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"5:49pm" you read in bright white letters on your digital clock mounted to the pale gray wall as you entered your house and took of your shoes at the door.
Classes ended early today because of an impending blizzard. In the desert out of all places? To you it seemed impossible, ridiculous. Well, what would you know about Nevada weather, you just moved here. You were transferred out here from New York City to temporarily work here in Jasper, and though you appreciate the peaceful desert environment, quiet town and fresh air, it can be quite dead around here most of the time.
That was, until you were almost run over by Smokescreen, who thought he had actually hit you, and panic-transformed to see if you were still alive. You then immediately fainted upon witnessing a giant robot before you and woke up on a couch in a military base, met the Autobots, got scoffed at by Ratchet, got yelled at by Fowler, and well, the rest was history.
Optimus had assigned Wheeljack as your guardian, to both of your dismay, as if you even needed one to begin with. You’re twenty-one, you live alone, you’re self-sufficient. You don't need anyone taking care of you. Optimus insisted, since you needed protection from the Decepticons now that you knew of the Autobots existence. Wheeljack accepted, but didn't even want you around at first, despite the fact that hurt a little, you remained indifferent, at least on the outside. That was three months ago. He's only begun to tolerate you now, and you returned such feelings. He talks to you sometimes, but not too often. He's usually on the other side of the world kicking Decepticon ass, somehow involved in a suspicious explosion anywhere else, or working on his ship.
You can't refute the fact that he's like you, in many ways. You’ve always flown solo since you were a teenager, both out of unfortunate circumstance and personal preference. But, as most things are, the two of you are in many ways, very different.
Around eight days ago, you had fractured a rib after falling over a railing at work. So, you've been home, worrying about how you’re going to pay your bills, and searching for things to distract you from your stress. Your grades weren’t the best, and now, dropping due to your injury. You weren't getting much sleep and have been rationing food. You haven't heard from Wheeljack at all. He hasn't even called to ask if you’re alright. I mean, he's probably super busy with team Prime and all...why would he have time for you? It's not like you’re a priority to him anyway. You tried not to dwell too much on that, but for some reason, you couldn't get him out of your mind...it's stupid, but you think you’re starting to like him, in ways that aren't normal. You’ve tried to fistfight your growing attachment to him, but your emotions really brought a gun to the fight.
You think, I’m just a human, small and unable to really even help in Team Prime's efforts, why in the nine layers of hell would he even be interested in me? He got along with amazing people. Bulkhead is a Wrecker like him, big, strong, brave. You also noticed he'd taken a liking to Arcee as well. Deadly, gorgeous, a force to be reckoned with. Shit, you’d date her too.
You shake your head.
You walk into your kitchen and start the coffee machine, and head to your room to change your clothes. It may be below freezing out, but it's hot in here, and you enjoy feeling the cold as strange as that sounds. It's also helping to numb the pain currently afflicting your body. You leave on only an orange cropped tank top and black joggers.
You stare at yourself in the mirror. Messy h/c hair, dark circles, gash on your cheek that will certainly leave a scar, tired e/c eyes. You stare at your body. Your shoulders are hunched, your skin scratched from the fall, bruised torso. You think you look awful for now. You’re contempt with your general appearance, though you don't consider yourself exactly beautiful. Unlike snow in the desert, you’re nothing extraordinary.
You decide to check up on your plants. You have a small indoor greenhouse you had built in an empty room of your house, with irrigation systems, full spectrum lights, glass panes and everything. It was your comfort space, your little green paradise amongst a landscape of sand and stone, something you were immensely proud of. You mindlessly wander around and run your s/c hands across broad leaves and over delicate flowers. Your thoughts drift back to Wheeljack as you spot a red and white Dahlia blooming against rich green foliage. It reminded you of his paint job. You gently hold it in your hands. Why can't you just ignore him? You water the remaining plants and walk back to the kitchen.
You grab a coffee and sit down at your dining table, which is covered with textbooks, assignments, bills, empty water bottles, medicine, food wrappers, and other random crap you hadn't put away. You open your laptop and begin working on the research paper you had been postponing for days.
- 4 hours later -
You heard a loud knocking at your door, which stirred you from your nap. You had fallen asleep on the table. You rub your face and slowly stood up. Your joints cracked and you audibly went "ooh" at the noise. You really are hitting your forties at twenty-one huh? You looked at the clock. Who the hell was knocking at my door at almost 10pm? You then proceeded to the door with caution and looked through the peephole.
Holy shit.
It was Wheeljack, but smaller?
You blinked several times to really confirm that he was there, and this wasn't some fatigue-induced hallucination. After validating reality, you slowly opened the door.
"Wheeljack?" You asked, happy to see him, upset to see him, and confused to see him.
"Hey there tiny, can I come in?" He replied in that suave baritone voice of his. Music to your ears.
"Of course, but uhh…why are you so small?"
"Mass displacement" he said nonchalantly as he entered your house, helm and shoulders lightly dusted with snow.
It was so strange looking at him from a proper height. Now that you could look at him entirely up close, you found him even more physically attractive. He also had new scratch marks on his wings and upper arms, you wondered how he got those. As he passed by, you felt heat radiating from his frame, probably due to him driving out here. The snow on his frame practically evaporated.
"Cute little place you got here, y/n." He said as you shut out the freezing night.
"Why are you here?" You queried. Your heart started pounding uncontrollably as he turned around and faced you. Those turquoise optics were like two tiny suns, each burning holes into your s/c skin. Your own e/c eyes met his, and for a few brief seconds that felt like an eternity, his gaze remained locked on yours. You were going to go into cardiac arrest.
"Heard ya got hurt. Wanted to make sure you were still breathin', though I was sure you'd be fine" he started and shot you a cocky smile. You let out an internal sigh of relief.
"Thanks, but you're eight days late." You playfully retorted. Eight days dude, great timing.
"I was on a stealth recon mission, didn't mean to ignore ya."
Oh. You stayed silent.
"So, what happened?" he said and sat down on your couch. This was...surreal. You swear, you had to be dreaming, right? Was a six-and-a-half-foot-tall version of Wheeljack really sitting on your couch at night during a fucking snowstorm? You blinked quickly again and stared at him.
"y/n?"
You snapped back to the present.
"Sorry."
You walked towards him, and he patted down on the space next to him, signaling for you to join to him. Your heart was graciously letting you know it was working, because it was about to burst through your rib cage. You explained to him what happened. You kind of ended up rambling to him a bit. He just sat there, and attentively listened to every word you vomited out. That's one thing you really love about him. Though he probably never listened to Ultra Magnus, he'd sometimes listen to you.
You started to get emotional. Perhaps it was your overwhelming stress, or your feelings for him, the pain meds, or your fatigue, or some unholy combination of all of the above. You started feeling your anxiety spike, and you felt like crying. You guess he noticed. You stared at the floor, lost in your own tumultuous thoughts.
"Hey, ya okay?"
"I don't feel so well."
He raised an optic ridge.
You couldn't refrain from crying anymore, a few small tears spilled out. You put my head in your hands to hide and quickly tried to wipe your tears away. You thought you probably seemed so fragile to him in the moment. Small creature, your problems are so insignificant compared to his. You felt Wheeljack shift next to you, and a metal arm drape over your body. You were so exhausted, you didn't even protest, and just fell into him. He didn't say a word, but remained tense, you could feel it. You closed your eyes and continued to silently cry until you ran dry. You felt Wheeljack's thumb gently rub your back, which actually helped to relax you.
You, coming to your senses and realizing what was happening, suddenly pulled away and looked at the floor, wiping your cheeks frantically. You were a mess.
"Oh god, I am so sorry you had to see me like this."
"Don't worry. I get it." He said in a soft voice you’ve never heard him use before.
You dared to look at him, and the expression of concern was very real on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched downwards, but eyes remained warm.
"Thank you...you should get going, it's late." you said, not wanting to prolong this awkward experience any further.
“Are you sure? Ya seem upset.”
Lord take me now. You wanted him to stay, but your ration was yelling at you that this was ridiculous. Your desire is senseless, a nuisance, shove it aside. You were so used to dealing with your emotions by yourself, that having another soul present to comfort you was both alien and something you’ve yearned for. You craved it, yet feared it.
“I think I’ll be okay.” Yeah right.
Wheeljack, hesitantly stood before you for several seconds, before slowly making his way to your door. He opened it, and that’s when you both realized that there’s a full-scale blizzard outside. The temperature had dropped to -4. Too cold for anything to be outside. The visibility was awful, and the winds howling.
“Scrap.” Wheeljack said, upon looking out.
“Maybe you should stay here in the meantime.” You told him. Nature was on your side for once.
Snow was blowing into your house, and the chill was making your body hair stand up.
“It’s just frozen water y/n.” he joked.
“You’re not freezing to death tonight. Shut that door.”
He smiled playfully, and slammed it shut against the wind.
“Yes ma’am…now, you wanna tell me what’s got ya so upset?”
You just looked at him.
- 1 hour later –
You were sitting back with your backside against the couch, leaning to one side, with your head on Wheeljack’s shoulder, barely awake. You had told him everything about your feelings, your grades, your life. He had his full attention on you, and you eventually relaxed and laid your head on him. Your breaths are heavy and slow. He still had an arm wrapped lazily around you. Not a word was said, but no words were needed at the moment. Your eyes slowly shut, and you let out a sigh as you finally fell into him, and immediately drifted off to sleep. Little did you realize he had not moved an inch the entire time.
- 8 hours later –
You creaked your eyes open, and lightly groaned, your neck was stiff, but you strangely felt rested. As your eyes adjusted to the lights in your house, you remembered where you were, and who you were leaning on. You slightly tilted your head and moved your eyes to the side and caught a glimpse of him.
He was also asleep, or, well, recharging that is. You had never seen Wheeljack rest, ever. His head was back, other arm placed on the armrest, optics offline and shut. Gentle sunlight was hitting his cheek. You will never see him this peaceful either.
You leaned forward, your side ached, and your bones cracked so loud it woke him up.
“Mornin’” Jackie said to you, eyes still shut.
You eyed him, and your face dusted red. Had he really sat there and slept with you this entire time? Once again, you questioned if this was real or not. You couldn’t believe that he cared for you even a sliver. You rubbed the base of your neck and glanced sideways. The sun was rising, as its first rays fell through the window, and there was a pile of fresh white snow on the ground.
“Wheeljack, why are you still here?” you asked.
“Didn’t wanna wake ya, plus, I needed to power down for a while before headin’ back out.” He finally opened his eyes and slowly stood up. He stretched for a second and arched his back.
“Hey.”
“Yes?”
“Call me Jackie.”
Holy shit. That was only Bulkhead’s nickname for him. Are you even worthy of such a privilege? You thought. You didn’t reply. Why do I always choke up? After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up again.
“Need a lift, sweetspark?” he said as he turned to you and winked.
Your face was heating up. He called me sweetspark what do I do??
You smiled at him sweetly. You looked at your shirt.
“Give me a minute to shower first?”
He nodded, and you casually headed off to your room. The second you shut the door you exhaled heavily. Your heart was still racing. How the hell am I going to survive this. You quickly showered and put on winter clothes. As you were doing so, you checked your phone and noticed a notification.
“University of Nevada Jasper Campus closed today because of snow hazard. All classes have been suspended. Exercise caution driving on icy roads.”
Oh, nice. Now you can spend the day with Jackie. You really need to mute your thoughts because they weren’t helping you right now. You walked out of your room and didn’t see him anywhere. You heard an engine rev and you peered outside, he was back to his normal size again and transformed, waiting for you in your driveway. You grabbed your coat and bag and headed out. The air was icy, and a little windy. Nothing you weren’t used to already. Jackie opened his door for you, and you climbed into his cabin.
“You hungry?” he queried. Such a simple question, but you thought that was incredibly sweet of him.
“Yes.”
You felt the seatbelt wrap around you and fasten and he immediately accelerated.
“Slow down there cowboy.”
You stared at the imminent sunrise, the Jasper skies tinted violet, indigo and rose. White snow starkly contrasted to the fiery red of the canyon around the town, gold light reflecting softly off of Jackie’s hood. It was all perfectly timed, a scene from a vivid dream. He sped down a lonely stretch of road into the center of the town and pulled up to a café that was just opening up shop for the day. You smiled, a sincere smile, one stemming from bliss, one you haven’t felt in a while.
Sometimes it does snow in the desert. Sometimes things are okay.