TITLE: Proving Ground,
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: hard R (maybe light NC-17)
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okami_myrrhibis


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With his new powers, Will Lennox had seen the need to train what had previously never been at his disposal: creating energy masses in his hands. Energy balls, as he sometimes called them, though they weren’t perfectly round, nor as dense as a ball. More like a bubble filled with a very explosive and lethal form of energy. Flung at something they could scorch, crack or even fracture, and maybe even more.

It was what Will had come out here to train.

‘Here’ was the deserted landscape of the Yuma desert, more specifically the KOFA Range Complex of the Yuma Proving Ground. It was where all the firing ranges were, so an explosion more or less didn’t really matter. He had been given free choice of where to go and Will had decided on a rocky terrain, near the mountain range, where he would be left undisturbed. A wide area around it had been declared a no-go zone and surveillance had been shut down.

He was alone.

The way he wanted it.

Dressed in black jeans and a black shirt, wearing sturdy hiking boots, and only carrying a backpack with him, Lennox didn’t look like a soldier out for a fight. He looked like a tourist. If not for the plainly visible runes, he might have passed as one.

The heat of the day didn’t affect him. Not in a way it would affect a human. He was a hybrid, able to withstand the most extreme of climates without needing to dress appropriately, and if the situation got life-threatening, his body had a rather alien but very handy way of protecting itself. His skin would turn the color of the Allspark, his eyes would morph into a bright glacial blue, and the final stage, one he controlled very well by now, was the transformation into a protoform.

Right now, none of that was needed.

Safely away from the jeep he had been given as his ride Will prepared himself for a new training session.

That Ironhide was not around was mainly because Lennox didn’t know what could happen if he increased his energy output, something he did according to an exercise plan he had created himself. He didn’t know if he might hurt his partner. He had to be alone and Ironhide had accepted it. The weapons specialist was at the Autobot base in Nevada, which was a huge step for him. A few years, hell, even a few months ago he might have insisted on coming to Yuma, too.

Will smiled to himself as he chose a spot. He was surrounded by sand, rock, scarce vegetation, and insects. A few miles to the north were the mountains. A rather lonely formation of rock stood about a quarter mile from him, about the size of Optimus Prime, several times his width, and very, very hard.

He opened his right hand, palm up, and concentrated on the energy he could collect there. Blue light followed his summoning, beautiful but deadly.

Regarding the bubble that flickered and fizzed, he willed it to condense, forming more of a ball than before, then he spread his fingers wide. His finger tips sparked and he brought up his left hand to let it hover over the energy bubble. It enlarged, filling the space, and he willed it down again.

His body began to thrum. He knew the signs. He was amassing too much energy and he had learned the hard way that reabsorbing it was a) painful and b) not a good idea.

Not at all.

He had the bruises to prove it and to get bruises, the hybrid had to be hit hard. There was also a rocky outcropping that had undergone reconstruction due to impact not two miles from here.

So Will let the energy go.

It hissed across the plains and struck the ground, creating a crater the size of an Olympic size swimming pool, though more shallow.

Lennox felt his body relax, but the energy lines were open and he had access to much more than this.

Day 5 and he was getting a lot better at control.

Again he let the energy coalesce, again he released it. Again something was struck hard and was remodeled. While it was violent, it wasn’t the strength of an armor-piercing round; mech armor, that was. He could do those, too. He had once punched a hole through Ironhide’s shoulder armor and that had been the end of that particular sparring. But today he had come here for another experiment, one that was more than dangerous to his surroundings, and he was glad Ironhide trusted him enough not to sneak after his partner and watch.

Will scanned the horizon.

No one around.

Good.

Concentrating on the energy in his body, eyes on the once again visible, unmoving runes on the back of his hands, he let it rise.

Not in his hands.

Not around his fingers.

He let his whole body turn into a super-conductor that amassed energy until he could feel his nerves screaming with it. Will’s eyes glowed a bright blue, inhuman and still nothing like an Autobot’s optics. He raised his hands, arms trembling under the effort, and directed the mass of energy at the rock formation.

Lennox didn’t know if he screamed as the energy raced along his arms into his hands. He didn’t know if he actually saw anything real or just images created by the intense light. He could only hear the screech of energy as it disturbed the otherwise silent desert, then the resounding boom of something big exploding.

Silence again.

Only the sound of tiny pebbles raining to the ground, the ‘whoosh’ of sand and dust.

Nothing else.

Finally the cracking of cooling stone not far away.

Will staggered, feeling weak and drained, but he wasn’t anywhere near a collapse.

He gazed through the dust and when it had finally settled enough – the rocks were gone. Obliterated. Liquefied in places.

“Geez,” he whispered, voice rough.

Something crunched behind him.

High-strung on adrenaline and whatever else was coursing through his hybrid body, Will whirled around and raised his hands, palms thrust outward. A shockwave blew across the desert, flattening bushes and trees, whirling up sand in tiny dust storms – and pushing a twenty-two foot mechanoid off his feet and onto his back. A startled noise escaped the mech in question and red optics flared in a dark face.

No weapons came out. No aggressive moves were made.

Will panted, tension sizzling through him, muscles locked in a fighting stance, energy lancing around his fingers. Finally his mind came out of the battle lock mode and his eyes widened. Back to their normal color once more, only the stationary runes speaking of his hybrid status, he stared at the newcomer.

“Whoa!” the mech exclaimed. He pushed himself up, a bit unsteady but uninjured. There wasn’t a crack or dent in sight.

“Shit,” Will whispered.

Shit for two reasons. One, he had attacked an ally. Two, the ally had no clue who he was. Actually, Lennox had never met one of the Constructicons. He was like the Autobots’ last secret to be kept. With the five new mechs either at the YPG or on the Ark to work it into a satellite station, chance of contact had been minimal. Very minimal – until now.

He stepped back, aware that even if he hid his hands that were covered in runes and glyphs, the ones on his arms, crawling over naked skin, or on his face couldn’t be hidden. And the mech had already seen them. Red optics scanned over him, followed by a physical scan – that was reflected right back at him with a force that told of Will’s defenses still being active. Scanning the hybrid was usually a difficult matter at the best of times, when Lennox was cooperating, but now there was nothing the Constructicon could pick up. Nothing at all.

Rubbing the side of his head, the mech shook himself a little.

“Not fond of scans?” he asked, sounding slightly amused.

“No,” Will answered tersely.

“Then I apologize. I was just… surprised.”

And knocked flat on his ass.

Will didn’t reply, not relaxing his stance.

They regarded each other. The red optics were flickering along the runes, visibly beyond surprised to see them, identifying them as what they were.

“Allspark,” he murmured. “Impossible.”

Will felt his whole body coil into fight mode.

“What are you?” the mech demanded.

“Not the Allspark,” was the level answer.

The Constructicon rumbled uneasily, then shook his head. “No, you’re not. You’re also no one I or the others were briefed on.”

“It’s not common knowledge.”

“I can see that.”

Then the Constructicon that Will finally identified as Scavenger sat down. It was a surprising move and it had Lennox shift with indecision.

“You know who I am?” Scavenger asked.

“Yes. Scavenger. Constructicon.”

“Then you have an advantage. I don’t your name at all. You are human, correct? Despite the way you look.”

Another shift and his mind was racing. Optimus Prime trusted them. Sam had been inside their minds and seen no danger. Only Lennox’s unique… physical status had been the reason he had never met them.

“I’m Will.”

Scavenger nodded. “Your skin reflects Allspark code and Cybertronian writing. Old languages, long forgotten.”

Will blinked. “You can read the Ancient language?”

Scavenger chuckled and shook his head. “I might be old, but not that old. I don’t think anyone’s still left to understand most of what you reflect. The cosmic code was never understood, but the language of the Ancients was studied by only a few. They probably perished and with them their libraries. War makes no exception on that. I know a few symbols. They hardly make any sense.”

Will felt his head reeling, but he tried not to show it.

“Why are you here?” he finally demanded.

Scavenger cocked his head. “I was testing a new force shield. A small version of it anyway.”

“Force shield?”

“For the Ark. She has to be protected. Scrapper, Long Haul and Mixmaster are currently working on her defense systems and Hook and I devised a way to keep her from collapsing under heavy fire.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Scavenger kept looking curiously at him. Lennox refused to be baited. Finally something flared inside the red optics, a kind of flare that had Will on edge once more.

“You were Soundwave’s target.”

Lennox stepped back, a crackle of energy racing over his index and middle finger of his right hand. Scavenger raised a hand.

“No, please. I’m not your enemy, Will. But now the information we gathered all that time ago makes sense. Because of Soundwave’s intrusion into the data bases we found a way to contact the Autobots and ask for refuge, for a way to heal or perish peacefully. Hook had found scraps of what Soundwave was trying to find, but it made no sense. The Allspark was destroyed, there was nothing left. The few files speaking of a shard were inconclusive and it was later reported as destroyed.” He leaned forward. “It wasn’t, was it?”

Lennox’s mind raced and he finally exhaled sharply. The Constructicons were allies. Their allies. His allies.

“No, it wasn’t. I was hit with it. Went right into me, through skin and bone, and disappeared.” He held up a hand devoid of energy flickers or sparks, but covered in stationary runes. “Ever since I’m the walking bill board of ancient runes.”

Scavenger nodded once. “You have… additional skills, though.”

Lennox smiled wryly. “Yeah.”

“You could have turned me into scrap metal like you did with the natural formation.”

Will shook his head. “No. A few weeks ago maybe. I’ve been training on and off and it’s getting easier to moderate my energy output to stun and not kill upon surprising me.”

Scavenger chuckled. “A very useful skill.”

“Yeah.” Another wry smile. “Any damage?”

“No. Just a few shocked systems that have already rebooted.”

“Sorry.”

Another shake of his head. “You reacted very well. I take it the intent was to melt the rocks?”

Will nodded.

“You still used too much energy.”

“Working on that.”

“You need a way to measure your output. You need feedback on the strength of each blast.”

Lennox frowned. “What are you saying?” he asked suspiciously.

Scavenger smiled. “Like I said, I’m testing a force shield. I think we can combine our efforts, so to speak.”

Will blinked. That actually made sense…

“We can clear this through Prime or Jazz,” Scavenger went on. “I’m sure Hook would be interested in the readings we get on our creation when it’s put under pressure from an energy we haven’t considered yet. While you don’t register as Allspark energy, it’s not exactly Cybertronian either.”

Lennox grimaced. “I’m a hybrid. Go figure.”

Scavenger rose. “So you agree?”

Will hesitated. This was a unique chance. The Constructicons knew what they were doing, were masters of their trade. If anyone could do this, it was them. And he had nothing to lose.

“Let’s do it,” Will finally agreed.

In his mind another option formed, one for later. Much later.

The Constructicon transformed and followed Lennox in his jeep.

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They started out small. A day after Scavenger’s surprise discovery of Lennox in the desert, after clearing matters through Jazz, Will found himself in the desert once more, this time accompanied by two military vehicles that transformed into Hook and Scavenger.

Hook, like Scavenger, had made the mistake to scan him, and he had been more than startled to get the scan slammed back into his face. Both Constructicons had been briefed on who Will Lennox had been and who he was. The information would be given to the three other members of the team up on the Ark upon their return as well. Neither had been terribly upset about this missing information. They understood assets and secrets only too well.

Lennox found that Hook was the ‘absorbed scientist’ kind. Give him something complicated to build or design and he was in his own world. The basic plans for the force shield had come from Scavenger, then Hook had taken over and fine-tuned everything to perfection. He was still twisting and tweaking parts, but Scavenger was the more hands-on type who kept trying each model in the desert to see where it led them.

Now Will was their way into testing it for real, and for Lennox it was the first chance to get clear readings on his abilities.

‘Small’ meant that energy bubbles were flung at a rock formation under the force shield. About twenty by thirty feet in size, the force shield was invisible. When hit with a blast it would briefly turn a bluish-white and then clear again. Scavenger’s idea had been to absorb blasts and let them flow harmlessly off their creation. Hook had perfected the idea by adjusting the generators to use the blast energy to fuel the shield. There was a safety mechanism that would bleed off excess energy, but so far that had blown up each time.

“Have you ever exerted yourself?” Scavenger asked between trials as Hook muttered Cybertronian curses at a once again blown circuit.

“Depends on what you define as ‘exertion’. I get tired, feel drained, but I’m still able to defend myself to a degree.” Will hesitated. “I never tried real battle situations before.”

Scavenger nodded. “You keep generating bursts. Have you upheld an energy release?”

“In bubble form. I can condense it into a projectile that can blow off your head, yeah. Problem is I can’t reabsorb it. That knocks me over, into a mountain side.” He grimaced.

Scavenger looked amused, but also curious. “A disadvantage. How often have you tried reabsorbstion?”

“Once. That was painful enough.”

“You might have to train that again. There could be situations where blasting something is not the answer, but the threat can bring you the necessary leverage.”

“I know.” Lennox shrugged. “Not high on my list of favorites, though.”

“Understandable. Back to the continuous energy flow: I’d like you to try it. Rocks can’t withstand it, but the force shield can be adjusted. We bleed off all energy instead of running it into the generators.”

Hook looked up from his work, clearly not pleased. “It could destroy everything, Scavenger,” he criticized.

“Or it could give us the necessary data to find the fault in our calculations. It also gives Will the chance to try out something he can’t train otherwise.”

Hook huffed, still not pleased, but he relented.

So they went from small to friggin’ big.

Very big.

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Scavenger took note of the human hybrid’s attack, his energy output, his stance, his very expression. His fascination with the hybrid knew no end and while there was no way to scan him, he had collected data every other available way. Before they had actually started on the training he had consulted with Ratchet, had learned some things about Will Lennox, and he had adjusted their combined training for it. Hook, while interested, was far more concerned about the force shield to concentrate on their training partner.

Each little step forward was duly noted and a report sent to Ratchet. The Autobot medic was always curious about the hybrid’s development.

Energy flared and touched Scavenger’s sensitive scanners. Hook was still adjusting the field to their latest experiment, and Scavenger turned to watch Lennox. As before, the energy collected. While powerful, destructive if he wanted it to be; so alien and unknown it actually frightened the Constructicon a little, and still so controlled, it was beautiful to watch. Lennox had incredible control over this ability and it spoke of his will-power, his past training, his concentration and seriousness. He had been a soldier once, a specially trained one, and it still showed.

Raising his hands, Will targeted the force shield and then released the bright lance of energy, in the shape of highly concentrated bubbles, so tiny they appeared to be one thick blast instead of countless, microscopic shapes.

The lance hit the shield.

It wavered, but absorbed the energy.

The hybrid kept up the stream. He wasn’t sending single blasts, he was maintaining an ever-increasing output. It was something they had tried before, but never to this extent.

Hook adjusted the field to strengthen.

Will adjusted his own attack. He was in a secure stance, Scavenger noted. Good.

Brown eyes had a pin-point of blue in their depth. Runes, stationary on his hands, were active otherwise.

Again the force shield wavered and Hook adjusted. Scavenger looked at the readings and was surprised to notice that they were reaching capacity.

The energy turned a whiter blue, the core darkening.

“We’re past the last test’s limit,” Hook reported calmly.

“Shield?”

“Holding.”

Lennox increased again. Scavenger felt a flare of alarm as the human’s skin turned… darker. It wasn’t his imagination that it took on the color of burned gold, bronze and dark brown to almost black. The eyes flared bright blue, impossibly bright even. Brighter than an optic. Everything changed as smooth skin looked like Allspark surface and the runes fit seamlessly into their new environment.

Hook looked up at Scavenger’s hiss of alarm, optics flaring with the same alarm, just before an energy field flared around the hybrid and surges of electric fire licked over the transformed skin. There was no sound coming from Will, but the screech of energy intensified just before the force shield reached capacity.

It wavered.

It crackled.

It gave way with a scream of clashing energies.

Scavenger picked himself up from where he had been blasted by the shockwave, optics clearing quickly. He discovered Hook nearby, a stunned expression on his face.

Where the force shield had been there was nothing. Not even fragments of the rock it had protected. The ground had been liquefied and had somehow instantly forming a glistening, obsidian black surface. Energy danced in the air like flies, only slowly disappearing into nothingness. His scanners were reeling from the output and while the control station still stood, it had suffered a massive overload.

“Scavenger?” Hook queried, sounding shaken.

“I’m fine. A few rattled systems.”

Hook nodded, acknowledging that he wasn’t off any worse either.

Scavenger looked for Will and found a motionless figure lying where the hybrid had stood before. Looking human once more, only his skin decorated with glyphs that pulsed and moved lazily – a lot less than before – Will Lennox appeared unconscious. Scavenger hauled himself to his feet and quickly walked over to their ally. Hook followed, though he probably itched to get the readings checked out.

“Will?” Scavenger called.

Fingers twitched and energy crackled weakly between them.

“Will!”

A groan followed and Scavenger waited, not even thinking about touching the human hybrid. He had no idea what kind of automatic defenses he might have. Given the nature of his body, the way the Allspark shard had formed him, it wasn’t unthinkable.

“Will, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” came the weak cough. “Aw, hell.”

Lennox rolled around, blinking dazedly at the Constructicon towering over him. He raised a hand and gazed at the stationary runes.

“What hit me?”

“I believe you did the hitting,” Hook remarked dryly.

Lennox turned his head and suddenly sat up, which elicited another groan, at the sight of the annihilated rocks.

“Holy mother of…! That was me?!”

Scavenger chuckled, still keeping his distance. “Yes. Until we go through the data I can’t say what it was exactly that happened in the last five seconds, but it tells us two things. One, the force shield needs modifications. And two, you just reached capacity. For now.”
Brown eyes narrowed and stared at the mech. “For now?” Lennox echoed, voice sounding odd.

“Ratchet gave me your file. I know of your developments so far. I believe your body keeps adjusting and this last surge was… new.”

The human got to his feet, swaying. He automatically reached out for something, which happened to be Scavenger’s leg. Expecting an energy jolt the mech was surprised that he only felt a gentle wave rush through him. Energy yes, but not malicious, aggressive or destructive. Simply energy.

“We will stop here for today,” he said.

Will nodded, trying to stand on his own feet, which were working out more or less. “Yeah. Good idea. I’m wiped.”

Hook was already dismantling the control station and transformed into his alt mode. Scavenger followed, opening a door to let the hybrid enter. No more energy waves touched him. Will closed his eyes, head thumping against the seat.

“Shit, I’m really wasted.”

“I can’t tell if your life signs are normal or not,” Scavenger commented.

“Not normal. Trust me,” Lennox mumbled.

By the time they were at the base he was asleep and Scavenger adjusted his transformation for Lennox to remain unharmed – he doubted he actually could have harmed the hybrid. He placed him onto a cot and gestured at Hook to leave the human alone.

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Will didn’t just sleep like dead – he was dead. At least he thought he was. Waking up in familiar surroundings – Yuma base, Constructicon home, his brain supplied – he could barely lurch to his feet without keeling over. He had no idea how long he had been out, but it didn’t feel long enough. Staggering a little, he reached out and caught himself on a table. He had to be in the only area of the base that had been adjusted for the odd human visitor. The Constructicons hardly had humans working with them. The work they coordinated with human engineers was conducted via remote connection to the Arctic base or the Autobot base in Nevada. Will had been one of the few to stay for more than an hour or two.

The human-sized facilities had been there when the Constructicons had moved in and they had remodeled everything to their needs, leaving the amenities for humans in only one corner. Right now it was Will’s corner. The corner had a kitchenette and he found coffee and sandwiches, all of which was gratefully consumed.

“Will?”

He looked up from his so comfortable seat and smiled weakly at Scavenger.

“I see you finally woke from recharge.”

“I don’t feel recharged.”

The Constructicon gave him a measuring look, trying to take in the situation without scanning, which was hard for all mechs when it came to Will.

“You were asleep for sixteen hours.”

Will gaped. “What?!”

“I checked with Ratchet. He said you probably exerted yourself and to let you rest. There is nothing he or a human doctor could do for you that your body isn’t able to do for itself. He told me to relay to you that Ironhide won’t know about this until you tell him.” The curiosity visibly doubled. “I take it he is your guardian?”

“Something like that,” Lennox muttered.

Scavenger wisely didn’t push any further. “Hook evaluated the data, both from you and the force shield. Whatever it was you poured into the attack, I would refrain from doing it too often.”

“No kidding!”

Scavenger looked amused. “Aside from the physical drain, it also makes you vulnerable for the enemy to take you out should you not succeed in killing him first.”

“Something like a last chance weapon, hm?”

“Something like it.”

Lennox mulled that over. He knew he was vulnerable, which was why he trained with Ironhide. He couldn’t just rely on blasts, he had to move and be able to counter attacks manually, too.

“Are we done testing the force shield then?” Will finally asked.

“For now. Hook is very happy with what he has and we can all work with the test results.” Scavenger regarded him closely. “Are you done?”

Lennox chewed his lower lip. “With blasting stuff apart? Yeah. Totally. There’s a favor I’d like to ask, though.”

“What favor?”

“Ironhide has been training me in self-defense, in battle strategies, the like. All the moves and how to ward off the enemy physically.”

Scavenger nodded.

“But he’s an Autobot.”

“Clearly,” was the amused reply.

“I want to learn different styles.”

The Constructicon came up slightly, clearly surprised.

“You want a battle?”

“I want training. I want to see if I can take you guys on.”

“Hook and me?” Scavenger asked.

Will looked into the red optics. “No. All five.”

The Constructicon made a startled sound.

“I know the others are coming back in a week. I’ll be back in fighting condition by then.”

“Will…”

“As a favor, Scavenger.”

“You are crazy,” the mech said.

Lennox smiled grimly. “I prefer ‘determined’. I need this, Scavenger.”

A whirr that was close to a sigh escaped the big mech. “Alright. I’ll talk to Scrapper about this.”

“Thanks.”

It got him a humorless smile. “Don’t thank me if your request is granted, Will.”

Lennox smiled more. Scavenger and Hook might have Ratchet’s files on him, but he had a few surprises left. Because he knew Ratchet had left out his ability to change into a protoform shape. And he could do a lot of damage.

He had learned from Ironhide and he had even had the honor of going up against Optimus Prime. He had lost, of course.

It was time to up the ante, to take a new step, and that was to take on someone he hadn’t seen fight before, someone who used a very different style.

The Constructicons.

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The objective had been easy: go from point A to point B. No sweat. Will’s former Army Ranger training had included countless set-ups like this particular one; except for the giant alien robots, sure. He had trained with teams, he had gone through exercises, he had played the enemy and he had played the good guys.

Of course, having five enemies ready to interfere with the objective wasn’t easy. Especially when you were alone and the enemy were the aforementioned alien robots.

The battle field had been chosen inside the KOFA Range, an area where there were sufficient places for ambushes as well as open plain stealth capabilities to test. Lennox had to cross a distance of twenty miles to reach point B, two miles of which were open ground with no cover at all.

It had taken more than a week to clear the whole exercise. Prime had been especially cautious.

“Nothing will happen, Optimus,” Will had reassured him. “Non-lethal fire. None of the guys will shoot to kill and you know I can take a shot.”

Eight years of training with Ironhide had honed his senses, had helped him arm his body and mind. He could withstand an attack.

“I understand your reasoning, Will,” Prime had replied. “I understand the need. I wish there was a better way, though.”

Lennox had refused to give in to the need to remind the Autobot leader that he wasn’t the Allspark, that he wasn’t weak, that his human façade was just that: a façade. Instead he had looked into the ancient optics until Prime had nodded – and also agreed not to tell Ironhide anything. He didn’t need his partner to barge in and try to help.

This was his game.

Scanning the area before him, Will stealthily moved forward. He hadn’t adjusted his form yet, was still human on the outside, but he was ready.

No holds barred.

No lethal energy shots.

Five against one.

He smiled grimly and moved.

This was it.

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Hook had been the first to attack. He had come almost out of nowhere, flying toward Will in his alt mode and blasting up the ground before the human. Will had reacted by instinct, combined with training from Ironhide, and jumped out of the way. He didn’t fire back, just disappeared into the rock crevices and quickly moved to the left, only to be nearly picked up by Scrapper, who had been waiting.

The Constructicon leader got a blast into the face for his surprise attack that blinded him, but even without optics his grab came very close. Will, still relying on his small size, slipped underneath the mech, sprinting away, but was nearly overrun by a returning Hook.

Two well-placed energy bubbles took out two wheels and the Constructicon transformed in mid-skid, slamming both fists like concussion grenades left and right of Will.

Lennox yelled in surprise, back-flipping in a way that reminded one of an Olympic athlete – a non-human one because he did it so fast. Assessing the situation, taking into account that despite their superior physical side the mechs were slower than him, he disappeared back into the labyrinth of rocks, heading away from the target area. Behind him he heard the two Constructicons, one preparing what sounded like…

Shock blast!

Will hunkered down as the storm of noise and dust screeched over him, his skin immediately reacting to the threat and changing. He started running even before the dust had settled, using the low visibility and the distraction sand provided to sensors.

Out of the dust claws grabbed for him and he jumped once more, rolling down a hill head over heels, but on his feet and running again the moment he hit the bottom.

Energy collected in his palms.

The next shape stood no chance and Mixmaster gave a howl of surprise as he was blasted back several feet and crashed into a rock face. Will didn’t wait. He kept on running, eyes on his next cover.

He made it, but he knew he had made a mistake when something landed hard just on top of the rock formation. Long Haul smashed the cover, rock and gravel raining over Will as he took flight, but he was stopped by Scavenger and Hook, who had lain in wait.

Okay, time to bring out the big guns.

He loosed several blasts at the new- arrivals, who scattered, and initiated the complete transformation. Long Haul stumbled back in clear shock as the protoform that had just seconds ago been a human in size and shape whirled around and kicked him hard in the chest. Using the Constructicon’s surprise, Will twisted behind him, using him as a shield as Scrapper tried to shoot the changed enemy. Then he dove away, running.

They were after him.

Either in alt mode or on their feet, and while one shot only grazed him, the other hit him in the back and he fell forward. But Lennox could take more than that. Mixmaster was the unlucky recipient of a new attack once more and Will placed his palm flat over the massive Constructicon’s chest, stunning him. Like a tazer shock to the human system, limbs froze and optics flared, then dimmed.

One down. Four to…

Will bit back a cry of pain as something flew at him and slammed him into the ground, knee against his abdomen, trying to grab his hands.

Mistake, he thought grimly, ignoring the discomfort and pain to send two rather uncoordinated blasts at the enemy perched on him. Hook snarled a curse as he was clipped. He moved to evade a second blow and briefly loosened his hold, which gave Will the opportunity to bring a leg up and kick hard. Hook stumbled off and Lennox blasted him.

Get up. Move.

And he did.

He ran, now much faster than in human shape, dodging blasts. He missed Long Haul’s heavily armored form coming at him and had to evade, which brought him dead center in Hook’s line of fire. With a desperate jump he twisted away, but the concussion blast slammed him into the rocks. He fell forward, feeling winded, shocked, and only survival instinct had him get up.

He had no chance to actually do that because his feet were kicked out from under him as he tried, and Scrapper clamped a vice-like grip around one wrist from behind him. Instead of drawing the arm onto Lennox’s back – which would have given Will the chance to lose another blast – the arm was pulled to the opposite side and against his chest, incapacitating it. Unless he wanted to blast his own shoulder off.

Shooting desperately at Long Haul, who was coming at him, he could only fire two more volleys, one of which barely clipped the Constructicon before Scavenger was upon the remaining hand, forcing it into Scrapper’s second vice-like hand. Will struggled, felt his body charge, ready to blast off the one on his back.

A gun was pressed against his chin and he heard Scrapper’s rumble from behind him. “Over.”
Scavenger, whose gun it was, leaned closer, optics alive with the heat of the battle regarding the protoform hybrid.

“Don’t,” he only said.

Will felt his body shake with the effort not to unload what could only be lethal to everyone. Energy coursed through him, spoiling for a fight, wanting to be unleashed, but he forced it back down. Control. He had control. He wouldn’t kill, wouldn’t injure.

“William Lennox,” Scavenger whispered harshly. “You have control. Use it!”

It was like a slap. An order.

He fought the instinct to fight and finally the sensations lessened.

Nodding once, Scavenger gave his team leader the sign that he could let go of their defeated ‘enemy’. Will let his hands fall to his side, noting distantly that the force Scrapper had exerted had left marks on his protoform body. As he had left marks on their armor. They all showed dents, bruises and even tears, but no structural damage.

Checking on where he was, Lennox found he wasn’t far from point B. Actually, five more miles and he might have won.

Who am I kidding? he thought wryly.

He flexed his aching hands.

“Will?”

He looked at Scrapper, who was still taller than him.

“I’m fine. Bruised but fine. I hope I didn’t do anything too bad to you.”

Mixmaster gave a rumbling laugh. “You pack quite a punch, even in a reduced mode, but no, we’re fine.”

Will chuckled and rotated one shoulder joint. It hurt. “Likewise.”

Hook studied him with interest. “You take on other shapes, too?”

“Nope. This is it.” I hope, he added to himself.

“You don’t transscan?”

“No.”

The Constructicon looked thoughtful, but he didn’t say anything.

With the exercise over – and Will soundly defeated – they walked back to their starting point where Lennox had stowed extra clothes. He changed back, then redressed, and gratefully took Scrapper up on his offer to drive.

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From a point where none of the fighters could see him, Ironhide watched them all go, before he drove off himself, taking a different route.

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Will didn’t know what was worse: the bruises visible all over his body or the accompanying pain. As hard as it was to bruise him, the damage told the story of the fight.

No holds barred. No one had held back.

Wincing, he looked at the badly bruised wrists. Scrapper had clamped down hard enough that he would have easily snapped off a human hand. Very easily. Will’s wrists had withstood the force, simply showing dark red and bluish black bruises. As did his back, his hip, one leg, and there was a big one right across his cheek.

He looked like a boxer who had lost a fight.

Well, he had. Just no boxing involved.

Gingerly pulling on his shirt he bit back a hiss of pain. Someone took the hem of the shirt and pulled down gently. Part of Will wanted to be alarmed, another part somehow recognized the presence behind him. He turned and looked into the unnatural blue eyes of an otherwise perfectly human looking hologram. Ironhide regarded him calmly, not an ounce of anger in his demeanor. He reached out and touched the bruised cheek, trailing it gently down to his chin.

“Idiot,” his partner said softly.

Will blinked. “What?”

“Taking them on.”

Lennox stepped back, anger rising. “If you’ve come here to chew me out, don’t waste energon on a hologram, Ironhide!” he snapped. “You can do that in your natural form.”

Ironhide caught one arm, careful of the bruises.

“I’m not in need of a baby-sitter!” Lennox went on, clearly furious. “I can take care of myself! It was my decision! Mine alone! None of you get to talk me out of it! And if it’s about them being Constructicons, just leave it! I know who they are and they help! I asked them, not the other way around! It was me alone!”

Ironhide tilted his head.

“They didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t ask for! The rules were clear! So just… don’t even start with the ranting!”

“I didn’t come here to ‘chew you out’. I watched.”

Will stopped, clearly caught off-guard, and stared. “What?”

“I watched the battle.”

“Prime told you,” the hybrid deduced flatly, feeling his temper hiss again.

The smirk was very human. “No. He honors a promise, but I’m chief of security. I know what’s going on.”

Lennox narrowed his eyes, not trying to free himself any more. “And you’re not angry,” he stated.

“And I’m not angry.”

“Why?”

“As you said, I’m not your guardian.”

He glared at the humanoid hologram.

“Your choice made sense,” the weapons specialist added.

The frown deepened. Ironhide closed the distance once more.

“You need to train, against different opponents. Scrapper and his team gave you the opportunity to do that. I approve.”

“You do.” It wasn’t a question at all.

Ironhide nodded.

“Me training with former Decepticons.”

“Yes.”

“Who are you and when did you lose your mind?”

Ironhide chuckled softly. “Would you rather have me yell at you?”

Will glared again. “Yeah, actually I do. That’s normal. This… isn’t.”

“You have the right ideas, Will. You need to know what you can do. “But taking on all five at once,” he added, the smirk back, “was a bit excessive.”

Lennox shrugged, wincing again. “Shit,” he whispered.

Ironhide touched him again in a very human way, running an open palm over his uninjured cheek. “Give yourself the time to heal.”

“Oh, you bet I will.”

They both knew that any other human being would have been dead already. The pounding Will had taken in all his forms would have torn him apart had he been a mere human. But he wasn’t. He was a hybrid and he was growing in battle strength and resiliency.

Ironhide bridged the last gap and place a kiss onto Will’s lips.

“You trying something, Hide?” Lennox said softly, grinning as far as the bruise let him painlessly.

“Not now. This is just a promise for later.”

Will felt energy thrum through him, an echo of the hardlight form. He might be wiped, but Ironhide himself had probably accumulated too much energy just watching the battle.

“Later,” he heard himself echo.

It was a promise.

Ironhide accompanied him to the privacy of his human-sized room and Will briefly wondered how close the mech was, but then his battered body reminded him that a bed was preferable to the -- albeit comfortable -- interior of a Topkick. Fully clothed, but sans shoes, he gingerly lay down, not the least bit surprised that his partner stayed.

“Bed’s big enough,” he offered sleepily.

“You’re hurt.”

“Stop being an idiot and get in,” Will muttered.

Ironhide raised an eyebrow in a very human manner, then slipped smoothly behind Will. He carefully wrapped his arms around the slender hybrid and Lennox felt himself relax. A sigh escaped him and he felt sleep drag him down.

The last thing he felt was a gentle kiss against the nape of his neck.

Yeah, Ironhide had been downloading stuff again, he mused, then there was only the nothingness of a dreamless sleep.

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Ironhide didn’t need sleep. His projection wasn’t human or even remotely close to humanoid. It was simply a hardlight holographic rendering of a life-form that allowed him a different kind of interaction with his partner.

A very pleasurable interaction sometimes, he mused with a grin.

Watching Will sleep he felt pride rise inside him. Lennox had proven what was hiding inside him today. Watching the fight Ironhide had seen how far the hybrid had come, and with some more training he might have lasted longer. Of course it had been foolish to ask for five Constructicons to chase him down, but sometimes humans were prone to rash decisions.

So were Cybertronians, he thought ruefully, remembering all those Academy freshmen who had been too cocky, too sure of themselves. Will wasn’t a novice. He had human training, he had learned from Ironhide and the others, but he was proud and confident and he knew he had to keep on developing; evolving.

The runes were quiet, barely there, invisible to the naked eye on most exposed areas, but Ironhide could almost feel the collected energy running down Will’s spine. It was where the stationary runes resided. Touching those areas of skin had incredibly pleasurable effects on them both. The feedback was amazing and Ironhide felt his spark shiver at the memories.

Taking in the bruises he calmed himself. Lennox wasn’t up for anything more strenuous than sleep. They had time. All the time in the world.

Keeping watch over the sleeping form, Ironhide still kept scanners peeled on their surroundings. The Constructicons were healing, two of them were already working on models of the Ark again, and Scrapper had briefly come by, talking to his alt mode, and Ironhide had found he could interact with the former Decepticon more easily than he ever had with Barricade. Maybe it was because there was a difference between the two: Barricade had actively chosen the Decepticon side. Scrapper and his team had been reprogrammed and forced onto a side.

Big difference.

A lone rune flickered over the bare forearm closest to Ironhide and he smiled a little as it disappeared once more. Aligning his body with Will’s, feeling the stationary rune tattoo on his partner’s back respond to the hardlight field, he let himself enjoy the physical closeness.

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Will met up with the Constructicons twelve hours later, feeling a lot better after a long shower, breakfast and a pot of coffee that was strong enough to peel paint. All looked like nothing had happened, the superficial damaged repaired.

“Thanks, guys,” he repeated what he had said before.

Scrapper inclined his head. “It was our pleasure. You have a unique style, Will. Still, I’d advise to take us on slowly.”

He smiled wryly. “Yeah, learned that. But it was an experience that I needed.”

“You’re not bad,” the Constructicon leader told him seriously. “You can hold your own against an enemy. If you should choose to, we’ll train with you again. For now we’re heading back up to the Ark for another ten days.”

“All of you?”

“Yes. The next phase has started and all of us are needed.”

He glanced over to where Hook was bickering with Long Haul over what looked like a 3-D holographic wire model of a section of the Ark’s engine’s. From the sharp gesturing, Hook wasn’t happy. Scrapper’s visor band flashed with a smile of amusement.

“Even if some of the team can’t understand that the finer points of art are lost on a battle station.”

“I heard that!” Hook growled, glaring at his leader.

“Of course.”

Will smiled a little at the exchange. He had a rudimentary knowledge of those five. Ratchet had told him that though the combiner mind no longer existed and they couldn’t form Devastator ever again – now missing all the connections – the Modulator had left connections of a different kind that the medic hadn’t been able to erase. Scrapper and Hook shared such a connection, though Ratchet had been vague what kind of connection it was. Scavenger seemed to be unable to pick up anything from any of his team mates, Mixmaster had a vague sense of him, though. Long Haul refused to talk about the matter.

“I might take you up on that offer,” Lennox now only said.

Scrapper nodded once more, then joined the bickering mechs. Will just walked out of the underground base. Ironhide was already waiting for him and to his surprise, so was Scavenger.

Wish I had a camera, he mused. Ironhide and a former Decepticon standing peacefully side by side, and his partner showed barely any tension.

Wow.

“Ready?” he asked the weapons specialist.

Ironhide transformed and opened the driver side door. “Ready.”

“Scavenger, thanks for the help,” Lennox addressed the huge mech.

“My pleasure. Thank you for agreeing to it.”

Will got into the cab of the Topkick and waved, then Ironhide took off down the dirt road that would lead them back to YPG central. He would come back, he knew. To train on his own, to work on control techniques, to attempt to reabsorb already collected energy without blowing himself into a mountain side, and to repeat the battle game.

Ironhide was silent for the time Will was running those thoughts through his head, and he was only startled out of his musings when the Autobot pulled over, off the road and behind an old gas station that had been abandoned a long time ago.

The hologram formed and Lennox shot the blue-eyed man a quizzical look.

“I’m proud,” Ironhide rumbled. “Of you. Your achievements. Your courage.”

Surprised, the human hybrid didn’t know what to say. Finally he managed a rather uneven, “Ironhide?”

The expression in the holographic face was steady. “I wanted you to know.”

“Uh, okay.”

A tremor passed through the metal body and Will recognized the need to release that energy. He smiled a little in understanding and when Ironhide’s hand brushed over the string of glyphs currently winding around one forearm, he didn’t pull back. Will had learned to adjust to his partner’s sudden bouts of experimental moods. And he knew just how much Ironhide got out of the contact between condensed holographic light and Allspark runes. Especially the ones on his back.

Clothes were shed because unhindered contact with the runes was good. Naked was good. Strong hands pushed him back and Will let his partner lead. Something neither human nor Cybertronian was happening between them, something only for them, something that involved bright glyphs and runes, energy coursing over the holographic form, and the shudder of the metal body around them. The windows were dark, no one could see a thing, and in the approaching night the black Topkick was perfectly hidden. Anyone seeing the vehicle shudder on its shocks would have been curious and bemused. Will, who felt that energy race through him, annihilating thoughts and leaving only intense feelings, didn’t care at all. He simply needed. He needed Ironhide. He needed this. He felt his need reflected with such force, it took the last shred of sanity away, and Ironhide’s low keen pushed him over the edge. Runes flared brightly and his partner rocked hard, caught in the feedback.

The hologram flickered badly, then the human appearance faded to black. Only the inhumanly blue eyes were still recognizable, the rest was a black bipedal form that reflected the cosmic code racing across Will’s skin.

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The aftershocks were pleasure and pain. Will had no idea how Ironhide had been able to reconfigure the interior to create a leathery bed he could stretch out on, but apparently he had had an ounce of thought left.

He caught his breath, moaning softly as obsidian black fingers trailed over his spine. The eddies and ripples had his muscles convulse a little and the pleasure and pain signals drove him insane. Ironhide had discovered this peculiarity a few weeks ago. Will was highly sensitive after this kind of overload and the mech liked to gently torture him with it – because it created the same feedback in Ironhide. The pain wasn’t really pain. It was pleasure. One that couldn’t be turned into another overload because Lennox was exhausted, but it was teasingly good.

Ironhide hummed a little as Will turned on his back, the stationary tattoo out of immediate reach, and simply settled over the prone, naked form.

“Better?” Will asked lazily.

“Much.”

“Good.”

He turned onto his stomach again, giving Ironhide ample opportunity to give into his fascination with the tattoo. As the sensitivity decreased, it was a lazy, patternless caress enjoyed by both.

Will had stopped thinking how different all of this made him, how much of what he had been had been lost. He simply went with the flow, wherever it took him.

“Thinking?” Ironhide rumbled, leaning over him, so solid, so real.

Will smiled into the leather, caught despite. “Kinda.”

Not a bad kind of thinking. Not about the differences, but how being with Ironhide made him feel. How this was it, real and here and now. It was reassurance and safety, it was give and take, it was need and letting go. Ironhide, in his own unique way, had helped him deal with the changes. He didn’t fear the runes any more. He didn’t mind the need he had for the mech. He didn’t care about what others might think of a human-robot relationship. This wasn’t something that could be put into words.

A particular touch had Will shivering and he glanced over his shoulder, catching the mischievous glint in the blue depths.

They were different, yes. Age-wise, by origin, by culture, but they had found something together. They needed each other. He definitely needed his partner. If that made him weak, so be it. Lennox didn’t feel weak. He didn’t mind letting Ironhide lead. There were no roles in their encounters and each new step was a revelation for the both of them.

Comparing this with what he had had with Sarah wouldn’t do either relationship justice. Major William Lennox had been human. Will Lennox was a hybrid.

Ironhide drew deft fingers up his spine to his shoulder blades, making him squirm and voice his pleasure in a gasped, “Ironhide!”

Damn those runes!

The cab resounded with the mech’s chuckle.

“Not worn out enough?” Lennox challenged.

“Are you?”

Shit, what a stupid question! Runes flared in an answer he hadn’t even formulated in his head that clearly and Ironhide hummed his approval. They didn’t have to be anywhere right now and Will didn’t care if they were. Energy collected in the runes and Ironhide shuddered.

“Evil,” he murmured.

“Get used to it, Hide.”

The hardlight hologram leaned forward, catching his lips and he responded automatically. Pushing the palm of one hand flat against the obsidian chest, pulses of runes making Ironhide moan. He liked that sound. He liked the Here and Now. He wouldn’t change his past for anything.

Ever.

Will’s world turned white with the approaching overload and he let himself fall. In his mind a word rose, but it didn’t fit them. It was a human description for a human relationship. They were more.

He whispered Ironhide’s name in perfect Cybertronian, heard his own echoed in the mech’s own tongue. Will smiled; content, happy, home wherever Ironhide was.

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Hope it was worth the wait!


fin for this story
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