One Human, One Spark 6

Cruising into Miko's neighborhood, Wheeljack pulled to a stop in front of her house. Waiting for the appropriate time—when he heard her finally moving around in her room—he gave two light honks. After a moment, a tired and grumpy Miko flung open her blinds and threw open the window.

"Jeez, Bee, why are you so—!"

She stopped, eyes bugging wide at the sight of Wheeljack in her driveway. He twitched his rearview mirrors and popped open the passenger side door.

Her lips thinned, and she disappeared from the window.

For some reason, Wheeljack felt his spark starting to pound harder. He snorted at his insecure self—of course she was going to come . . . right?

The door was opened some minutes later to Miko fully dressed and her guitar in hand, backpack slung on a shoulder. Coming to stand right in front of him, she narrowed her eyes a bit distrusting.

Wheeljack shifted rather uncomfortably on his suspension. "Hey," he finally said.

Her lips pressed again, and she tossed her junk in the back seat before getting in the front.

She buckled up, crossing her arms, and Wheeljack pulled out of her driveway slowly. "No greeting for me?"

She looked up with faked surprise. "Oh. Well, hi then."

Wheeljack felt irritation rise in him as he drove up to the first stop sign. "What did I do to deserve THAT tone?" he demanded, and her brown eyes flashed fire.

"A week!" she shouted at him, hitting his dashboard. "It took you a week to come back? And then all you've got to say to me is hey!"

Wheeljack jerked the seatbelt taunt against her, growling, "That's not all I've got to say to you, but obviously you won't listen to a Primus-forsaken thing I've got to say!"

"You haven't even said anything!" she yelled back.

Wheeljack gunned his engine in irritation, and took a left. Miko's jaw ground audibly. "School is the OTHER way," she sniffed. "Unless you're planning on kidnapping me like Dreadwing did."

Wheeljack slammed on the breaks, causing Miko to squeak and throw out her hands. She whipped back so hard into the seat she bounced.

"Don't you EVER compare me to that fragging murderer," Wheeljack hissed to her, successfully making the color drain from her cheeks. "I am NOT him. Now apologize, you spoiled brat, because I sure as hell don't deserve any of the temper tantrums that you've given me."

"Well, I don't deserve to be lied to!" she snapped back. A small blush touched her cheeks, and she looked down, frowning at her knees.

"You just keep that thought to yourself right now," Wheeljack muttered, taking the interstate out of Jasper. "I'm taking you out to the desert. You can kiss school goodbye for today. We're going to talk things out and get some things straight right now."

"Good," Miko sneered, but since she didn't have anything else to bite back with, she fell silent and glared out the window.

When they were far enough out of Jasper on the highway, Wheeljack turned off the road and into the sand. Heading some miles in until they were all alone, he rolled to a stop and opened his door. Miko got out, and he transformed up.

"All right, look—" He paused, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Opening his chest plating, he reached in and fished out her guitar and backpack, sitting them down next to her. "All right, Miko, I want to get some things straight right now. No—I want to get everything straight right now. Let's start with that awful way you woke me up from stasis."

She crossed her arms, glaring up at him. "Why do you think? I wanted you to wake up!"

"And you couldn't have just let me do that on my own?" he barked at her, her accusing tone starting to really irk him.

"No!" she shouted back. "You were out cold for THREE DAYS! Ratchet was getting worried, and I heard him muttering about something that could trigger you waking up, and since it worked with Bulkhead, I thought it would work with you—and it did!"

Wheeljack scowled. "And hurt my audio receptors like hell!" he said back, crossing his arms. "Did it ever occur to you that something so loud waking up from a stasis in critical condition was going to piss me off?"

"It's your fault!" she yelled back, patches of pink starting to dye her cheeks with rage. "I thought you LIKED my music, so it wouldn't have mattered 'cause you would have been jamming with me, but instead to tell me to turn that shit down!"

"Watch your mouth," he growled, jabbing a finger down at her.

"Make me," she sniffed, turning her nose up. "I know what slag parallels to in English, and you've been cursing at me, so I don't see the problem!"

"You don't like it when I curse?" Wheeljack snapped.

"No! I don't!"

"Well, what else do you not like?"

As the sun rose higher and got hotter in the morning, red heat began to flush Miko's cheeks more. "I don't like it that you lied to me!" she shouted at him, fists clenching. She was utterly tiny at his peds, but she seemed intent on making him believe that his height didn't intimidate her. "I HATE it that you lied to me! If you didn't like my music, you should have just told me!"

Wheeljack got down on a knee to get his face closer to her. "Is that right? Then let's get it out right now—I hate your taste in music. It's Primus awful, and sounds like Cybertronians dying on the battlefield!"

"Oh yeah?" she gritted between her teeth rather shrilly. The pitch hurt Wheeljack's audio receptors. "Well I hate your paint job! I hate how white it is and so perfectly perfect it is, like you're some spoiled prick who's afraid of a little scratch!"

Wheeljack gave one, scornful laugh, making her eyes narrow when the sun glinted off his armor. "Is that all you've got?" he sneered down at her. "I hate every inch of you and how squishy and breakable you are, all the way down to the disgusting mucus and the sickening way you lose waste! And I also hate the way it you dress, like your wardrobe just exploded on you like you were blind when you put it on you look so bad!" Miko gave him a hurt look, so Wheeljack leaned closer until he was just in front of her face. "C'mon, Babe," he taunted her. "You're not going to hurt my precious little feelings. Why don't you tell me how you really feel?"

"Fine!" she shouted back, fists clenching tightly. "I will! I hate you! Everything about you! I hate how reckless you are, and the way it's going to get you killed! I hate that your alt mode is a prissy little sports car instead of something bulky! I hate your one grenade policy! What happens if you miss, huh? You just outta luck? Gonna die cause you were stupid enough not to carry extra?"

"Is that so?" he snorted at her. "I hate your prissy little attitude like everything in the world has to go your way! Some day you've got to wake up out of this fantasy world and realize that not everythng's perfect!"

"I did!" she shrieked at him, tears pricking her eyes. "When Bulkhead died, you bastard!" Wheeljack recoiled a little, taken off guard by her vehemence, but she didn't stop there. "I hate you! I hate you and I hate that you didn't save him! You should have been able to save him! I hate that you were dumb enough to go running into a trap and I hate that your reckless attitude got Bulkhead killed!"

"Yeah?" Wheeljack snapped back, cold blue optics glaring down at her. "I hate all the stories Bulkhead got to tell me about YOU running recklessly into danger and how worried he was that you were going to get hurt! Takes one to know one, missy!"

"I hate you!" she screamed again, face red and tears starting to film her eyes. "I hate your flippant attitude! I hate it when you call me Babe! I hate that you just moved on like Bulkhead never existed! I hate that you just left when Optimus told you to instead of fighting to stay with me! I hate that you deserted me! I hate that you're so obsessed with Dreadwing, I hate that you got hurt instead of me, I hate that I want you to kill Dreadwing, I hate that there's green in your paintjob, I hate that you never finished that horror story, I hate that you blow yourself up when you work with your gadgets, I hate everything about you, and I hate that you didn't save Bulkhead!"

Wheeljack watched her carefully as her screaming escalated until she stopped, having run out of things to hate him for. She was blinking rapidly, fighting back her tears to stay angry at Wheeljack, and he scowled down at him. "I hate your careless way you talk to everyone, like they don't have feelings!" he shot back at her, and she jutted her chin up, daring him to hurt her feelings. "I hate when you put your feet up on my dashboard, and I hate your demanding tone! I hate your selfish ways, I hate that you ignored me when I was getting repaired at the base, I hate that you think you can get everything your way, and I love your determination!" The shift in words was so sudden that Wheeljack almost didn't register it, but merely went with the flow. "I love your pink hair, it's wild that you're brave enough to wear it like that! I love it when you call me Jackie, it reminds me of my Wrecking team and old times!"

"Yeah?" she interrupted with a shout, glaring up at him. "Well, I love how sleek your alt mode looks! I love the way your optics look, and I love hearing all your stories about Cybertron!" She kept going, as if it were a contest to see who could outnumber the other with how much they hated and loved each other. The sun rose high, cooking Wheeljack's metal.

"I love that you were such good friends with Bulkhead!" she shouted, tears welling in her eyes. "I love it when you call me Babe—nobody's ever given me a nickname before! I love that you're cool enough to disobey Optimus's orders, and I love it that you do what you want, when you want, how you want! I love it that you're letting me skip school because no one else does! I love your cocky attitude, I love how cool you fight with your swords, I love that you can get along just fine without anyone helping you, I love how you're my new guardian, I love how you never gave up on Bulkhead even in the end, I love that you're willing to avenge him, and I love everything you've done for me!"

Her voice broke on a little sob, and she turned away, crossing her arms and literally quaking with passion. She tried to stifle her tears, but they were coming anyway. Venting a soft sigh from his gears, Wheeljack rested on his knee, reaching out a finger to touch her.

"Well, I love it that you won't let me see you cry," he told her quieter, pressing his finger to her back in support. She still refused to look at him, but that only heightened how impressed he was of her. "I love it that you won't let anybody see you when you're weak, and I love it that you won't let anyone bully you. I loved it when you stood up to those girls at the KO Burger, and I love it that you won't ever let anyone take advantage of you."

Shifting his hand, Wheeljack tenderly moved a finger to swipe at her face to wipe the tears away. She sniffed, almost inaudibly. "I love how soft your cheeks are," he told her, shifting to shield her from the hot sun. "It amazes me that you can be so squishy and still live. I love how your body . . . regenerates? when you get it hurt. I love how it can heal itself. I love how determined you are to help your friends even when you can't. I love hearing you play your guitar even if it hurts my ears because you're so good at it. I love seeing you smile, I love seeing you happy, and I love seeing you immersed in the things you love." He paused, and he let out a soft sigh. "I love it that you were so worried about me . . . Other than my Wrecking team, there's never been someone like that."

Miko sniffed again, scrubbing her face once more before glancing up to Wheeljack. "Jackie?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." She hugged his finger tightly, sniffing again and wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "Sorry about the snot too . . . But I'm sorry about the music."

"It's fine," he interrupted her gently. He nudged her. "I should have just told you I didn't like it."

She shook her head, looking down at the sand beneath her feet. "No, I shouldn't have gotten so mad. It was stupid. I just . . . I guess I took it too personally. I always did want to be a famous rock star when I grew up . . ."

Wheeljack felt a pang in his spark. There was the heart of the matter. "Of course you can become a famous rock star," he reassured her. She blinked red ringed eyes up at him, and Wheeljack sighed again, sitting down crisscross and picking her up to sit on his palm. He bent his head down to her level. "You can be anything you want to be," he told her seriously.

She swiped at a hair in her face. "I can?"

He snorted. "Of course you can! Who told you otherwise? I'll break them to slag. You can be whatever you want to be. And you can damn well be a rock star." Remembering part of her rant where she didn't like his cursing, he felt his brows pinch. Oops. "Well, judging by what I've heard with you playing that guitar, you can be a rock star in a heartbeat. You play it better than most, and if you can keep up and play the songs your favorite band plays, I know you can do it."

Guileless brown eyes stared up at him in wonder. "Really? You really think that?"

"Course I do," he said with a grin, shrugging. "I said it, didn't I? And Primus knows I'm not ever going to lie to you again."

Miko gave a little smile at that, and then she dropped her head. After a moment, she whispered, "Jackie?"

"Yeah?"

Her hands clenched in her lap. Her tear filled voice rasped, "I miss Bulkhead."

Wheeljack thought he felt a knife skewer through his spark. Cupping her carefully in his hand, he scooped her in close to his chest. "I know," he said quietly, feeling her tiny fingers grip his chest plating. Her cheek rested above his grieving spark. "I miss him too."

Tears began to leak from her eyes again. "He was the only one who understood me," she cried softly, irregular hiccups making her that much more pathetic and precious. "Not my host parents, not even my real parents. Why—Why did he have to die?"

Wheeljack closed his eyes, feeling something thick constrict his throat. He swallowed carefully before answering, "I don't know, Miko, I just . . . Primus, do you see now, Miko? This is why I have to kill Dreadwing. I—There's this place in me that won't rest until I know Dreadwing is dead and Bulkhead is avenged, and you're safe. You can see that—you and I loved Bulkhead more than the rest of them."

Wheeljack turned his face away, cringing slightly. "I know Optimus means good . . . I know he does. It's just . . . He didn't know Bulkhead like we did. Sure, he was good friends, and I knew he cares a lot about Bulkhead, but he didn't connect with him like we did. Our pain is different, and only we can help each other through this."

Miko's fist hit his chest plates, banging a little. "I hate him, Wheeljack," she hiccupped angrily. "I hate that—that Dreadwing. I—I want him dead! I—I want to kill him!" Her voice broke again in shame at what she was saying, and her crying renewed in force. "He doesn't deserve to live! Not after what he did to us! To Bulkhead—!"

Wheeljack took another steadying breath, feeling his insides tremble. Primus, he hadn't meant to push his lust for revenge on her . . . unless hers had already been there to begin with, and she had been too scared to admit it. Before Wheeljack could formulate a response, Miko sobbed on.

"But I—I know it's wrong, Jackie, I know it's wrong! I shouldn't want it!" She sniffled, hiccupping again. She hit his chest again, pressing desperately into him. "But I—as much as I want it, I don't! I can't! I—I want him dead, but I just don't think it's worth it! I—" She took a shuddering breath, trying to breathe and explain herself both as well as control her raging emotions. "It's just not worth it," she wept helplessly, fingers grasping him tightly. "Jackie, I—I don't want to lose you, and I'm so afraid if you keep trying to get revenge on Dreadwing, I'll lose you too!"

Spark contracting painfully, Wheeljack rasped immediately, "Don't cry, Miko. I'm right here. I'm right here, I'm never leaving you. I promise."

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Wheeljack tried to fight back the lubricant he felt welling up threateningly. He hunched over her, feeling himself tremble as he sucked in shallow and steadying breaths. "Please, don't leave me, Jackie, don't leave . . ."

"I'll never leave," he rasped tightly again, voice quavering against his will. "I'm right here, Babe, I'm with you. I'm not going anywhere."

Wheeljack felt his throat work hard around the tears that began to leak down his cheeks. Miko embraced close to his chest wept quietly, alternately kissing and hitting his chest. They stayed that way for quite some time in the middle of the blazing hot desert, and Wheeljack finally worked around his quailing emotions to control them. Taking a steadying breath, Wheeljack looked down on the tiny human cupped in his hand.

She was calming down now, the flush of red receding from her cheeks save for the heat of day, but she was in desperate need of a tissue. Wheeljack sighed to himself—how to fix this now? Seeing her pressed against his chest, Wheeljack suddenly got an idea.

"Hey, Miko?"

She sniffed again, looking up with those big brown eyes. "Yeah?"

His spark lurched with a myriad of cherishing emotion. "Would you like to see my spark chamber?"

Her brows pinched a little as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Your spark chamber?"

Wheeljack nodded. "It's . . . like a chest cavity. It holds my spark, which is like my heart."

Her eyes widened. "You can just . . . show me that? Isn't that dangerous?"

The hint of a smirk touched his lips. "Only if you plan on hurting me it is," he said.

Miko wiped her cheeks again, looking up at him uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," he said immediately. "Ready for this?"

Miko bit her lip but nodded, looking towards his chest eagerly, all traces of tears gone. Wheeljack felt a lead weight lift—she wasn't crying anymore.

Opening it up, Wheeljack immediately felt horribly exposed, both in the sense of nakedness and extremely unprotected, but watching the wonder coil in Miko's face was well worth it. She breathed out in awe, the reflection of the glowing energies of his life mirrored in her brown eyes.

"Jackie, it's . . . it's really beautiful . . . That's what keeps you alive?"

"Sure does," he told her, moving her a bit closer so she could see the light blue sparkles clearer. "It's my life force. See it beating? It puts the energon through my system, just like a heart."

"Whoa . . ."

Wheeljack felt himself smiling down at her innocent wonder, but when she reached out to touch it, he pulled her back some. "Nah, I wouldn't touch it."

Her eyes flicked up briefly to his before returning to his spark, riveted. "Is it that sensitive?"

Wheeljack felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. "Well, it's my heart. What do you think?"

Miko didn't respond that time, caught in her own private fairy tale as she drank in the beauty of his spark. "I can protect that . . ." she whispered, and he felt her hands tighten on him.

A wave of touched emotion rippled through him. Before she could impossibly see his all just by looking at his spark, Wheeljack bashfully closed his chest paneling over his spark chamber again.

"Well," he started in rather roughly, "glad you liked that. See? Interactive learning. If Ratchet had given you a lecture on sparks you wouldn't have been interested at all, but when you get to see it you were perfectly fine."

Miko groaned, rolling her eyes and flopping back dramatically. "PLEASE don't give Ratchet any ideas. I get enough rag from him as it is."

Wheeljack laughed, setting her back down on the sands as the day drew ever closer to the middle of the day. "Sure thing, Babe. You're secret is safe with me."

She smiled back, and then, she suddenly looked left and right. "Can you keep another secret?" she asked him, and Wheeljack leaned down in confiding silence.

"Sure thing. What is it?"

Her brown eyes held some sort of . . . mischief. "Well, I—I never told Bulkhead because I know he would have been really embarrassed and disapproving, and Primus knows my parents don't know . . . But I've always wanted to go streaking."

Wheeljack felt laughter rise in him. "Well, then go for it!" he urged her, unable to stop chuckling at her daring nature. "Ain't nobody going to hear it from me!"

She grinned, but looked left and right again, as if afraid of getting caught in the middle of nowhere streaking was worse than being with a giant, alien robot. "Okay!" she burst, practically quivering with anticipation. She paused, and then made a face at Wheeljack. "But, I think I'll keep my underwear on, cause I don't want sand up in that area."

Wheeljack did a rather over exaggerated groan, putting both hands out as a ward against her words. "Primus—Miko! Babe, that was too much information! We might be different species, but I know what all that is! Just strip down and get moving—or are you chicken?"

"I'm not a chicken!" she burst in excited denial, quickly throwing off her tank top and shirt, leaving her braless in the middle of the desert. Wheeljack bellowed with laughter as she fought the laces of her boots, struggling to get undressed quick enough for her own pride's sake.

Wheeljack felt his optics warm as he looked down on her stripping out of her clothing with reckless abandon, and he felt his spark swell with territorial love. Feeling the love that no doubt Bulkhead had felt towards the young girl, Wheeljack knew that she was swindling her way into his spark at an alarming rate. She was the sparkling he never had, and as she finally peeled her sticking leggings from her sweating body, his lips tipped up. Yes, she was his charge, and he'd protect her with his life.

Miko grinned impishly up at Wheeljack. "I—I'm streaking! Look at me!" She laughed, completely naked except for her underwear which was unsurprisingly black and red striped boy shorts. She pouted her lips, cocked an eyebrow, and put her hands on her hips. "Tell me, Jackie—aren't I sexy?"

"Like a femme with high grade," Wheeljack confirmed with a thumbs up.

She was ridiculous. But that was something else he loved about her. As she began to laugh and play around in the sands, Wheeljack felt his spark swell at the sight of her.

She was special. Precious. And she was his charge. Admitting it to himself, Wheeljack finally allowed himself to embrace the thought:

Dreadwing could wait. Miko was his most important priority.

And, she was currently giddy with silliness. She whooped, running off and pumping her fists to the sky excitedly.

"It's too hot for clothes anyway!"