May the Road Be Solid Beneath You
What the heck? A fic with no Protectobots? *blink blink*
Title: May the Road Be Solid Beneath You
Rating: K
Character: Silverbolt, Wheeljack
Summary: Wheeljack's heading out, Silverbolt realizes some things. Just a quick bit of fluff with a tinge of angst for flavor.
Word Count: 742
Silverbolt leaned in the doorway to Wheeljack’s lab, watching as the engineer packed another crate of tools and supplies (some Silverbolt knew the name of, some so intricate and ominous looking he really wasn’t sure he wanted to know), humming softly to himself.
“You’re really going, aren’t you.”
Wheeljack looked up in surprise. “Silverbolt! I didn’t see you standing there. Come on in, kiddo. It’s safe enough, long as you watch where you put your foot components.” His optics and vocal indicators both flashed a welcoming blue.
Silverbolt picked his way carefully through the coils of cables and crates and assorted debris to perch on one of the sturdy work tables, after gingerly scooting another suspicious pile over to clear a space. Wheeljack surveyed his glum expression for a moment before coming over and casually dumping the rest of the table’s contents into another crate. He sat next to the Aerialbot and patted him comfortingly on the knee.
‘Yeah, I’m really going. It won’t be forever, kiddo. You’ll be fine.”
“Ten vorns,” Silverbolt said despairingly, feeling more like a lost sparkling than a soldier, leader of the Autobot’s one and only gestalt team. It might as well be eternity.
Wheeljack chuckled, never one to cater to any of Silverbolt’s attempts at self-pity. “I won’t be gone the whole time. Once the major part of the project is underway I should be able to sneak back for a visit now and then.”
“I sure hope this project is worth it,” Silverbolt said, with a long sigh.
“Oh, it will be.”
Silverbolt glanced at him sidelong, and had to smile at the excited, almost mischievous sparkle to Wheeljack’s optics. He’d never seen Wheeljack quite this…buoyant before. Not that the engineer was ever anything less than upbeat, but tinkering and experimenting in his workshop, and now this new project…he could see how completely Wheeljack was in his element. Not having to constantly worry about five contrary jets with still-wet-between-the-joints paint jobs probably had something to do with it as well.
“You gave up a lot to take care of us, didn’t you.” Especially through their first several vorns, Wheeljack had been with them almost constantly. How many projects had he put on hold, how many of his own plans and desires had he put aside? And they certainly hadn’t made it easy on him, or shown him much in the way of appreciation. Silverbolt was ashamed it had taken him this long to realize it. He didn’t even want to imagine where he and his brothers would be now, without Wheeljack.
“I suppose I did.” Wheeljack shifted a little so that his shoulder bumped lightly against Silverbolt’s wing. “But I gained a lot, too.”
“You didn’t have to; we weren’t supposed to be your problem.”
“Aw, you were never problems, kiddo. More like…challenges. Of unprecedented complexity. I’m glad we managed to bumble through everything together.” Wheeljack wrapped an arm around him with the ease of one who had much practice hugging jets with inconvenient wings in the way. “No regrets. It was worth it.” Silverbolt leaned into the embrace, feeling comforted despite the lingering guilty sense that he and his brothers had really gotten the better part of the bargain.
“And, y’know, I do believe I’d do it all over again, given the chance,” Wheeljack added, and when Silverbolt looked over the engineer’s optics were twinkling with a sort of inexplicable mirth. Wheeljack chuckled at his puzzled expression. “Primus, I’m gonna miss you guys,” he said, and squeezed Silverbolt a little tighter. In it Silverbolt felt everything Wheeljack did not say, that despite his cheerful, solid confidence in them the war wasn’t ending any time soon, that there was always the chance they might not see each other again.
“Slingshot doesn’t want to come to say good bye, but it’s not because he doesn’t care. We’re going to drag him anyway.”
“I’ll be sure to take full note that he’s only there under duress, then.” Wheeljack laughed. “Wouldn’t want to dent his reputation.”
“Thank you, Wheeljack,” Silverbolt said, glad that it came out deep and steady, like the self-assured commander he was supposed to be. He reached over and pulled Wheeljack all the way over in a tight hug. “Thank you for everything. Crazy inventor,” he added, before the rising swell of emotion had him wailing like a sparkling.
“Crazy jet.” Wheeljack hugged him back, and perhaps his own voice was not completely steady. “Stay safe.”
Title: May the Road Be Solid Beneath You
Rating: K
Character: Silverbolt, Wheeljack
Summary: Wheeljack's heading out, Silverbolt realizes some things. Just a quick bit of fluff with a tinge of angst for flavor.
Word Count: 742
Silverbolt leaned in the doorway to Wheeljack’s lab, watching as the engineer packed another crate of tools and supplies (some Silverbolt knew the name of, some so intricate and ominous looking he really wasn’t sure he wanted to know), humming softly to himself.
“You’re really going, aren’t you.”
Wheeljack looked up in surprise. “Silverbolt! I didn’t see you standing there. Come on in, kiddo. It’s safe enough, long as you watch where you put your foot components.” His optics and vocal indicators both flashed a welcoming blue.
Silverbolt picked his way carefully through the coils of cables and crates and assorted debris to perch on one of the sturdy work tables, after gingerly scooting another suspicious pile over to clear a space. Wheeljack surveyed his glum expression for a moment before coming over and casually dumping the rest of the table’s contents into another crate. He sat next to the Aerialbot and patted him comfortingly on the knee.
‘Yeah, I’m really going. It won’t be forever, kiddo. You’ll be fine.”
“Ten vorns,” Silverbolt said despairingly, feeling more like a lost sparkling than a soldier, leader of the Autobot’s one and only gestalt team. It might as well be eternity.
Wheeljack chuckled, never one to cater to any of Silverbolt’s attempts at self-pity. “I won’t be gone the whole time. Once the major part of the project is underway I should be able to sneak back for a visit now and then.”
“I sure hope this project is worth it,” Silverbolt said, with a long sigh.
“Oh, it will be.”
Silverbolt glanced at him sidelong, and had to smile at the excited, almost mischievous sparkle to Wheeljack’s optics. He’d never seen Wheeljack quite this…buoyant before. Not that the engineer was ever anything less than upbeat, but tinkering and experimenting in his workshop, and now this new project…he could see how completely Wheeljack was in his element. Not having to constantly worry about five contrary jets with still-wet-between-the-joints paint jobs probably had something to do with it as well.
“You gave up a lot to take care of us, didn’t you.” Especially through their first several vorns, Wheeljack had been with them almost constantly. How many projects had he put on hold, how many of his own plans and desires had he put aside? And they certainly hadn’t made it easy on him, or shown him much in the way of appreciation. Silverbolt was ashamed it had taken him this long to realize it. He didn’t even want to imagine where he and his brothers would be now, without Wheeljack.
“I suppose I did.” Wheeljack shifted a little so that his shoulder bumped lightly against Silverbolt’s wing. “But I gained a lot, too.”
“You didn’t have to; we weren’t supposed to be your problem.”
“Aw, you were never problems, kiddo. More like…challenges. Of unprecedented complexity. I’m glad we managed to bumble through everything together.” Wheeljack wrapped an arm around him with the ease of one who had much practice hugging jets with inconvenient wings in the way. “No regrets. It was worth it.” Silverbolt leaned into the embrace, feeling comforted despite the lingering guilty sense that he and his brothers had really gotten the better part of the bargain.
“And, y’know, I do believe I’d do it all over again, given the chance,” Wheeljack added, and when Silverbolt looked over the engineer’s optics were twinkling with a sort of inexplicable mirth. Wheeljack chuckled at his puzzled expression. “Primus, I’m gonna miss you guys,” he said, and squeezed Silverbolt a little tighter. In it Silverbolt felt everything Wheeljack did not say, that despite his cheerful, solid confidence in them the war wasn’t ending any time soon, that there was always the chance they might not see each other again.
“Slingshot doesn’t want to come to say good bye, but it’s not because he doesn’t care. We’re going to drag him anyway.”
“I’ll be sure to take full note that he’s only there under duress, then.” Wheeljack laughed. “Wouldn’t want to dent his reputation.”
“Thank you, Wheeljack,” Silverbolt said, glad that it came out deep and steady, like the self-assured commander he was supposed to be. He reached over and pulled Wheeljack all the way over in a tight hug. “Thank you for everything. Crazy inventor,” he added, before the rising swell of emotion had him wailing like a sparkling.
“Crazy jet.” Wheeljack hugged him back, and perhaps his own voice was not completely steady. “Stay safe.”