WHEELJACK

This was good. Only two more cycles until Wheeljack was able to achieve full activation…

…. So why did Starscream feel tinges of anticipation begin to curl through his lines? He wasn’t one to become overly nervous, unless he felt his Spark threatened — of which this case was not in the least bit life-threatening. And Wheeljack was his friend. He’d said so himself.

In any case, it would be up to him and a somewhat trusted medic to oversee the revival of his friend, the return of someone he could trust back into his life.

Two more cycles.

After the aforementioned malfunctions, the message received from the depths of the medical wards was almost startling.

But, surely it was merely coincidence. There was no way Wheeljack could have—… Could he?

No, Starscream reassured himself. It was not possible.

Wheeljack would be walking beside him soon enough. All he required was patience, and not much more at that.

To no one, he said: “Good, good. Keep up the good work.”

Starscream was not one to be idle; even with the many calamities of the day, he found himself in motion within the privacy of his own arena.

On this cycle, his movement brought him past the tank that contained his mangled friend. His only friend, were he honest. Starscream had difficulties making friends… and then maintaining said friendships without detrimental effects on the other. Namely death, but who was counting?

Starscream wasn’t.

The Seeker glanced at the readings beneath the medical prison, a small sigh escaping him. It would only be a matter of time until Wheeljack would emerge… But he could not help but feel a slight eagerness upon the idea of having his friend back.

"You’ll be back amongst the living soon, Wheeljack. I’m making sure of it."

His optics traced the upward path of an air pocket until he again caught sight of Wheeljack’s mangled form, though less so than he had been before.

Focusing was an impossible task.

Just as an idea would begin to form, it slipped away to be forgotten. It did not bother him much, or perhaps he'd forgotten it had. He was there and he was not. The two states of being flowed flawlessly from one to the other, completely out of his control.This too did not bother him.

engineerwheeljack started following you

Had Wheeljack not been in a regeneration pod to repair, or if Optimus knew that his old comrade was even in the situation, then perhaps the old Prime would descend back onto the surface and at least pay his respects to his friend.

The color of the Aurora depends on the altitude and the atom being struck by solar radiation (causing excitation). At higher altitudes, there is more Atomic Oxygen than Nitrogen, leading to the common color stratifications you see.

500-200 km altitude — Atomic Oxygen — Red 200-100 km — Atomic Oxygen — Greenish-Yellow — Ionized Nitrogen — Blue/Purple 100-80 km — Nitrogen (N2) — Crimson

Oxygen only emits red at higher altitudes because once it’s excited, it takes a longer time to emit red than it does green. Why is that important? Well, at lower altitudes there is more Nitrogen for the Oxygen to bump into and absorb that excitation-energy before it gets a chance to emit red light. In this case, where the collision occurs, the Oxygen will emit Green and at low enough altitudes the Nitrogen-Oxygen collisions eventually prevent Oxygen from emitting any light at all.

During stronger storms, high energy solar particles will reach lower in the atmosphere and cause the Crimson emission from Nitrogen, creating a deep-red band at the lower edge of the aurora. Other elements emit light too, like Hydrogen (Blue) or Helium (Purple) which are at higher altitudes.

RiD Wheeljack appreciation post

And yes, he wasn’t too keen on talking about the other. It brought back memories and flashes of unpleasant experiences Jazz never wished to remember; only Wheeljack knew a little about them. It was his mate he was talking to, the mech he trusted with his life, and even then he was a tad insecure. Still, Jazz spoke slowly, gradually growing more confident in his words.

”I… I think I mentioned this once, but I wasn’t too eloquent… I dunno if ya remember —heck, don’t even know if Prime managed t’ keep this from the ranks ‘r not— but there was this one time the ‘Cons snagged me in the middle of a infiltration. Th’ guys that caught me were -guess who- the Combaticons an’ of course, Vortex was up to interrogate me and jus’ get ‘s much info ‘bout my operation as possible: what I was doin’ there, what my objective was…

"I said nothin’, kept my vocalizers quiet. That was when, instead of jus’ pluggin’ me into somethin’ to get the info they wanted, they decided to ‘ave fun with me.” His voice faltered the slightest moment. ”Th-the torture went on fer a while. Y’ might be wonderin’ where the Autobots were and if they were lookin’ for me, but they couldn’t find me till I got out. An’ get out I did, when my processor was messed up enough… I went crazy, Jack: managed t’ get outta there with the use of my skills an’ brute force combined. I think that’s when it ‘appened, when I realized that somethin’ —or rather, someone had taken up a space in my mind. Processor damage was never fully repaired fer one reason or another… so he’s been there, pokin’ around every once in a while. Dunno why he waited till now to start messing about.”

He just didn't know and it was the not knowing that made him want to help more. All he could do was do his best. He would be there for Jazz in every way he possibly could as this folded out.

The mention of the Combaticons brought another wave of disquiet over him. He hadn't known about that incident at all. If it had leaked into the ranks, it had never reached the sequestered labs where he worked. Back then, he'd rarely ever left beyond getting fuel or recharge. He and Jazz hadn't known each other well at the time, but it still caused a pang of guilt to know he'd suffered and he hadn't even known about it.

As Jazz fell silent, he continued to rub at his back, taking a moment to really think over what had been said. He could not be entirely sure of what his other half's motives were, but if there was anything he was sure of... it was that he was going protect his mate. Determination and reassurance flowed from his end of the bond, wrapping the saboteur in a metaphorical blanket of warmth.

With that semi-calm demeanor, he pressed a loving kiss to his mate’s lips. It was sparkfelt apology, and the protective way that his hold tightened around Wheeljack was proof enough of this as well: the embrace was warm and protective, the same emotions and feelings rolling off his end of the bond.

”Jack, I dunno if I should… ‘m not sure ‘bout trusting him anyways.” The saboteur left a peck between Wheeljack’s optics. ”After all the hurt we —you an’ I— have gone through, I can’t take the risk of trustin’ him… I dunno if he’ll hurt you and I’d rather not wait ‘n see if he does. I can’t lose you, Wheeljack; I can’t even stand the idea of seein’ you hurt. ‘m just…”

"I know... I understand, I just..." he trailed off for a moment before picking back up. "You know how I am, Jazz. I always have to try to help. This is a part of you we're talking about. It's there, whether you want it to be or not. Running away doesn't make things better. Maybe it'll protect me, but you'll still be suffering from the fear and uncertainty of what ifs and maybes.  You don't want to see me hurt, but I don't want to see you hurting either."

He hugged the saboteur tightly for a moment before tugging him toward the loft. "Come on, let's go up and bury ourselves under the blankets. Hide away from the world for a while?" Wheeljack let his mate climb up first, before following after him. He grabbed the biggest, most comfortable blanket they had and threw it over them, pulling his mate close as they settled.

All this rambling had taken place with Jazz hiding his faceplate into Wheeljack’s shoulder and even afterwards, the saboteur didn’t look up. He was chastising and getting mad at himself because of how badly he was taking this whole thing, but it was his mate he had almost hurt. It was the one thing Jazz would not be able to forgive himself for: failing to protect Wheeljack was the thing Jazz was most afraid of, and it showed in moments like this one. Finally, Jazz’s optics met his mate’s.

"Jazz..." he finally replied several moments after his mate's request. Leave? Just... run away and leave Jazz when he needed him most? It was that very reaction from others that had driven Wheeljack to try to help him in the first place. No one else had tried and it was that very act that had led them through everything to where they were now. He did not turn and run then. He would not do so now.

He knew his mate, too. The saboteur would blame himself no matter who was hurt. Maybe it was just luck on his part, or maybe it was something more, but of all the times his darker half had come out with him around, he'd never really been hurt. There had been threats, and he had been roughed up a few times. He wasn't sure if it had been anyone else it would have gone so well. If his being there worked to distract him, to somehow temper that violence...

"You know I can't do that... I know you want me to, and maybe I should or maybe I'm just crazy, I don't know... Do you remember the first time this happened? I couldn't leave you then, and now? I could never..." He took his mate's face in his servos, optics imploring him to hear him out and understand. "You've dealt with so much by yourself for so long, Jazz. You don't have to anymore. You're not alone. We're in this together, not just for the happy times."

After a while, Jazz left a kiss on Wheeljack’s cheekplate, suddenly unable to look his mate in the optic. He was ashamed, still being gnawed at by regret. He hung his helm and leaned it against his mate’s shoulder again.

He smiled at the kiss even though Jazz wasn't looking at him. he knew the silver mech would sense it regardless of where his gaze was. Pressing his own kiss to the top of his helm, he tightened his embrace and rubbed circles into his back.