Chapter Text
A bright light flooded the twilight sky as two unidentifiable objects plummeted towards Earth, bursting into flames. When the clouds washed away the fire did it reveal a dark blue Cybertronian jet with a purple Decepticon insignia, the other a battered gray shuttle following its trail. They twisted through the air in a violent dance, plasma bullets from the shuttle’s cannons skimming the jet’s wing. The Decepticon steered lower to drag the fight closer to the ground; at this rate, he needed to get his enemy out of his ship, lest he perish to one single Autobot.
A town north of the USA began to notice the light show in the sky; it was getting closer. A lone bullet fell towards Earth, shattering the ground on the outskirts of the small town. If someone didn't intervene, their small town was about to be torn apart.
Thousands of miles away, hidden in the Nevada desert, a decommissioned missile silo sat within a tall plateau. Within it stood a group of five Autobots who had arrived on Earth just three years prior. They had acquainted themselves with four human allies—Jack, Miko, Raf, and Agent Fowler—but it wasn’t only friendship that denied them solitude. Unexplained traces of energon led the war to this poor planet which caused the Decepticons to come out of hiding. It was fair to assume that one of the Autobots, Ratchet, was hovering over his computer at that very moment.
The medic perked up at the sound of an unknown signal hitting his dashboard, examining the data quickly. "Optimus," he called out to his leader, "I'm receiving signals on a restricted band. It appears to be coming from two objects rapidly entering Earth's atmosphere."
Optimus Prime, as well as the three other Autobots—Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead—gathered around Ratchet. Optimus' weariness of the information on screen picked at his plating. "Bring up a visual."
Ratchet pressed a few buttons on his console, opening up a satellite view and honing into the point of interest. His plating tensed, shaken by what the live video revealed. "There's a battle, and it's headed straight toward civilization."
Bulkhead jumped up in surprise. "I know that ship."
Optimus turned to Bulkhead. "Can you verify their identity?"
"It's Wheeljack, my old Wrecker buddy. A-at least, I think it is."
Arcee slammed a fist into her palm. "Buddy or not, that town is in the line of fire and I'm not waiting around for it to get destroyed."
Optimus nodded. "Ratchet, lock onto their signal and open the ground bridge."
Ratchet completed his orders, pulling down a lever beside towering metal rings. A blue portal bloomed from the center of the conduit. Ratchet arrived next to the Autobots who stood behind Optimus Prime.
"Autobots, roll out!"
Ratchet was the last to jump through, landing in a forest a few miles from the town’s edge. The grass was lush and soft under his peds compared to the rocky sand he is familiar with. The trees stood high—higher than all the buildings he saw in Jasper. After steadying himself, he flipped open the screen on his arm. A command flickered across the display, connecting to the bridge controls. He pressed the screen with his digit. The portal responded, collapsing behind him.
As the group neared the lowering sky battle, Ratchet took the rear to analyze. The trees hid their frames from prying human eyes, but the trees ended in a narrow, long clearing of towering power lines. One stray blast and the town would be cut from the world.
The blue Decepticon jet flew close enough to the ground to transform, flipping in the air and landing with a thud on the ground. His frame was singed on the edges from the flames that engulfed him on the way down; the ship was no different. It landed dangerously near a poll.
Optimus stopped in his tracks, causing the rest of the Autobots to hold behind him. His gaze hardened at the familiar Decepticon; this was not their first encounter. “Dreadwing,” his servo pointed in command. "Distract them!"
The Autobots nodded, transforming their servos into blasters and rushing in. Ratchet stayed put, kneeling the ground to make himself smaller and keep watch on his teammates. It was the same role he’d always played—watch the others, patch their wounds, and most importantly, keep them alive. In return, he'll be accepted. But what was their approval to a false medic?
Dreadwing was oblivious to the new arrivals, his fury fixed solely to the bot who had appeared from the shuttle.
Ratchet's focus shifted as he examined the Wrecker's entrance; he was a sharp silver color with red and green accents. A bright red Autobot insignia was centered on his chassis. An ally. But as the Wrecker walked forward, an uncanny, murderous twinkle appeared in his optics. A battle mask swiped across his face plate, running and lunging at the Decepticon with a snarling shout.
The two met the ground with a large crash, slamming into each other in a flurry of fists. His team struggled to hit the right target, making the quick decision not to shoot at all. Steam exited Ratchet's intake. What will this skirmish amount to as interstellar war tears our species apart? It is vengeance that drives them, I best believe.
Wheeljack somehow managed to keep Dreadwing pinned despite his smaller size, yanking gear off his hip and jamming it into Dreadwing's mandible. Dreadwing choked as Wheeljack used his weight to shove it downward, his engine growling.
Ratchet's audials pricked up in alarm as he heard beeping, every line in his system freezing. "Grenade!" he screamed.
The Autobots stopped in their tracks, transforming immediately and rushing away from the pair. What kind of Autobot would risk detonating a grenade by their own chassis?
Dreadwing coughed, servos gripping the grenade stuck between his denta. Wheeljack backed up, venting heavily as he transformed into a Cybertronian sports car. His tires kicked up mud as he sped off. The Decepticon finally yanked the grenade out along with a chunk of denta. The beeping got faster. He spent no time hurling it toward Wheeljack who hid himself in the overgrowth.
-KABOOM!-
The yellow flash terrorized Ratchet's optics, causing his vision to forcefully reset. Birds escaped into the sky—what remained of them, anyways. Was this the grand fate of a Wrecker? To blow himself apart in some reckless display? What a predictable tragedy. Ratchet turned his attention to the ignited leaves, opening his arm interface to bring up the emergency number. That fire was going to spread into the town, but Dreadwing would have to be dealt with before humans can be notified.
His teammates fell back to where Ratchet stayed. They transformed into their robot modes. Bulkhead gazed wearily toward the flaming trees. "Jackie…"
Through the fire, Wheeljack burst back into the clearing. Ratchet's gaze followed the silver blur swerving across the grass, dodging plasma bullets from Dreadwing. He wasn't stopping.
The medic flinched as Wheeljack rammed his front end into Dreadwing. The crunch of metal rang out as his grill collapsed inward, a wound he inflicted on himself just to gain the upper servo. Nonetheless, Dreadwing went flying and crashed right into one of the power lines. An audible crack reverberated through his frame. The pole leaned from the force imposed on it, sparks of electricity fluttering over the cables above. The poll settled into a bent position.
Optimus' gaze darted to the leaning poll, then to the flame in the trees. "Everyone! Circle them, now!"
Ratchet and the Autobots nodded, transforming. Their tires made tracks along the ground as they spread into a circle around the fighting pair.
Wheeljack transformed. His front end became his lower legs. They weren't even able to lock in correctly from his crumbled grill. He limped, but pain was irrelevant to him. He transformed his servos into blasters, raising them up before slowly walking toward the downed Decepticon. "Any last words, 'Con?"
Ratchet felt a chill down his undercarriage that carried his tires across the grass. One less spark. Are you happy, Wheeljack?
The Autobots closed in. From the edge of Wheeljack's vision, motion cut his focus. His helm snapped upward, looking around wildly with his blaster in shock. The world beyond his duel may as well not have existed for him up until this moment.
Bulkhead sped forward. "Wheeljack, it's me!"
Wheeljack froze, taking in the recognizable vocalization. The distraction was taken advantage of by the Decepticon, transforming his servo into his blaster. He fired.
Wheeljack yelped as pain exploded in his shoulder pad, falling backwards onto the ground. Bulkhead bellowed in shock, transforming to kneel by his screaming friend. Wheeljack took his shoulder as energon bled through his digits. He gazed up at the green bot with confusion, recalling his mask back into hiding. "Bulkhead?"
The rest of the Autobots transformed. Optimus, Arcee, and Bumblebee held Dreadwing at gunpoint, demanding his leave. Dreadwing pulled his frame up with help from the poll behind him, grunting, not once taking his gaze off the Autobots. His transformation rattled from his damaged systems, taking flight with sputtering thrusters. Blasters were kept up long after Dreadwing was gone.
Wheeljack hissed steam out his pipes as his frame finally responded to his his damage. Pain was so easy to ignore until the threat fueling overdrive started wearing off. The sound made Bulkhead reach out to him, steadying his frame with gentle servos. Wheeljack flinched; the touch of another bot, even one that did not intend harm, made his plating sting. He subconsciously leaned away, rolling himself forward onto the ground to cough energon into the dirt.
Bulkhead cringed. "Ratchet, he needs help."
Ratchet did not rush to start a diagnosis, instead, his vocals spat critically. "This is a friend of yours, Bulk?"
"Wheeljack and I go way back," Bulkhead patted Wheeljack's arm. "Ain't that right, Jackie?"
Wheeljack grunted as he got on all fours, ignoring Bulkhead to focus lifting himself back up. He put a wobbly pede under himself. Bulkhead tried to assist, but was again brushed off. Once upright, Wheeljack glanced at Ratchet. The look in their optics was mutual. Discomfort.
Ratchet tilted up his helm. “Tell me, what makes you any better than the enemy you’re so eager to tear apart?”
Wheeljack didn't expect such a question to be vomited into his face plate. His wings twitched with residual violence. Arcee couldn't help but agree with Ratchet, walking up behind him.
Bulkhead stiffened at the sudden dissonance. "Woah, Ratchet," he waved his servos in front of him. "Let's not start anything here…"
It seemed he was talking to the wrong bot because it was Wheeljack who decided to push. "I’ve bled more for our cause than you’ve ever risked," Wheeljack pointed out Ratchet's medical decals.
Ratchet's plating bristled. "Puh. You think you're the only one that has sacrificed? Don't insult me."
Bumblebee looked back and fourth, shuffling back from the rising tension. Arcee, although not afraid, stepped next to Bee to hold him. Optimus placed a servo on Ratchet's shoulder pad.
"You sacrifice nothing," Wheeljack said, "everyone else takes the hits for you, and even then we lose more than you save."
Ratchet jolted, his optics constricting.
"Guys, guys," Bulkhead stood up between his reacquainted friend and Ratchet.
Ratchet's fury bubbled its way through reason, even after Optimus began blocking line of sight with his frame. He went as far as to push Optimus. "Try me again, Wrecker, and see what it costs just to stand here while you throw your lives away!"
Wheeljack smirked, his fists clenching. Bulkhead's sensors heightened, blocking Wheeljack from what he was about to do.
After a few more tugs to his frame, Ratchet let himself weaken in the clutches of Optimus, surrendering with a puff of smoke out his intake.
Optimus released his grip on Ratchet. "Enough, the both of you, we will settle this at the base," his gaze shifted to the treeline; smoke curled above the flames. “The fire is spreading. Come with us," he reached a servo out to Wheeljack.
Wheeljack yanked his arm free from Bulkhead’s hold. "I know you. You're Optimus Prime."
Optimus stood straighter. "Then you know that I do not allow my Autobots to engage in heedless disputes."
Wheeljack silently mocked the Prime as he mimicked the words with his servo.
Optimus recognized the blatant insolence, though he didn't want to keep this conflict going. "You stand by your reputation quite accurately in… several different respects. We can accommodate you, if you so please," his vocals strained with resistance.
Wheeljack backed up with disgust. The Prime offered nothing he wanted. He'd rather have one servo in the scrapyard then take orders from someone who's presence demanded trust. His gaze swiped to Arcee and Bumblebee, dismissing them as nothing more than followers of a broken system.
Wheeljack grabbed Bulkhead's arm, turning away from the team and pulling. "C'mon, help me finish Dreadwing."
Bulkhead stumbled before grounding himself, taking his arm away.
Wheeljack looked back. "Bulk?"
"I'm not going."
Wheeljack's wings lowered for a split second before shooting up in anger. "Are you seriously still latched onto Optimus?"
Bulkhead tightened his frame, turning back to him on unsteady peds. "Jackie—my ties are here now," his vents hitched. "You can't still be angry about the Battle of Thunderhead Pass."
Wheeljack rolled his optics, turning his back to him "Trading one leader for another did nothing for you," he limped toward his ship.
Bulkhead shook his helm in disbelief. "H-hey! Where are you going? You still need repairs—"
"I'm not getting repaired by that son of a glitch," Wheeljack continued walking away.
Ratchet furrowed his ridge line, almost getting set off again, but Optimus was in front of him, preventing. He always was.
Bulkhead's intake gaped but no words came out. Bumblebee stepped beside him. The team watched in silence as Wheeljack made the slow walk across the clearing.
Optimus placed a servo on Ratchet's kibble to get his attention. Ratchet looked up at Optimus, though the leader's gaze was still locked on Wheeljack.
"Call for fire rescue."
Ratchet nodded, finally sending an SOS to his position via his arm display.
"And Ratchet?" Optimus glanced to him.
Ratchet knew that tone all too well, his audials flattening, shoulder pads drooping.
"I expect more composure from you."
Ratchet gulped down angry smoke that dared expose his reaction to yet another constraint from Optimus.
He and his team watched Wheeljack's shuttle power up, lift into the air, and fly toward the direction Dreadwing escaped. Sirens sounded in the distance. Ratchet fidgeted with his display again, setting return coordinates for the ground bridge. He opened one nearby.
Bulkhead glanced tiredly at Ratchet as he walked toward the bridge. Bumblebee looked back too with confusion, optics twirling. Optimus left Ratchet's side to guide Bumblebee into the bridge.
Arcee walked up next to Ratchet, but her gaze was more gentle. "I think you're right about Wheeljack, but it feels too early to tell for sure," she said.
Ratchet pressed his dermas together. "He doesn't fight like an Autobot."
"He fights like a Wrecker," Arcee replied.
Ratchet sneered to himself. "Bulkhead never acted like this."
Arcee tilted her helm back and fourth in slight disagreement. "Put a Wrecker in war and he'll fit right in. Out here on Earth, it might seem a bit jarring," she placed a servo on his arm.
Ratchet acknowledged the chance that they had all grown softer since the thick of the war, but there was still something about Wheeljack he couldn't shake off. He walked into the bridge. Arcee followed.
The human settlement was none the wiser to what happened here; might it forever be a mystery as to how the aftermath occurred.