Truth was, all she could do was stall for time. Time that Jack took to reach the end of the tunnel.

The massive doors before him opened, revealing the path ended in an even grander chamber, filled with darkness.

“I’m in.” he spoke through a communicator in his suite.

“Sweet!” he heard Miko from the other end. Glad to know someone was keeping morale up.

Once inside, he looked back at the metal key-card like device that glowed in his hand. There was a platform with the shape of the key, only much larger. Going by basic logic, Jack introduced the key into the slot. Just like any Cybertronian, the whole structure began to transform. The key became supersized, fit to be used by an actual Prime. The platform began to rise in an angle until it stood vertically. Jack was quick to slide out of it before he fell. It wouldn’t do at all if he broke his suit, lest the supposedly deadly air got in.

Behind the now vertical platform, an enormous orb - even by Cybertornian standards - made of brilliant, immaterial light rose up. It pulsed and shimmered like something alive.

“This is just…wow!” in the back of his mind, he realized that was such a lame description. Then again, he doubted he could think of any better one.

Veins of light surrounded the key. Vector Sigma was infusing it. “Commencing download…I think.”

“You are…BZZZT…collect…BZZZT.”

“Ratchet? The signal is breaking up. Come in.”

No response. The signal went completely dead. He tried to raise Arcee to no avail. He was on his own, completely. Alone, on a dead alien world, with an immeasurable responsibility on his shoulders. He took a calming breath. Panicking won’t help. The download was underway. All he could do now was wai…

::Welcome, =-\|-=/_= of Tetrahex.::

“Who’s there?!”

::Just us.::

That voice. It sounded just like… “Mom?!”

::No and yes.::

He turned around, finding no interloper. “Where are you? Who are you?”

::I am who I have always been and who I will ever become. I was there when Cybertron was young. I am Vector Sigma.::

He turned to the source of light, eyes wide. “You’re alive!?”

::No and yes.::

“Why do you sound like my mom?” it did sound like her, albeit with a monotonous tone.

::I do not communicate through vocal means in terms that you can understand. But when I do, any who hears my ‘voice’ will instead interpreted as the figure that holds the most sway in your spark.::

To say it was weird, even creepy, would be an understatement, but Vector Sigma wasn't finished.

::Know this: only a worthy Prime may access Vector Sigma. You, =-\|-=/_= of Tetrahex, are no Prime. Yet the Key was willingly entrusted to you by a true Prime.Therefore, with that Prime’s blessing, Vector Sigma is at your disposal.::

Jack nodded, uncertain. His attempt to contact Ratchet for instruction was fruitless, again. "Scrap." He looked back to the giant orb of light and the panel holding the key. "Guess it has to be me. Here's to hoping I don't screw this up."

He raised his voice. "Uh…okay so, Optimus Prime used the Matrix of Leadership against Unicron and was left amnesiac in the process. I need you to download his memories into the key so we can restore the Matrix and his memories.”

::Clarification request: do you mean Optimus Prime I or Optimus Prime II.::

Hold that phone!. "There are two?”

The supercomputer replied as if it hadn't unleashed a massive bombshell of information. ::Affirmative. Optimus Prime I was the youngest of the thirteen original Primes, whose name has been forgotten by history. Optimus Prime II was originally the archivist Orion Pax.::

“The second one! The leader of the Autobots.”

::Understood. Commencing download.::

The veins of blue light that centered at the key pulsed; the transfer had started. "So the download is only starting now . Great." He muttered, frustrated for having taken so long to just begin. Every second was precious.

Seconds turned into minutes. He found himself pacing impatiently from one side to the other. Occasionally stealing a glance at the key only to find it still loading. Irritated, the human kicked a pebble on the ground far away. He resigned himself to sit on the ground and attempt to contact Arcee or base. No response.

His gaze traveled back to the loading key and the pulsating orb of light behind it, which he assumed was Vector Sigma's…processor or whatever.

"Say, Vector Sigma, will talking to you slow the download?"

::Negative.::

"So, how long is this gonna take?"

::Eleven microcycles.::

"And, how long is that in human time?"

::Calculating: approximately 6 minutes and 35 seconds.::

Okay, so he wouldn't have to wait too long. He just hoped this 6 and a half minutes wouldn't be too long for the team holding the spacebridge. Once again he tried to contact anyone with no success.

"Why can't I contact anyone?"

::My processing power is destabilizing communication with the outside world. Apologies but it is inevitable, =-\|-=/_= of Tetrahex.::

Jack sighed. If he couldn't talk with anyone else, then he might as well speak to the computer.  "Why do you call me … something of Tetrahex?"

Whatever '=-\|-=/_= ' sound was, it was something his human vocal cords couldn't replicate. Jack deduced it was a term in Cybertronian.

::Vector Sigma recognizes your spark as that of =-\|-=/_= of Tetrahex.::

"My spark? You think I'm…" he chuckled humorlessly. "Listen, I'm no Cybertronian, so…"

::Correct. Currently, you occupy the life of an organic sentient, a homo sapiens, as determined by the Alternative to safeguard the AllSpark. Regardless the physical makeup of your current husk, your spark signature is that of =-\|-=/_= of Tetrahex.::

"Allspark?" Arcee and Optimus occasionally mentioned the AllSpark. To Jack it sounded like they were talking about Heaven or the Afterlife. When he voiced the comparison, Arcee said it wasn't quite the same. "The AllSpark is like…the limbo where Cybertronian souls go when they die. Before they are reincarnated."

::Inaccurate. The AllSpark is the repositorium from which all life on Cybertron emerged and ultimately used to return to.::

To Jack, it sounded exactly as he said it. Except…" Used to return? What does that mean?"

::In the midst of the War for Cybertron, Optimus Prime II ejected the AllSpark from Cybertron in a misguided attempt to protect it from the Deceptions.::

"Misguided? But Optimus probably wanted to prevent Megatron from taking it. If this Allspark can create Cybertronian life, the Deceptions would do anything to grab it for power."

::Factions are irrelevant to Vector Sigma, for I exist for the entire Cybertronian race.::

That didn't sit well with Jack. The difference between Bots and Cons was quite significant. As Ratchet had put it, being one or the other was a question of choice. Such a choice was anything but 'irrelevant'. "Whatever. Optimus did what he thought was best."

::His action, however, carried consequences he was unaware of.::

"What consequences?"

::The AllSpark and Cybertron share a symbiotic relationship. The planet cannot generate life without the AllSpark. And without its planet host, the AllSpark has become disconnected from the Cybertronian race.::

"And what does that imply 'disconnected'?"

::By being cut off, any spark that perishes will be unable to return to the AllSpark. Instead it would be snuffed out and vanish for eternity.::

It took a moment for that revelation to impact Jack. In her mournful moments, Arced took comfort that she would see her old partners again, some day. Jack himself was never religious, nor did he ever care to ponder if Heaven or Hell were real. But the Bots believed firmly in their version of the afterlife. And now he just learnt Cliffjumper and many others were gone for good. Technically by Optimus' doing!

Jack was so lost in those dreadful thoughts he almost missed what the supercomputer said next. ::However, the Lost Sparks found a temporary repositorium - the Alternative.::

He was more invested in the exchange now that it concerned the Autobots. "What is the Alternative?"

::An infant species called 'Humans'.::

Puzzlement. "Us?"

::Your species is the Alternative. The Lost Sparks that perished in the conflict found a refuge in the collective spirit of your race.::

Jack didn't have to ask what that implied. An unbelievable thought formed in his brain. "Hold on…are you saying that Autobots and Deceptions who died in the war…are being reincarnated as humans?!"

::Correct. Since the moment the AllSpark was separated from the core of Cybertron, when a Cybertornian perished, their Spark was reborn as a human. And when that human perished due to their insignificant lifespan, that same Spark would reincarnate in another human frame.::

Stunned silence .

“Are you for real? Is all of that true?”

::Affirmative. Vector Sigma never errors. Vector Sigma never lies.::

“Unreal.” once the awestruckness simmered down, he felt a little relieved. At least, Cliffjumper had the opportunity for a new, hopefully better life. As did other Autobots who lived their last moments surrounded by war and…

Oh, scrap!

“Wait, you’re saying that, right now, there could be thousands, even millions of humans who are reborn Autobots…and Decepticons?!" All the positive feelings over the discovery were replaced by dread. "Scrap, this is bad! If there are Decepticons back from the dead that look like humans, they could rejoin Megatron…”

::Negative. Memories are erased from the individual Spark upon death process.::

Jack was skeptical. “Are you absolutely sure that they can't remember their past lives? What if there are humans conspiring with the ‘Cons, right now?”

::If such scenario was possible, you, Jackson Darby, would know.::

“Why?”

::Because you are one of such Lost Sparks. Before your Spark migrated into a human shell, you were =-\|-=/_=. Or, in this language, Cyclonus of Tetrahex, a Decepticon.::

Jack blinked. And then laughed. His was a mirthless chuckle, a lie when someone hears a bad joke and laughs because of how bad the joke is.

"Are you serious? Me, a 'Con?"

::Affirmative. Vector Sigma never errors. Vector Sigma never lies.::

The humor completely evaporated. Having experienced terror at the hands of the Deceptions, Airachnid chief among them, being branded one was revolting.

"I don't believe in any of that reincarnation scrap. And I'd never follow Megatron!"

::Fascinating.:: for the first time, the emotionless voice spoke with outright interest.

"What?"

::It is fascinating how you sentient beings insist on dividing yourselves based on beliefs, social strata and factions. That is something Vector Sigma cannot comprehend. Vector Sigma is unaffiliated with either Deceptions or Autobots.::

Jack remembers what Ratchet said about being Autobot or Deception was a matter of choice. " What kind of choice could have moved him to join up Megatron's gang of thugs and terrorists ?" He thought. However, Ratchet also disclosed that in the beginning, Megatron promised freedom and equality for all. Whether or not the warlord was lying even then or  changed ways as he went along, the medic wasn't clear. Was this Cyclonus a believer in those early principles that Megatron spoke of? Or was he another warmonger?

"Can you show me who Cyclonus was?"

::Negative. However, it is possible that contact with the AllSpark may assist in resurfacing strong emotions or core memories from previous lives.::

"Well, you said the AllSpark is no longer here, so that's still a no." 

::Nevertheless, there remains a residual presence of the AllSpark in the core. The protocol in display functions as a conduit to the residue.:: a small orb of light, the size of an egg, presented itself before Jack. He eyed it with wariness.

"What am I supposed to do, exactly?"

::Touch the orb. There is a calculated chance you might regain your lost memories as Cyclonus of Tetrahex.::

Yeah, sure. Touch something a shady AI offered under some make-believe theory that he was a Deception in a previous life. That's something Miko would do. On the other hand, today he had done things no other human had done before. Curiosity and a touch of daringness won out, in the end.

He touched it and for a moment he wasn't Jack Darby.

"MEGATRONUS! MEGATRONUS! MEGATRONUS!"

"I had a revelation, Tailgate…"

“All hail Megatron!”

“I wanted to serve something greater than myself.”

"Cybertronian by birth. Decepticon by choice."

“Betrayer!”

Contact was broken and he became Jack Darby again. He fell on his back, panting as if he had ran a marathon. Disconnected words bumbled out of his mouth, incapable of describing or even comprehending what he had seen, heard, touched and felt.

Vector Sigma brought his focus back on track. ::Download of Optimus Prime II’s memories is complete. Do you wish to download the AllSpark protocol into the key, as well?::

Jack looked haunted and shaken to the core, but his declaration was without hesitance. "Will that interfere with Prime's memories?"

::Negative.::

"Do it."

The second download was instantaneous. As if on cue, Archer came speeding in. She looked worse for wear, no doubt after struggling with the Insecticon.

"Arcee, are you okay?"

She assured him with a small smile. "I'll live. Some scraplets joined the dance. I convinced them to go for the bug as an entree while I got away. You have the matrix?"

He showed her the fully charged key. "Let's get our Prime back."

Chapter Text

Pits of Kaon.

A long time ago.

Jack had to raise his voice to be heard over the bellows of the crowd. “Come along, Tailgate. It’s starting.”

His companion, Tailgate, was a Cybertronian somewhat smaller than himself, clad in the gray and blue frame. A peculiar feature of his was a pair of horns on the sides of his helm. He was a rather young one, barely passed his protoform phase. Since his days as a sparkling, Jack had been his guardian until he could fend for himself.

“Never saw you this excited about these matches.” Tailgate sounded like he would rather be somewhere else.

“I don't see why you are so displeased. You love the tournaments back in Tetrahex.”

The smaller bot retorted. “Yeah, but these are the Pits of Kaon. These matches are illegal. We could get in real trouble.”

The roar of the crowd increased in volume, cutting the discussion prematurely. It was starting. The crowd stood on the bleachers, optics fixated on the arena below. A platform rose in the center of it all, carrying a clutch of mechs, all arrayed in a circle with their backs to the center, armed and ready for battle.

“I thought these matches were one-on-one.” Tailgate said.

“See that bot?” Jack pointed to a mech in gray armor, whose helm kind of resembled a bucket. “That's the champion of this arena. He has won so many matches that they organized this team vs team battle.”

The opposing team, which came from another arena, made their entrance. They looked equally brutish and primed for a fight as did the home team.

The bell rang and the team battle began. At first the two teams seemed evenly matched, but slowly the home team began to take the advantage. It wasn't difficult to see why; the home team functioned with coordination! Whereas the opposition was every mech for himself, the home team followed the orders of a single mech, the champion.

Victory was quick to come for the home team, as the champion took the final kill. The crowd went wild and showered praises upon the victors.

“That ended quickly.” Tailgate commented dryly.

But Jack was in awe. “That was leadership, Tailgate. The home team followed the champion’s orders. They respect and look up to him. That's…”

“KAON, HEAR ME!” the thunderous shout eclipsed and silenced the crowd, who looked in suspense at the champion. “Until now, I fought in front of you. But onwards, I will fight for you!

“You have all come here, from Kaon, Tarn, Vos and so many far places. Because you feel contempt. Disgruntled against those who tell you what you should be. Those who lavish in luxury and energon produced from your labor.

“But no more, I say! NO MORE! Long ago, I was born a nameless miner. Today, I am a champion. I am Megatronus!”

The crowds exclaimed in a miriad of disbelief, fear and amazement. This lowly miner-turned-gladiator had the audacity to claim to be the most dreaded and infamous of the 13 original Primes, whose very name was taboo!

“...and these are my followers: my Decepticons! And today, I take an oath before you all that as long as energon flows through my veins, I will fight for the day when all Cybertronians are equals!”

The champion, now Megatronus, fell silent. Amidst the crowd someone shouted his name. Then another. Then another. And another.

“MEGATRONUS! MEGATRONUS! MEGATRONUS!”

Jack joined the chanting admirers. He had come tonight to see a good spectacle. Instead he saw a legend being born. As he looked down, his gaze caught a reflective surface of polished metal. The image of a Cybertronian stared back at him, with purple-blue armor, red optics and horn-like structures on his helm.

Earth.

Year 2012.

Jackson Darby awoke startled from his dream. His hands rushed for his head, trying to feel for anything out of the ordinary. No horns, just his normal human hair. Relief washed over him and he lied back down on the bed.

The alarm clock said it was 6:12. Way too early to be up, especially on a Saturday morning. But he found himself unable to return to sleep. His throat was dry as Jasper itself and went to get a glass of water from the bathroom.

Once he returned to bed, his gaze fell upon the cause of his dream, placed on the bedside table: the Key to Vector Sigma.

When Optimus Prime was returned to base, memories and Matrix restored, Jack offered to have the Key returned to the Prime. But when he reached out to give it, he hesitated. Optimus, maybe sensing his inner turmoil, declared he would entrust Jack with the Key for a while longer.

Morning picked up the pace. After a quick breakfast, his mom said she would just be needed for a few hours at the hospital. Saturday was Jack’s day off. While he could use some relaxation, his mom firmly reminded him he had homework to do. Which he should have done the previous night rather than going to an alien planet. He promised he would get it after a morning ride. Then Arcee suggested all the way from the garage - seriously how good is her hearing? - he could do his homework at base, to which his mother relented. 

“Thanks a ton for sticking out for me, partner.” He complained once he was journeying with Arcee through the desert landscape of Nevada.

“That's what partners are for.”

The rest of the ride went with minimal conversation. Arcee wasn't much of a conversationalist and Jack wasn't particularly chatty at the moment. He much preferred to get a reprieve from thoughts of memories not of his own. To immerse himself in the journey, the speed…

…the air hitting his frame and running past his wings as he flew over Tetrahex…

“Jack!”

He was startled out of his daydream to find himself losing balance. With a shout, his empty hands flew back to the handlebars before he fell off his partner. Arcee slowed down to the crawl and berated him:

“What was that all about, Jack? You never were for a ‘no-hands’ stunt.” 

“No hands?” when had he removed his hands from the handles?

“Out of nowhere, you started doing that Titanic pose, arms spread in the wind.” there was a pause hauntingly familiar to Jack. His mother would often make such after she caught him misbehaving. The pause was a silent way of saying: ‘explain yourself now, or I’ll do it for you.’. Great, now his partner was picking up mannerisms from his own mother!

“Ugh, sorry. I…just felt like trying it.” that was a poorly built lie. Arcee hummed. Were she bipedal, Jack bet she would frown in disbelief.

“Just don't do it, again. One Miko is more than enough to handle.” Fortunately, she didn’t press the issue and offered to continue the ride. Though she did threaten that if he pulled that stunt again, she would tell his mother. Jack gratefully accepted that.

The next hours passed like a routine. Arcee had duties to perform, including energon scouting. Bumblebee and Bulkhead were likewise engaged outside base. That left Jack, Miko and Raf with only Ratchet for Autobot company. Like Jack, Rafael had brought his homework to base. Miko, on the other hand, had brought nothing but her ipod. She kept trying to goad the boys into indulging in a video game, to which neither agreed. So she settled for listening to loud shriek metal through the earphones - much to the relief of the medic who wanted peace and quiet. Thoughts about algebra homework soon drowned into boredom. That and the nagging curiosity still plaguing him.

Just who was this Cyclonus? Was he really a fan of Megatron? All he had to go with was that wierd dream…and that feeling that overcame him during the ride with Arcee. How could he have these wierd feelings about a ‘Con, a person, he had never met? He felt the Key to Vector Sigma tight in his pocket. Was that Key causing him this paranoia? Or could it be that Vector Sigma was legit; that some humans were Cybertronians reincarnated and he was one of them? If so, then how much of Cyclonus was he?

Unfortunately, he wasn’t on Cybertron anymore. So asking that shady AI was out of the question. The only source of information were the Autobots. At the moment only Ratchet was present. He really wasn’t eager to bother the grumpy medic with out-of-the-blue inquiries but…

“Hey, Ratchet?”

The CMO replied with a typical annoyed grunt. Jack took that as a ‘yes, what now?’ and carried on. No chickening out now.

“You ever heard about a Con named Cyclonus?”

Now Ratchet turned from his monitor, most of his annoyance gave way to a thoughtful look as he searched his memories. “Cyclonus? I think… Yes, I believe I have. He was one of Megatron's loyalists and his first second in command when war broke out. How did you learn about it?”

Scrap! Jack wanted to kick himself for not thinking about that. He didn't want to lie but what was he supposed to say; that Vector Sigma told him he was a Con in a past life? The idea sounded laughable at best, insane at worst. Plus, he wasn't really comfortable with disclosing the truth, just yet. So he lied the most convincingly he could. “I remember some Vehicons chatting and name dropping the guy. Just curious, I guess.”

He let out the breath he was holding when Ratchet appeared to accept the answer. “Well, you'll be hard pressed to know anyone who remembers more about him. Apparently, Cyclonus perished long before the war spiraled out of control.” he paused to collect his thoughts. “Perhaps you should ask Arcee.”

“She knew Cyclonus?”

“No, as far as I am concerned. But Tailgate knew him, I think. He may have disclosed that with her. Now if you are done with spontaneous curiosity, I have my own work to finish.”

And Jack was all the happier for it if the medic was willing to forget the conversation. What he didn't notice was the curious and suspicious looks Raf and Miko gave him, respectively. While the computer whiz shrugged and left it at that, the girl narrowed her glare on Jack.

“Say, I don't recall any Cons talking about a guy called ‘Cyclonus’ or whatever? Or have you been sneaking on missions without me?”

“Maybe I’m just more attentive than you.” He retorted.

Now, Miko’s first instinct was to jab back, but in a rare instance of clairvoyance she held her tongue. “ Oh you are hiding something, Jackrabbit. And I’m gonna find out.”

It took longer than she would have liked, but Miko could be patient if she felt it would pay off. And it did because when Jack excused himself to go to the bathroom, Miko waited another minute before getting up and coming across him. She pretended to collide with him on the side, startling the guy.

“Hey, watch it Miko.”

“Watch yourself, Jacky.” she retorted, teasingly. He ignored her and walked back to the study session. Sure that she was alone, Miko moved to another secluded area of the base and looked over the prize she pickpocketed from her friend. The very object he seemed so obsessed about; the Key to Vector Sigma.

“Okay, let’s see what you got that has Jack so weirded out.” as she said that, the central blue gem in the object glowed and emitted a scanning light. Miko shrieked but didn’t let it go. “Uh, what the scrap?”

::Scan complete. Lost Spark subject identified.::

Now Miko did drop the Key, startled. It continued ’speaking’ as if it hadn’t been dropped on the floor.

::Greetings, |/_=|--/= of Polyhex .::

“The scrap! Who are you?”

::I am who I have always been and who I will ever become. I was there when Cybertron was young. I am Vector Sigma.::

“Vector Sigma?” she approached the talking object cautiously. “Like that supercomputer on Cybertron Jack went to recharge the Matrix? You can, like…talk?”

::Affirmative.::

Miko blinked twice. This was weirder than she ever expected, not weirdly awesome like it was when she met the ‘Bots. No, this was just 100% weird; 0% awesome. And the weirder part was that the voice of the Key was eerily familiar.

“If you’re some super-advanced alien A.I., why do you sound like my dad?”

::I do not communicate through vocal means in terms that you can understand. But when I do, any who hears my ‘voice’ will instead interpreted as the figure that holds the most sway in your Spark.::

She rolled her eyes. “Riiight. You may sound like my dad, but he couldn’t make a robot voice tone to save his life. Also, FYI, I don’t have a Spark. I’m as humans as they come.”

::Not in a physical sense, but you are a Lost Spark. Therefore, you have a Spark in a spiritual matter.::

That only served to confuse Miko further. Lost Sparks and whatever polyhex was could bite it! She was here to get answers, not riddles. “Okay, stop with the obscure infodumping. I wanna know what you did to Jack. He’s been asking weird questions about some dead ‘Con called Cyclone or whatever..”

::Based on a personality profile of Jackson Darby, his desire for information regarding Cyclonus of Tetrahex may stem from the discovery that he is that Lost Spark.::

Miko frowned. So this Key doohickey wasn’t gonna be straightforward with its answers. “Ugh, fine. Just spill out what is a Lost Spark and what does it have to do with Jack.”

At the last moment, Jack didn’t resume his homework and opted to go outside at the top of the base. He was unsure if it was his lack of mood for studying or his pestering curiosity about his arguably past life. The only thing he was certain of was that he wanted to be alone and in silence. Up there, with nothing but the wilderness of Nevada desert for miles, he had that much.

He thought of nothing and just watched the scenery without really seeing it. To lose himself in vague daydreaming. Not to concern about past lives, homework, wars on alien planets or his devotion to the Decepticon cause…

“Ah! Stop it!” He brought his hands to his face, making a loud clapping noise. “Scrap! Not even up here can you leave me alone?”

“If you feel like being alone, I can come back later, boss.” Arcee approached, her expression jesting. How she managed to almost sneak up on him without Jack hearing her footsteps was a small miracle. Then again, the two-wheeler was always stealthy.

“No, it’s fine. I just wanted a moment of silence up here.”

Her gaze became morose as it navigated to the only feature around: a mount of piled up rocks with a metal horn atop of it; Cliffjumper’s grave. She sighed. “Yeah, usually I also come here for the silence…which is kind of ironic.”

He got up. “If you want some privacy…” 

She lifted a hand to stop him. “It’s okay, Jack. In some moments I remind myself Cliff is now with the AllSpark, with everyone else we knew. Finally free from this war.” her sad look turned back to the memorial of her fallen.

He inhaled deeply, a sense of guilt taking over. If Vector Sigma spoke the truth - that every Cybertronian who died after Optimus jettisoned the AllSpark - then Cliffjumper had not returned to it. Instead, he had been reborn soon after death, now living as a human baby somewhere on the world. That was probably the only solace to it.

For just a moment Jack considered revealing that truth to his partner if only to alleviate her still fresh sorrow. She still grieved for Cliffjumper, that much he knew as he knew he was no replacement for him among Team Prime. But would that knowledge bring peace of mind to her? Arcee was calm and collected in most situations; the foremost exception was when her friends and partners were on the line. Would she scour Earth in search of her reborn partner? … Okay, probably not something so reckless. But she would raise questions, wanting to know how he had come to know. Jack would have to spill everything out. Even if he withheld the part about his previous life, he wagered Optimus would put two and two together. After all, the Prime had that much cunning to figure out when someone lied to him.

“He’s in a better place. Hopefully a better life, free from the war.” and he left it at that. Arcee gave him a weird look, likely finding strange the assertiveness of which he spoke. Jack feared she would probe further but instead she sighed.

“That’s not how it works, partner. But that’s a nice thought.” she joined him in silent contemplating of the landscape. It was less than a minute that Jack asked the question bruning within.

“Arcee, you know about a ‘Con named Cyclonus?” the femme was caught as surprised as Ratchet had by the question.

“Well, yes. I never knew him personally but Tailgate did. How did you learn about him?”

Jack forced himself to tell the same lie he told the medic. Arcee also seemed to accept that and divulged what she knew.

“Cyclonus was Tailgate’s guardian - the Cybertronian equivalent of a caretaker parent - he looked after ‘Gate in his youth. Even after he matured, the two remained somewhat close, friends even. Until the war happened.” She sighed and went silent. Jack dared not to interrupt or prod her further. He was already berating himself silently for forcing to speak about her other ill-fated partner.

“The war forced many people apart, to choose sides. Cyclonus was a fanatical believer in Megatron. Whereas Tailgate was swaid to join the Autobots.”

“Swaid?”

She shrugged. “Some other Autobot convinced him to join up. A weird one-eyed blue ‘bot with a cynical attitude. Tailgate becoming an Autobot infuriated Cyclonus, who made it his life mission to capture his former ward. Apparently he took that as a betrayal from ‘Gate.”

Jack made a face, his dislike for this Cyclonus increasing. But Arcee wasn’t done. “Over time he rose through the Deception ranks until he became Megatron’s right-hand ‘Con.”

“What happened to him?” If this Cyclonus was so fiercely loyal to Megatron, how did Starscream get his job?

“He perished like so many others. On a suicide mission to prevent scores of Autobots from escaping the battle at Tiger Pax. Megatron broadcasted an eulogy throughout Cybertron in his name…You okay, Jack?” She stopped seeing her partner becoming unhealthily pale.

Jack took a deep breath to steady himself. “Just fine, partner. No worries.” She replied with a non-believing look. Once again, she took a page from his mother’s book. This time, however, she was pressing the issue.

“Jack, you've been acting all sorts of strange today. First, that ‘no-hands’ stunt that only Miko would have been proud of. Now, you're asking about a random Decepticon you couldn't possibly know.”

It was too much. The revelation that Cyclonus was worse than he feared had sickened him to the point of wishing he had never touched that damn Key! Now his partner was worried about him because of his own curiosity. He wished he could have just forgotten what Vector Sigma said. Just write it off as a fantasy cooked up by some shady AI.

“Arcee, there's something I need to tell you.”

“If it's about girl problems…”

He almost did a double-take. “No! It's … something serious.”

Now she looked really worried. “How serious?”

Jack gathered his resolve. No backing out now. “It's about our trip to Cybertron. Down there, Vector Sigma didn't just download Optimus’ memories. She… it told me things.”

“Things?”

His hand went for his pocket to fish out the Key to Vector Sigma. To his horror there was nothing. Frantically, he searched all other pockets and came up empty.

“I lost it!”

“Lost what?”

“The Key! The Key to Vector Sigma.”

“You lost is?!” Normally, the two-wheeler wouldn't shout like that, but to know her partner lost a relic of Cybertron, entrusted to him by their Prime was cause for shock and disappointment.

“I had it with me right before I came up here!”

“Maybe you left it there.”

“I never took it out of my pocket.” a thought occurred to him. When he came back from the bathroom, could Miko have…

Miko blinked, flabbergasted. “Wait, rewind there! You mean, there’s people here on Earth who are ‘Bots and ‘Cons reincarnated.”

::Affirmative.:: that was the reply from the Key to Vector Sigma in her hand. 

Miko beat her foot on the ground. “That weasel! This is the most awesome thing that happened since the Bots showed up! Why would he keep quiet ab…Hold the phone! You said Jack is a Lost Spark. So that means he is…”

::Indeed. Jack Darby is a Lost Spark of the Decepticon designated as ‘Cyclonus’.::

The silent pause that followed was abruptly ended by laugher. “You gotta be slagging me! Seriously, Jack, a ‘Con?! The most Primy guy I know after the Big O, himself? Get real!”

::Affirmative. Vector Sigma never errors. Vector Sigma never lies.::

“What kind of proof you got?” she brought the Key close to her face, trying to look more intimidating as if it was an interrogation.

::The only evidence that can be provided would be the AllSpark Protocol. It enables a human that is a Lost Spark to experience memories of their Cybertronian lifetime. Warning: the protocol is untested. Jackson Darby briefly activated a downgraded version while on Cybertron. The memory download momentarily made him believe he was still Cyclonus of Tetrahex in this life.::

She aimed an accusing finger at the device “I knew it! You really messed up with Jack’s brain!”

::Negative. The incomplete AllSpark Protocol Jackson Darby was subjected to was instantaneously and caused no psychological damage, |/_=|--/= of Polyhex.::

“Yeah, right. Tell that to the guy who has been moping around all day and asking about dead ‘Cons. Also, stop calling me that.”

::You are a Lost Spark, as well, Miko Nakadai. In your Cybertronian life, you were Whirl of Polyhex. An Autobot Wrecker.::

Miko’s breath was caught in her throat. “What the frag! You are saying I was a Wrecker? For real?”

::Indeed. Vector Sigma never errors. Vector Sigma never lies.::

Miko Nakadai was known to be reckless, to not think things through. But that didn’t mean she was downright stupid. She didn't trust this Vector Sigma if it was screwing with her friend’s mind. But Miko was also impulsive. And her partner, Bulkhead, was a Wrecker; the group of the most badass ‘Bots in the Universe! The thought that she was a just like him, someone big, strong and who never backed down from the bad guys. Everything she ever dreamed of being. It was all too alluring. 

And that impulsiveness and desire to prove herself spoke louder than caution. “So, if I was a Wrecker in my past life and you can restore my memories with your Prime powers, I’d remember who I was?”

::Affirmative.::

That sealed the deal. With some hesitance, Miko uttered. “Show me.”

::Initiating AllSpark Protocol…10%...20%...::

“Miko!” Jack appeared, furious and marching towards her. “You stole the Key!”

Caught red-handed, the girl retorted. “It’s not like you were doing anything with it. Or it was doing anything good to you, Jack. Or do you like ‘Cyclonus’ better, now?”

Jack stopped dead in his tracks. “You know?”

“Yeah, this thing told me everything it told you on your field trip to Cybertron. You mean you actually bought you were a Decepticon in a past life?” she pointed a finger at him.

“That’s not the point! Give me the Key.”

::90%...100%. AllSpark Protocol startin-ERROR!::

In the ensuing struggle, both Jack’s and Miko’s fingers came into contact with the device. Energy spraked from the Key, electrocuting them both into stopping their fight.

::WARNING: Protocol unsuccessfully implanted! Memory data from Lost Sparks partially re-integrated into organic subjects. ERROR! Welcome bac-ERROR, Cyclonus of Tetrahex and Whirl of Polyhex.::

Chapter Text

A long time ago, in the midst of the War for Cybertron…

The skies above the ruins of Crystal City were clogged with smoke, ash and the scent of energon induced fires. Cyclonus soared through the air, his thrusters leaving a trail of fiery exhaust in their wake. 

"AUTOBOT, I’M COMING FOR YOU!” the Decepticon SIC roared, his voice thundering over the sounds of an ending battle, downbelow. His sensors locked onto his target: a blue helicopter. Said target was actually flying towards him rather than away from him.

Whirl! That name brought him nothing but anger.

Cyclonus fired his guns at his enemy, whom easily dodged and flew up to the top of a building. Cyclonus followed suite. Both Autobot and Decepticon changed to bipedal mode and glared each other down.

Whirl was the first to talk, voice oozing mocking glee. “Well, long time no see, Hornhead.” he taunted Cyclonus’ horn-like features. “What’s got your thrusters in a twist? Still pissed I sliced off the legs and arms of your Decepticon buddy and used his torso to play fetch with a horde of scraplets?”

Cyclonus snarled, grip tightening on the hilt of his longsword. “You will pay for that and everything else, today! Now, what have you done to Tailgate?”

Whirl didn’t flinch. “Who? Was that the guy you knew since your protoform days that I shot in both optics and then watched get trampled by Devastator? Or was it the other guy with the mustache? What was his name? Oh, right—I buried him alive in the ruins of Crystal City. Good times.”

“TAILGATE!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the static like a blade. “You swayed him to join your Autobots!”

For a moment, Whirl pretended to think, his voice deliberately slow and obnoxious. “Hmm… Nope! ‘Tailgate’ doesn’t ring a bell. Though I do remember some puny little runt who wouldn’t shut up about his older buddy joining up with the ‘Cons. What did I say to him again?” He laughed, a cruel, grating sound. “Oh yeah! That rings a bell. I suggested he join my team just to shut him up. And guess what? He actually did!”

Cyclonus’ thrusters flared, a wave of raw energon pulsing through his circuits. “You retro-rat infested pile of rust! Tailgate is now an Autobot! He has declared himself my enemy! He will get himself killed because of you!”

Whirl laughed again. “Yeah? Sounds like a you problem. But hey, if your little buddy can’t handle the heat, maybe he wasn’t cut out to join the playground. Maybe you should’ve kept him on a leash, Hornhead.”

That did it for Cyclonus. Already on the verge of a rage attack, he roared like a mad anymal and went in for a killing blow. 

Whirl saw it coming. “I knew I’d get you nice and mad!”

As Cyclonus swung his blade, Whirl squidded to the left, the edge of the sword slicing through empty air. Before Cyclonus could correct his trajectory, Whirl fired his gun at his unprotected back. The blow wasn’t fatal but severely damaged his right wing. Without another moment to waste, Whirl transformed and flew out of his enemy’s reach.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” the Autobot helicopter taunted, shouting to be heard by the fuming Decepticon. “Can’t take off with a crippled wing? Maybe you should stick to the ground, Hornhead. Catch you later. I’ll tell Tailgate you said ‘hi’.”

Cyclonus roared in frustration at the retreating Autobot whom quickly disappeared in the smoky skies. As much as he loathed to admit it, that scraphead played him; lured him to an isolated place and crippled his ability to fly. “I will end you. I will kill you. Somewhere, somewhen. And you will never see me coming. I swear it on the AllSpark.”

Present day.

Outpost Omega-1. Present Day.

::90%...100%. AllSpark Protocol startin-ERROR!::

In the ensuing struggle, both Jack’s and Miko’s fingers came into contact with the device. Energy spraked from the Key, electrocuting them both into stopping their fight.

::WARNING: Protocol unsuccessfully implanted! ERROR: Data stream incomplete. Partial reintegration of Lost Spark memory. Designations: Cyclonus of Tetrahex, Whirl of Polyhex... Welcome bac-ERROR….::

The room fell silent for a moment before the pair awoke from the shock. Jack groaned, his mind foggy and body aching. He blinked hard, trying to gather his bearings. Beside him, Miko stirred and pushed herself upright, rubbing her temples.

“What… the heck just happened?” she muttered, head pounding like she had hit it against a wall. She looked over at Jack, wincing. “Are you okay?”

Jack sat up slowly, groaning, “I think so… my head’s killing me.”

“Join the club.”

For a long moment, they just sat there in the dim light, catching their breath. Then Miko squinted at him, narrowing her eyes. “Okay, spill it. What did you find out? What is all this Lost Spark stuff?” Her tone was sharp, demanding, but Jack hesitated.

“How much did this thing” he indicated the key in his hand. “tell you?”

She crossed her arms, looking him sternly. “Only that when Bots and Cons die, they are reborn as plain old humans. And that you and me are some of those humans, too.”

He sighed in defeat, seeing no way to hide it any longer. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I’ve been having visions and dreams of Cyclonus…of who I used to be.” he said that with such unfamiliarity. The concept of reincarnation was so strange, never truly thought about. 

Miko lowered her gaze, the strangeness of it all catching up with her. She jogged her own memory over what the Key had imparted on her. “That things said that you used to be that Cyclonus guy.  As in Megatron’s old second-in-command. That Cyclonus you asked Ratchet about.”

Jack swallowed hard and nodded stiffly. The shame, disgust and disbelief that he had may have been a Decepticon - a loyalist to Megatron, at that - had pressured him into keeping his mouth shut about this tremendous discovery. A discovery he felt wholeheartedly the Autobots should know about. But alas, he wasn’t strong enough to risk the whole truth coming out…

Entirely unaware of his inner struggle, Miko thoughtlessly. “That thing say I was a ‘Bot and a Wrecker. Some guy name Will…uh, Whirl.”

All the self-loathing and fear vanished from Jack’s soul, replaced by a growing sense of recognition, like what one gets from fractured, half-forgotten memories. Flashes and blurred images came to mind. He saw the blurred images of metal helicopter blades, a sword slicing through the air, firing energy blasts a strange face that appeared to only be…an eye? The recognition gave was to more negative feelings, this time not directed at himself: anger, bitterness and an oath of revenge.

“Miko,” Jack nailed his sight on Miko with intensity. “What did you say that name was?”

Miko seemed lost in thought for a moment, staring down at her hands like they were foreign to her. She completely missed the dead serious look the boy gave her and absentmindedly replied. “Whirl, I think. Some guy named Whirl.”

That name! It brought about all sorts of rage to Jack. His gut twisted with hate, directed at the name that caused it. The old memory returned fully; cornering the one-eyed Autobot, the rage-driven fight, Jack- no, Cyclonus- standing over Whirl, promising to kill him. Hate like he had never felt before burned his every other thought like a summer forest fire.

“TAILGATE! You sayed him to join your Autobots!”

“I will end you. I will kill you. Somewhere, somewhen. And you will never see me coming.”

Other bits of memories came back. Entering a decrepit place that smelled of old engine oil and spoiled energon, the odors of death. Chained up to a wall was the white and cyan blue frame of a deceased mech. Optics offline, a precise stab wound in the chest where the Spark would be, like the perpetrator had surgical know-how how to inflict a sudden death injury.

Tailgate…

Jack’s pulse quickened, fists clenched involuntarily. Hate and rage threatened to overcome him. His eyes narrowed at Miko, who was still dealing with her own inner turmoil. A sharp sting on his clenching fist reminded him he was still holding the Key to Vector Sigma…

“Guys!”

The pair turned, startled, to Rafael. He looked winded, likely having been running around, looking for them.

“Raf? What is it?”

"We’ve got a problem. It's Bee." 

An hour ago, Bumblebee picked up a lone energon signature and proceeded to scout it. Upon arrival, something knocked him into stasis and when he came to, he quickly realized he couldn’t transform into vehicular form. Now all of Team Prime observed with worry and anticipation as they waited for the medic’s verdict.

“Bumblebee can’t transform.” Ratchet said, his voice grim. His instruments scanned the aforementioned scout, lying on a berth. “The stun blast may have fried his T-Cog.”

Raf asked. “What’s a t-cog?”

Jack’s mind snapped at that. T-Cog? That term sounded familiar, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it…

Before anyone could answer, Miko’s voice cut through the air. “It’s the organ that lets them transform,” she spoke matter-of-factly, like going on auto-pilot. All eyes turned to her.

Bulkhead arched an optic ridge. “That’s right. But how did you know that, Miko?”

Miko blinked, suddenly defensive. “I don’t know! It just popped into my head, okay?”

Jack glanced at her, a flicker of recognition crossing his mind. T-cogs… of course! That was…

“By the allspark!” Ratchet exclaimed, having completed the analysis. “Bumblebee's T-Cog isn't damaged. It's missing.”

Everyone was shocked, even the ever-stoic Prime. Raf inquired. “But the Decepticons transform, too. Why would they steal that?”

Ratchet was of the same mind. “Megatron may be known to raise zombies, but he's no ghoul.”

Jack felt something foul inside him, as if them badmouthing Megatron and the Decepticons irked him. “Decepticons are no scavengers.” he spoke without even realizing it, and with more venom than he would have. Arcee turned to him.

“You’d be surprised, Jack. During the final days of the war, there was even a ‘Cons battalion called ‘Scavengers’. Not the strongest nor the brightest, but they were real barbarians. Would cut open dying Autobots on the field to cannibalize their parts.” she crossed her arms and her frame trembled lightly. A mixture of disgust and rage, Jack detected. The whole concept sounded profane to Jack as well, a mixture of cannibalism and organ trafficking.

Bumblebee beeped and whirred, yet this time it wasn’t just garbled noises. Amidst the bleeps and bloops, Jack caught something, two words: ‘voice-box’ and ‘destroyed’.

“Your voice-box was destroyed?!” he blurted out and everyone’s eyes were on him.

Eyebrows raised, Raf questioned. “Since when can you understand Bumblebee?”

Jack rubbed his temples, nervous under the scrutiny. He had spoken without thinking, again. And now his head began to throb. “I don’t know. It was just a few words.”

On the sidelines, Miko shot him a wary look and turned away. “I’m gonna get some air.”

Seeing an escape chance, he followed after her. “Me too.”

“Jack,” Arcee called out. “Are you alright?”

“Just fine, partner. Just need to walk this off.”

Jack had indeed gone outside but Miko just wanted to be alone so she hid into a deep part of the base, a compartment that the Bots couldn't use for being human-sized.

She sat in a corner, wanting nothing more than to forget what was happening outside. She put on some loud music but it wasn't enough. The memory, the very concept of Bee losing a part of his body gnawed at her. Like a hole in her stomach.

She hugged her knees, not knowing what to do. Her hands twitched, fingers flexing restlessly. There was a growing itch in her hands. Feeling strange but bored didn’t help, either. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she had had the foresight of bringing her cellphone to listen to some music. Time passed unnoticed until she reopened her eyes. Everything was and looked the same: the dusty old room, her phone, her pants, her cyan blue pincers…

Pincers…

Pincers?

Pincers!?

With a scream, Miko was startled awake. Panting, the first thing she did was checking her hands. Her human, five-fingered hands. Not those blue pincers that she thought she had as a poor mockery for appendages.

“What the scrap was that?!”

Later, at school…

Unlike what most would believe, Miko didn't find school entirely boring. Some classes were actually totally, or at least partially, enjoyable. Arts classes, definitely. History, some lessons about battles. Chemistry, lab classes could be fun.

At the moment, Miko was in the middle of a chemistry class in the school's laboratory. It could be surprisingly fun to mix chemicals, as long as she didn't mix the wrong one.

The teacher made brief explanations and passing comments as he examined each student's work. Miko actually listened to what the man said; she was reckless, not stupid. It wouldn't look good if she blew herself up for not listening.

She grabbed a petri dish, thumb on one side and all other fingers on the other. The gesture was completely instinctive, done without thinking. Yet the format in which her fingers were arranged, holding the object almost like a pincer was enough to trigger something in her brain.

She was sitting, bound and unable to stand up. “I told you, I didn't do it!” she protested with a male voice that definitely wasn’t her own.

A Bot stood before her, its face unrecognizable and tone mocking “The scans beg to differ. We found your energon residue all over the crime scene.”

Her protests got more frantic. “I'm being framed! You think if I was going to vandalize the personal shuttle of some upper caste big shot, I would leave obvious evidence behind?!”

The accuser shrugged. “Maybe you are as stupid as you look. Now let's review your sentence.”

“I'm innocent!”

The Bot carried on, unsympathetically. He leaned in closer to taunt her. “For the crime of vandalizing private property of a member of the elite class, the penalty is permanent servo-employed empurata.”

A chill went up her spine yet the unknown Cybertronian continued. “It says here you work as a watch-maker. Suppose you will have to find a new job afterwards.” she could see traces of a smirk on his faceplates. In the moment, she saw red and rage overshadowed fear and she headbutted the cretin. He stumbled back but quickly recomposed himself, looking furious.

“Attacking a member of the law-enforcement caste?! Guess losing your hands isn't enough. You just got a second dose of empurata. After it's all done, your face will look as stupid as you are.”

Panic!

Minutes later

Miko’s heart was still racing as she stepped outside the school grounds, still feeling the shock of the unwanted flashback and its consequences. She barely registered the shouts behind her, the mess she’d left behind in the chemistry lab, the teacher’s angry reprimands still echoing in her ears. Her hands tingled from the memory. She flexed them as she walked, half-expecting to see pincers in their place.

When she reached the school courtyard, she felt her breathing slowly steady, a voice cut through her trance.

"Hey."

She blinked, looking up to see Jack standing a few feet away, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. For a moment, Miko just stared, trying to pull herself out of her own head.

"Yo," she finally replied, forcing some levity into her tone. "Where’s Raf?"

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing over his shoulder toward the street. "Ratchet picked him up. Yeah, I found it weird, too.” he nodded when she made a face at that. “My mom can’t come, so we’re just gonna have to walk home. Arcee’s at the garage, though, so she can take us to base."

A simple walk was fine by her. She fell into step beside Jack as they made their way out of the school grounds, trying to focus on his words to ground her.

"Bumblebee’s gotta be feeling rough. First he lost his voice, now his t-cog. Makes me wonder how much a ‘bot can lose before they stop feeling like themselves."

Miko bit the inside of her cheek, the bitterness rising unbidden. She clenched her fists again, rubbing her fingers against her palms. A faint ache pulsed in her hands like a phantom pain.

"Hey," Jack said, his gaze drifting down to her. She was awfully quiet. "What’s wrong?"

Miko quickly stuffed her hands into her pockets, expression hardening. "Nothing."

"Doesn’t look like nothing," he pressed, his voice a little softer, gentler. "You’ve been way too quiet since… y’know." He gestured vaguely, indicating the incident with the Key earlier that day.

Her reply snapped out like a whip."I said it’s nothing, Jack!"

Jack was surprised by the harsh tone and she instantly felt guilt. But it wasn’t enough to forget the nagging pang of rage and helplessness that didn’t belong to her…or did it?

Jack stepped back, giving her a little space. “Okay. Fine.”

Miko took a breath, pushing down the guilt and quickened her pace. The walk until Jack’s home and then subsequent ride to base went uncharacrteristically silent.

Later, back at base.

Miko’s mood worsened when Rafael walked up to her. “Ratchet just decided to donate his t-cog to Bee.”

The medic stood informally, arms behind his back, analyzing Arcee and Bulkhead from head to toe. “Obviously, since I am the other patient involved, I will be unable to perform the surgery. Therefore, one of you must serve as my proxy.”

He eyed the big green heavy-hitter, who didn’t dare to flinch under such scrutiny. “Better at breaking things.” Bulkhead breathed a non-subtle sigh of relief.

“Arcee.” Ratchet made his decision.

“Optimus has steadier hands.” the two-wheeler countered. Beneath her cold, stone-faced façade, she was dreading having to perform such a delicate operation.

“Steady and much too large to be rooting around beneath my hood.” that made clear Ratchet’s decision was final.

Sensing his partner’s discomfort, Jack offered his support. “Arcee, you can do this. You're as steely as they come.”

“On a battlefield, not in an operating theater.” she retorted, not feeling any more confident.

“Same thing. As long as you're behind the knife, not under it.”

At any other time, Miko would have chimed in with a question or opinion about the procedure. Instead, she stood silently on the sidelines, occupied by her thoughts. 

Bulkhead came up to her and whispered. “I really dodged that bullet, uh.” she barely reacted, which worried him. “Miko, you okay?”

“Just fine.” without another word, she left the group to prepare for the operation, not caring about anything else.

“Was it something I said?” the big Bot asked.

Jack had watched that scene with a sideways look. He wagered good money that he knew what was eating his friend. “No. She’s just feeling under the weather. I’ll go talk to her.”

He found her sulking in one of the base’s dim corridors, sitting with her back against the wall, staring down at her trembling hands.

“Miko…” Jack approached cautiously. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

She glanced up at him, her expression hard, eyes narrowed. “Do you know what’s worse than losing your voice or your wheels?”

That caught Jack unprepared. He had expected Miko to be aggressively defensive, try to dodge the subject to avoid talking about how she felt. That was the typical her. If she was so willing to talk…

“Oh, boy it must be really bad.”Jack sighed in the privacy of his thoughts.

“Losing your hands.” she answered her own question. He sat beside her and patiently waited, noticing she would frequently rub her palms together, like she was trying to convince herself they were still there.

Eventually, she carried on, voice low and bitter. “I remember now. Whirl…

(The violent impulse he had felt when hearing that name was overshadowed by his friend’s distress.)

“...was just some guy who loved making watches. But he got accused of a crime he didn’t do…and they mutilated him. Ripped his hands away, replaced them with pincers…and then his face.” My face, she almost said it.

Jack stood there, speechless. He had no idea what to say. She faced him, angry tears peeking out of her eyelids. “Where was the friendly doctor ready to donate a helping hand when I needed it?!”

Jack sighed, feeling utterly useless to help her. Then, they heard the distant sound of an engine revving. They both turned, just in time to see Bumblebee racing off in vehicle mode.

The teens stood up, astonished. The Bot stopped by them and Rafael peeked out through a window. “Bee got his t-cog back and Ratchet fixed it! His wheels are back on.”

“That's great.” Jack struggled to show his relief. Miko was stone-faced.

Bee spoke up and Raf translated. “Bee asks if you want to go for a ride.”

“Pass.” Miko’s tone was bereft of any enthusiasm.

“You go on. Enjoy yourselves.” Jack forced an assertive smile.

The youngest found their reactions lacking, giving them a concerned look. But he went along with Bumblebee and the scout raced out for that promised ride. Miko’s gaze followed him, her expression unreadable. “He got lucky.”

Jack sighed - he lost count how many times he had done that, today - and put a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let's play something on the comms room.”

Miko’s spirit improved just a bit upon hearing that and agreed. Jack took that as a success. He just hoped if they suffered any more flashbacks, they would be more pleasant.

In a few days, when Wheeljack returned to Earth pursuing Dreadwing, Jack's hopes would be smashed.