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Earth was a magnet for anything Cybertronian. Wheeljack would swear by that for the rest of his life. He’d only intended to visit Earth for a few days. Help Team Prime kick some ‘Con tailpipe, catch up with Bulkhead, have fun messing with the Doc-bot. Yet, here he was, roped into some sort of recon/retrieval mission. This wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun time. But, he had offered to help when he’d come to this little mudball, so he supposed he couldn’t complain too much.
Apparently, Ratchet had caught a Cybertronian signal headed for some remote Earth desert. From what he’d been able to tell, the good doctor had said that the signal was strange. It wasn’t the type of signal that would come off of a proper ship, so it was something else, something smaller. Personally, Wheeljack didn’t care what it was. All he cared about was the second part of the report: that the signal indicated another bot was on board whatever vessel was set to crash planet-side.
So, Prime had sent Bulkhead and the little scout to check it out, and asked Wheeljack if he’d be up for going along. How could he have said no? Besides, if it turned out to be a fight then of course he’d want to be there! Unfortunately for him, a fight was not to be had. The ground bridge had malfunctioned and dropped them a few miles off, and they’d had to drive the rest of the way to the predicted crash site. When they’d finally arrived, the vessel, which Wheeljack could now see was an escape pod, had already crashed. Apparently, whoever had been inside had also already been greeted by ‘Cons, because the terrain around the pod spoke of a rather violent battle.
The sand was soaked with energon, and the ground was strewn with vehicon and eradicon bodies. A large, thin piece of metal from the pod had been ripped off and used as a makeshift weapon; Wheeljack could see how, whoever had been in that pod, they had used to to gouge and hack at several of the dead drones. A few paces away, the offending piece of metal was stuck through an eradicon’s face. Beyond that, many of the bodies looked like they’d been killed by some sort of blaster or gun. Many more looked like something had ripped at their throats and left them to bleed out. A few were missing their helms altogether. Nearby, what had once been a large rock formation was now rubble, and the largest surviving boulder had deep gouge marks in the stone. On a few of the corpses, the edges of the escape pod, and the boulder, Wheeljack could see faint blue paint transfers.
“Primus,” Bulkhead said. “Whoever was in that pod, they sure did a lot of damage. Think the ‘Cons got them?”
Wheeljack crossed his arms, optics narrowed. Something about this was….eerily familiar. But from where? “Maybe.” he said after a moment. “Doubt it though.”
“Yeah? How do you figure that?”
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”
“Uh, guys?” Bumblebee beeped. “Hate to break this up, but you know what this means, right?”
Bulkhead blinked. “What do you mean, Bee?”
“If the ‘Cons came to get this bot, and the bot reacted like this to them,” he answered, gesturing at the scene around them. “Then whoever was in that pod is probably one of ours.”
Wheeljack perked up. “You known, kid, I think you’re right.” he grinned. Oh, now this was going to be fun.
He wondered who it was. The Terror Twins? Maybe, but the pod looked like it’d be cramped for two. Jazz? This was definitely within his ability to pull off, but something this violent wasn’t really his style. Ironhide? He definitely had the skill set to pull off carnage like this, and he would actually commit such a level of violence if he was pushed far enough. Pits, it could be a lot of mechs. It could even be one of the femmes! There was no real way to tell. Wheeljack did want to meet them and shake their hand, though. This level of chaos and destruction was honestly impressive.
“Alright.” Bulkhead spoke up. “So it’s one of ours. But the question now is, where are they?”
Oh, he just had to ruin to mood with his pertinent questions, didn’t he?
“There’s no way to tell.” Bumblebee beeped. “We just have to wait and see if more clues pop up, I guess. I hope we find them soon, though.”
That, Wheeljack could agree with.
Bulkhead was distracted. Miko knew the other humans couldn’t pick up on it, but Bulk was her best friend and she knew him. So when she said he was distracted, she meant it. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t like he wasn’t doing his job, or was getting in trouble in the field because of his distraction, but it was definitely affecting his life at base. He was so…quiet. Ever since that mission in the desert, where they’d come back without the mystery bot, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything he did with her. Miko was starting to get very annoyed with it, actually.
Which meant it was time to get to the root of the problem. And, luckily for her, no one was in the secondary chamber of the base today, which she and Bulkhead had taken over to use to practice their music when they got kicked out of the main room. Which meant now was the perfect time to brooch the subject with her giant metal pal.
“Hey, Bulk!”
He startled at her call, blue eyes darting down to fix on her. “Miko? Do you need something?”
“Yeah!” she put her hands on her hips. “You’ve been distracted ever since the desert. What’s the deal, big guy?”
He blinked slowly, then sighed. “That obvious?”
“Just to me!” she said cheerily, clambering up to perch on his knee. “So, what’s the deal? Spill!”
“It’s something Wheeljack said. At crash site, there was, uh, a lot of carnage.” he said. She could tell he was picking his words carefully to avoid going into too much detail. That was no fun! “And, well, Jackie mentioned some of the damage looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure out from where. And he’s right. It was familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Well,” Miko kicked her legs. “You guys said it was probably a ‘Bot, right?” At his nod, she continued. “Then maybe it’s familiar cause it’s the damage caused by a specific ‘Bot?”
Bulkhead made a noise of frustration. “We kind of figured that. But that’s the problem. We just don’t know who.”
“So, you know they’re a ‘Bot, and the damage they did was really familiar to you and Wheeljack, but you can’t figure out which ‘Bot and from where the damage is familiar?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
“Hmmm…” Miko tapped her chin. “Yeah, okay. Now I see why you’re distracted.”
He chuckled, lightly tapping her head with a finger. “Thanks anyway, Miko.”
“Yeah yeah, no problem.” she said, distracted herself now. Now shewas lost in thought, and over the same conundrum as Bulkhead!
Just who was this mystery Autobot?
The day had started out peaceful. Frankly, Wheeljack had been bored. Which was why he was quite thrilled with where it had gone, in the end. Ratchet had found an energon mine, and Optimus had asked him, Bulkhead, and Arcee to go check it out and collect what they could. They’d come, and they’d managed to get quite a bit of energon piled up by the time the action had started.
There has been the sound of a ground bridge, and then Breakdown had stepped out from it, followed by a gaggle of vehicons and eradicons. And then, of course, the clash began. Breakdown had gone straight for Bulkhead, and that left Wheeljack and Arcee to take on the drones. For a while, he’d let his processor blank, his frame moving on reflexes alone as he struck down an ‘Con who came into range of his blades. He didn’t notice anything around him as he fought, his swords cutting through armor and limbs and throats alike.
When he next looked up, Bulkhead had backed Breakdown into a corner. So much so that the former Wrecker had been forced to call for a ground bridge and retreat. But, of course, these were Decepticons they were dealing with, so nothing could ever be easy. Less than a minute after Breakdown had been forced to flee, another ground bridge opened and spilled out a horde of vehicons and eradicons.
“Scrap.” Wheeljack hissed.
This wasn’t good. True, the drones are easy to take down, but in large enough numbers they started to wear a mech down. They’d probably get out of this fine, but it’d be cutting it close. Arcee gave a fierce cry as she dove back into the fray, and Wheeljack exchanged a nod with Bulkhead before both Wreckers joined her. Working together, they managed to thin the horde down until there were few left.
And that, of course, was when things went wrong. Arcee had gotten too close to the edge of a nearby cliff edge, and one lucky shot her her stumbling back and over. Bulkhead reacted quickly, lunging forward and shooting out his wrecking ball for his teammate to catch. Wheeljack, meanwhile, roared and lunged forward to take out the rest of the vehicons so they couldn’t offline his friend while the big green lug was distracted.
Too late, he realized he’d forgotten about the eradicons in flight above him. In fact, he didn’t even realize they’d been there until he heard the sound of blades rapidly slicing through the air and the snarl of a powerful engine. Then there was the sound of blaster fire, and eradicons dropped to the ground around him.
Before he could look up or turn around, Wheeljack heard the sound of a transformation sequence above him, and then a heavy metal form dropped to the earth at his back. He whirled around, bringing his blades to bare, ready to slice the helm off whatever ‘Con had tried get the drop on him.
He froze, his swords mere micrometers from slicing into the throat of the offending bot, and then he slid his battle mask aside and grinned fiercely.
“Well well well, look what the turbo-fox dragged in!”
Will was not having a good day. The higher ups were getting uppity about the ‘Bots. About Wheeljack in particular, actually. They kept throwing a fit that the Wrecker wasn’t a permanent addition to Team Prime, and that he came and left as he pleased. Apparently, their displeasure was rooted in the fact that having another Autobot on the team more permanently might make them end their war a little earlier. The pencil pushers up in Washington just didn’t understand that matters were a little more complicated than that. Of course, they also refused to listen when he tried to explain that he, nor they, had any say over how the alien military handled its individual soldiers. And when Wheeljack kept leaving, they kept getting angry. Then they took that irritation out on him. Hence, he wasn’t having a good day.
He had come down to the Autobot’s base to talk to Prime about some of their more recent missions. Including the one in the desert. None of the bots had actually cleaned up the mess left behind there, and some humans had recently stumbled across it. It had been….fun, to explain that away. So, he was here to remind Prime to be a bit more careful about leaving messes on battlefields where humans might stumble across it. Will had also been ordered to try and convince Wheeljack to stay, though he wasn’t holding his breath on that one.
As he leaned against the railing, talking with Prime, he heard noise from Ratchet’s direction. The medic was talking to someone, probably one of the bots who were out, and then he was opening the ground bridge. Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack came through, carrying cubes of energon, and they set it all in the corner. When Ratchet went to turn off the ground bridge, Bulkhead stopped him.
“Just a second, Ratchet. We have a guest coming in.” he said, seeming cheerful.
“A guest?” Prime spoke up, frowning.
“Yep!” Wheeljack grinned. “He’s one of ours! It’s the ‘Bot from the escape pods!” he gestured at the ground bridge, and all eyes turned to it.
Will heard the metallic sound of Cybertronian footsteps, and then a form appeared, silhouetted against the light of the ground bridge. The bot walked forward, and as the ground bridge powered off Will got his first good look at Earth’s newest Autobot.
“Optimus, everyone, this is Whirl.” Bulkhead said, grinning. “He’s a Wrecker, like me and Jackie.”
Whirl certainly looked like he’d fit in as an elite soldier. The blue Autobot was tall, with digitigrade legs, and pincer-like claws in place of hands. His arms were a little odd, and Will was quick to realize he seemed to have some sort of rotors in each arm. His most startling feature, however, was his head. He had a cylindrical head, and no face to speak of. Instead, he had a singular, large golden eye set into the center of his head. He also had thin, sharp protrusions coming off his back, which Will swore looked like helicopter blades. Hell, even the bot’s feet were strange, looking like someone had bound the front claws of a bird’s talons and left the back claw alone.
For a second, the Autobot base was silent. Then Nakadai broke it.
“Another Wrecker?” she gasped, racing down the stairs of the entertainment nook and running up to the new bot. “That’s so cool! You look awesome! It’s really great to meet another bot, especially another Wrecker like Bulk and Wheeljack! Your claws look sharp, I bet you can do a lot of damage with them! Tell me, how many ‘Cons have you taken on with them?” she asked, excited.
Whirl startled, blinking down at her. “Oh, hey.” he spoke. “You’re one of those little organics. I didn’t know you guys kept some of the locals around.” he said, directing the last statement at Bulkhead.
“We don’t.” the green bot replied. “These guys are…a special case.”
Whirl shrugged, then turned back to the excited human at his feet. “Fine by me.” he chirped, crouching down. “Hiya!” he greeted Nakadai. “You’re very energetic! I like that!”
Nakadai cackled, clearly thrilled that the large bot was matching her energy. “I’m Miko!” she thrust her hand out.
Whirl blinked again, and then his eye was curving into a thin arch that Will swore was his approximation of a smile. “Oooh, I’ve seen this with you lot!” God, the new guy sounded giddy. “It’s how you say hello!”
Whirl held out his own hand, letting Nakadai grasp the tip of a single claw in hand before waving his hand up and down slightly. She laughed, her whole body pulled along with the movement, and let go once he stopped. Once she was stable on her feet, he reached out and very carefully tapped the tip of one claw against the top of her head.
“I like you!” he announced. “Any tiny organic brave enough to run up to the Whirlybird gets an okay in my book!”
Wheeljack laughed, walking over to his former teammate as the blue bot stood back up. He slapped Whirl’s back with a grin. “Well that’s good, because the humans are kinda a fixture here, so if you wanna stay you gotta get used to them!”
Whirl responded to the slap by punching his claws against Wheeljack’s shoulder. “Rough as always, Wheelie?” he said, the edge of a growl under his voice.
“No!” Bulkhead cut in before Wheeljack could respond. “No brawls in here.” he scolded.
Both the other bots pouted. Or, well, Will thought Whirl was pouting. It was hard to tell. “You’re no fun.” they said together.
Off to the side, Prime made a sound that Will knew to be the Cybertronian equivalent of clearing his throat. “Whirl.”
Immediately, that odd head snapped in his direction. Prime continued. “I am pleased that you have safely found your way to us. I must ask, however. How did you come to find yourself on Earth?”
“Is that what this fun little mudball is called?” Whirl made an odd clicking noise. “Neat.”
“Whirl.” Prime prompted again.
“Right.” he said. “See, I was actually a few star systems over. Had my own ship, ‘cept I crashed it. Managed to make it on my own, but then the ‘Cons found me. Was running low on fuel and not in the best shape, so they managed to nab me. Took me to this big ship, I think they were planning on sending me to old Megatron cause of our history.” Here, he waved his hand and clicked his claws in a gesture Will could only call dismissive. “Managed to get out, and I hijacked an escape pod. Next thing I know, I’m crashing on this planet and waking up to a ‘Con welcome party! I dealt with them, of course, and then went to figure out where I was! I scanned a new alt-mode, then lay low and tried to figure out the whole deal with Cybertronians here. Then I stumbled on Bulky and Wheelie, and here I am!” he finished, throwing his arms up partway as if in celebration.
Prime blinked, clearly trying to sort through the information. “…you have history with Megatron?”
“Unfortunately! Megzy hates me! I’m positive he wants to see me die very painfully!”
Will really didn’t understand how he could say that so cheerfully.
“I…see.” Prime clearly did not. Nonetheless, he continued. “You have had a long journey to come here, Whirl. I regret to inform you that Megatron is also on this planet, but if you would care to stay and join the fight then my team will welcome you.”
Whirl blinked, lifting a claw to tap at his chin. Did he have a chin? Hell if Will knew.
“Megzy’s here, eh? Well, it’s not like I was trying to avoid him anyway.” Whirl shrugged, then his eye curved in that grinning arch again. “What the Pit, I’m in! I’d be happy to join your little crew, Prime!” he chirped, his arm coming up to snap a salute.
Except as he did, it caused the armor plates under his arm to shift and reveal a wound leaking energon near his armpit. The blue of the energon was similar enough to his paint that it hadn’t been noticed in the excitement, but now as a drop of it fell to the ground, the wound was definitely noticed.
Ratchet in particular was honed in on it. “You’re injured?” he demanded, taking a step towards the new arrival. “Why didn’t you say anything? Let me take a look at that, I can repair it.” he grunted.
Whirl stepped away from the medic, his eye narrowing. “You’re a medic, yeah? I’ve heard a lot about the famous Ratchet.”
“Yes, I’m a medic.” Ratchet snapped. “Now stay still and let me look at you!” He made to get closer.
“No need, Doc! Just point me in the direction of the medical stuff and I can take care of it! I’ve treated myself plenty of times before!” Whirl said cheerily.
“Oh no you will not!” Ratchet growled, reaching for the other bot.
Whirl made an odd noise then, one that made every bot in the base go still and stare at him. His engine seemed to snarl, and his armor shifted and flared, making him look significantly larger. The rotors in his arms spun to life, a high pitched humming filling the silence. His eye focused on Ratchet, the protrusions at his back twitching.
Slowly, Ratchet backed off, raising his hands and taking a few steps away. He pointed down the hall to where the makeshift medbay had been set up. “Down that way.” he said calmly.
After a beat of silence, Whirl relaxed, the harsh glow of his eye fading as he nodded and trotted off. Once he was gone, Will spoke up.
“What in the name of Sam Hill was that?”
“A threat display.” Arcee supplied helpfully.
“Threat display?! Are you saying he threatened Ratchet? Prime, did you just invite a bot onto your team who’s a danger to the people here?” Will demanded.
“No!” Bulkhead yelped. “It’s not like that! Ratchet pushed too far.”
“How?!”
“I did.” Ratchet agreed. “He was clearly uncomfortable around me. I should have backed off when he first gave signs of discomfort.”
“He still threatened you!” Will yelled.
“I would like to know why as well, Bulkhead.” Prime said seriously.
“Whirl’s not a danger to anyone here.” Wheeljack said, sounding dead serious.
“Then what was that?” Wil demanded.
“Whirl…doesn’t really like medics.” Bulkhead said, sounding hesitant. “I think he might even have a fear of ‘em.”
“What? Why?”
Wheeljack snorted. “You all saw him. Why do you think?”
Will didn’t know what that meant. But there was silence for a moment, and it seemed like the other bots did know what that meant.
“Oh.” Ratchet was quiet. “That’s….yes. I should have predicted that.” he sounded almost faint.
“I see.” Prime murmured, tone somber.
“Oh, Pits. I didn’t even think of that.” Arcee seemed deeply uncomfortable.
In the corner, Bumblebee beeped something and shifted, refusing to look at anyone.
Will exchanged a look with the kids, who were clearly as confused as he was. Then he turned back to the bots. “Prime! What’s the deal?”
“It is not my place to say, Agent Fowler.” he said grimly. “I do apologize for causing confusion, but that information is Whirl’s alone to share.”
“But he’s not a threat?” Will said carefully. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he was smart. He could read between the lines. Whatever Whirl’s deal with medics was, it was related to some sort of trauma. He wouldn’t pry, he knew better.
“No, he is not.”
“Then I guess I should go inform the powers that be that there’s a new bot in town.” Will sighed, stepping back and heading to the elevator.
Oh, this was going to be fun to explain to higher ups, he could tell already.
Whirl found the makeshift medbay easily. After that, it didn’t take him long to weld the gash under his arm. He used a rag to mop up the mess of energon on his armor, then tossed it aside and looked around. He couldn’t help but feel out of place. He’d seen the rest of Prime’s team. They were all Normal, were all Good and Unbroken. Whirl…wasn’t. He was Wrong, was Shattered and Twisted and Bad. But he had to keep going, didn’t he? It wasn’t like there was much else he could do. Not with the War raging on.
The copter bot sighed, his optic shuttering as he sagged where he stood. He was tired, okay? He’d been fighting for so long. He’d left the Aerial Corps because he hadn’t wanted to fight, he hadn’t wanted his life to be defined by violence. He’d been Good and Whole, back then. Back when he’d still had his hands and his shop and his watches and clocks. Back before the Senate stole it all from him.
The memory of his loss burned through him, white-hot and raging. His engine snarled, and before he realized what he was doing he raked his claws along the wall, drawing deep gouges into the metal. He stared at the damage, his engine growling with pent up aggression. He had to fight. It was all he knew. Ever since he’d lost his watches, all he’d known was violence, violence, and more violence. Now, it was the only language he knew, the only thing he understood. He lived and breathed violence, and with every passing day the storm raging in his helm grew worse.
Whirl wasn’t sane. He was well aware of that fact. But what was he supposed to do about it? There were no psychologists, not among the Autobots or Decepticons. Even if there were, he wouldn’t go. His thoughts were his own. He wasn’t about to bare his spark to some soft little processor-doctor in the vain hope it might help. It wouldn’t. He knew that. Medics, of the psychiatric kind or otherwise, never wanted to help him. Even when they had to treat him to save his life, it was always the bare minimum he needed before they kicked him out of their medbay. Medics weren’t good. Not to him, never for him.
He stared at the damaged wall for another beat, then turned his helm away and walked out of the room. He stopped, surprised when his exit was met with the sight of Bulkhead. Immediately, he forced his EM field to project cheer and humor, forcing down the exhaustion and melancholy that he knew had been wrapped in it before. No one could know. Everyone already knew ol’ Whirlybird was insane and prone to fits of violence. He wouldn’t let them know how bad off his processor actually was. It would make his end goal for the end of the War easier to get away with. He didn’t want to be helped. “Help” was usually just another excuse other bots used to hurt him anyway.
“Bulky!” Whirl chirped. “Fancy meeting you here! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Don’t tell me the Prime asked you to escort little ol’ me?”
Bulkhead seemed mildly confused but mostly amused. “You’re still the same Whirl, aren’t you?” he grinned. “No, but Jackie and I got one of the spare rooms here set up for you. It’s only got a berth in it right now, but if you’re staying on Team Prime you’ll need your own space.”
Whirl blinked, cocking his helm. His winglets fluttered at his back. “Awe!” he cooed. “You shouldn’t have! I’m flattered!”
He chuckled, then gestured with one large hand. “This way. I’ll show you were it is. Optimus said you can rest and regain your strength for the rest of the day, but tomorrow he’d like to talk to you and explain our situation here.”
Whirl set off to follow the big green bot as he walked off. “Fine by me! It’ll be nice to recharge in a berth again! Lemme tell ya, the ground on this mudball isn’t comfortable at all!” he complained. “I made the mistake of recharging in some of that organic plant matter once, and I’m still picking out organic bits from my seams!”
Bulkhead chuckled, grinning over his shoulder. “Yeah, Earth can be pretty messy sometimes. It’s a pretty neat planet, though. I think you’ll like it, especially the humans!”
“Well, if the rest of the tinies are anything like that Miko one, then I probably will!”
“Miko’s a class all on her own.” Primus bless him, Bulkhead seemed proud of that. “She’s my ward. Optimus assigned her and the other two children to three of us when they accidentally discovered our secret.”
“Awe, you’re like a proud creator. That’s adorable, Bulky.”
“Wha-no!” he sputtered, field flaring with embarrassment. “It’s not like that! I just take care of her while she’s here! She’s a good kid.”
“You’re not helping your case, buddy.”
Bulkhead groaned, coming to a stop in front of a door. “Oh, just shut it, Whirl.” Despite the harsh words, there was no true anger in his voice. “Anyway, this is your room. I’m going to go join the others. You’re free to do what you want.” he said, then spun on his heel and hurried off, likely to escape further teasing.
Whirl stared after him in amusement, then opened the door and slipped in, letting it slide shut behind him. As Bulkhead had said, there was only a berth in the room, but he could add to it as time went on. Besides, right now he only needed the berth anyway. He padded over to it, and let himself fall face-first into it. He kicked his legs and flopped around to get his whole body into the berth, then rolled and twisted until he’d gotten himself wrapped in the mesh blanket that had been left on it.
He was tired. He’d been traveling for a long time without proper recharge. He could deal with the things to come in the morning. Right now, he just wanted rest. Whirl sighed, optic slipping shut as he relaxed. In the silence of the room, he let his processor wander, slipping from thought to thought until recharge took him.
And as day turned to night and and rest of the base bedded down, Whirl slept on, dreaming dreams of all the things he had been, and all the things he could be.