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It’s after another long afternoon spent patrolling that Optimus steps through the groundbridge bringing him back to base, looks around, and believes for a moment that he’s accidentally returned to the wrong location.
A second scan of the interior confirms that no, this is indeed Autobot Outpost Omega One. All of their computers, energon cubes, and leftover human construction tools are set in their usual spots. Other than Arcee, who’d accompanied Optimus on his patrol, all of the Autobots and humans are present inside the base. Their usual chatter is the same comforting white noise to Optimus’ audials.
The visual interior of the base, on the other hand, is much…shinier than it was before Optimus departed.
Streamers of various bright colours hang from wall to wall in looping arcs, crisscrossing above their heads like a mass of translucent rainbows. Gold and silver star-shaped balloons are distributed around the edges of the base, prevented from floating to the ceiling by tiny, equally shiny weights attached to the end of their strings. Bumblebee steps around a particularly large cluster of balloons so he can press a long string of red and yellow paper triangles to the wall. Rafael, perched on his shoulder, peels off two pieces of tape and hands them to Bumblebee, who carefully places them on either end of the string to keep them attached to the wall.
Rafael tilts his head as he examines the scene. “It’s a pretty long string,” he observes. “Maybe we should add a bit more tape, just in case.”
Bumblebee beeps in agreement, and Rafael starts plucking out more pieces of tape.
Hoping his battlemask is effectively hiding his bafflement, Optimus turns to look at the other side of the room, where Miko is balanced precariously on Bulkhead’s outstretched hand, tongue sticking out as she reaches up to tape one end of a violet streamer to the wall. Bulkhead keeps darting worried looks between her and the floor.
“Be careful,” Bulkhead stresses as Miko stretches up to push the streamer more firmly against the wall. “If you fall—”
“—then I know you’ll catch me!” Miko uses a pair of scissors to snip off the end of the streamer, then tucks the scissors and the rest of the coil into her back pocket. “Nothing beats a Wrecker’s fast reflexes!”
Beside Optimus, Arcee comes to a screeching halt. She flips back into root mode and takes in the newly decorated Autobot base with wide optics. “What’s the party for?” she asks, bending down to inspect a large cardboard cutout of a red racecar with strangely human-looking blue optics and the number ninety-five stencilled across its doors.
“We’re throwing a surprise party for Jack!” Miko yells in answer. She plops down on Bulkhead’s hand, legs swinging. “Because he’s finally doing his driving test today.”
Optimus gazes up at the giant banner hanging from one end of the base’s ceiling to the other. CONGRATULATIONS ON ACING YOUR DRIVING TEST!!! is painted in large red letters. Surrounding the words are doodles of numerous vehicles racing along a grey track encircling the banner’s border. Optimus recognizes Miko’s art style in most of the drawings, but he has a strong hunch that the messier yellow car and orange ambulance speeding along the bottom of the banner were drawn by Rafael.
“What is a ‘driving test?’” asks Optimus.
“Apparently,” grumbles Ratchet from where he’s busy typing away at the groundbridge computer and doing his best to ignore the party decorating going on around him, “it’s a test to ensure humans don’t kill each other on the road.”
Optimus processes that. “I was not aware humans tended to be so violent while driving.”
“Er,” says Rafael. “It’s not whatever you’re imagining.”
Miko snorts as Bulkhead lowers her to the ground. “Raf, obviously you haven’t seen road rage on the interstate. Or two drivers fighting over the last parking spot at the mall on a Saturday afternoon.” She hops out of Bulkhead’s hand and cranes her neck to look up at Optimus. “But yeah, don’t listen to Docbot. He’s just cranky because I made him wear a party hat.”
Optimus glances back at Ratchet and sees that yes, there is a conical piece of orange plastic with white polka dots fastened to Ratchet’s helm, kept in place with a rope looped under his chin. A tiny ball of blue fluff is affixed to the top of the hat.
Ratchet scowls when he notices Optimus’ stare. “I still don’t know why I have to wear this…party hat just because Jack is taking a driving test.”
“This is a party!” Miko gestures at Bulkhead and Bumblebee, who Optimus belatedly notices are sporting their own colour-coded party hats. “You wear party hats at a party, duh!”
“It’s just a driving test!” sputters Ratchet. “I hardly think it justifies such a lavish party!”
Arcee folds her arms. “I can’t say I get it either. If it’s not about fighting off opponents while driving, then what exactly is a driving test?”
“It’s a test people have to take in order to legally drive on the road,” explains Rafael. “An examiner sits in the car with you and watches you drive to make sure you know all the traffic rules. After you pass the test, you get your driver’s license as proof that you can drive safely.”
All the Autobots look skeptical. Optimus understands their disbelief. He tries to imagine Cybertron with a similar law, one where they made younglings who’d barely had time to acclimatize to their alt modes undergo an examination before being allowed on the road. Certainly, it would have caused fewer accidents, but Optimus doubts such a law would’ve been allowed to pass without a substantial amount of backlash from all Cybertronians.
Ratchet puts his hands on his hips. “That doesn’t explain why Jack’s driving test party needs to be held in here!”
“Because most people think Jack already has his driver’s license,” says Rafael. “He’s become pretty well-known around school for driving Arcee, after all. So it’s kind of a secret that he’s taking his driving test.”
“Besides, you’re Autobots! You transform into cars!” adds Miko. “What better place is there to celebrate passing your driving test?”
“Anywhere but here,” mutters Ratchet.
“Jack tried to act like the whole thing isn’t a big deal, but it’s so obvious he can’t wait to start driving on his own.” Miko rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Since it matters so much to him, I decided to throw him this party. He better appreciate my hard work!”
Rafael tilts his head. “I thought you said it’s because you want a reason to bully Jack into driving you whenever you need to go somewhere and Bulkhead can’t go.”
“Eh, two birds, one stone.”
The distinct sound of a car engine approaching from the tunnel entrance rumbles through the base. Bumblebee perks up, taping the last string of triangle cutouts to the wall and chirping, ::That’s Nurse Darby’s car!::
Rafael nods and looks back at Miko. “Jack’s coming in soon.”
“Already?” Miko exclaims. “I thought it’d take him more time to get his license registered and everything! I didn’t even find places for us to hide yet! I wanted all of us to pop out and shout ‘Surprise!’ when he came back.”
Ratchet arches an optical ridge. “Where did you expect us to hide? Specifically, where did you expect Optimus to hide?”
Optimus examines the full interior of the Autobot base. In this area, there aren’t many obstructions both taller and wider than his full frame. Perhaps in his truck mode, he’d be able to squeeze behind the humans’ abandoned crane—but no, then his trailer would conspicuously stick out. Not to mention he’d have difficulty backing out without bumping into the base’s walls.
“I’m afraid Ratchet is correct,” he tells Miko regretfully. “There is not enough space in here for me to hide.”
Miko pouts. “Aw. Well, at least we had time to put up all the decorations. Guess we’ll have to settle for a regular party, not a surprise party.”
“Small mercies,” mutters Ratchet.
The humming car engine grows louder and louder, until the familiar sight of June Darby’s car appears from around the corner of the tunnel and turns into the base. The car comes to a stop at the exit, its engine cutting off, and Jack climbs out of the passenger’s side. Through the front windshield, Optimus can make out the form of June in the driver’s seat.
Miko marches up to Jack, boots clomping against the ground. “Thought you’d be driving now that you finally have your license!” she exclaims. “Why are you still letting your mom drive you?”
Jack’s shoulder hunch inwards. Unbidden, Optimus is struck with the sudden memory of performing the exact same motion long ago, when the Senate had decided to reward him with the Primacy and he’d turned back to see Megatronus’ reaction.
“I didn’t get my license,” mumbles Jack.
Miko blinks. “Huh? Wasn’t your driving test today?”
“Yeah.” Jack glances up at all the decorations strung up around the base, and somehow folds even further in on himself. “But I…didn’t pass. I failed the test.”
There’s a long moment of silence as everyone stares at Jack and Jack avoids meeting anyone’s eyes or optics. Optimus witnesses the cardboard cutout of the red racecar beside Arcee topple over and hit the ground with a thump. Ratchet reaches up and yanks off his party hat.
“I did not realize human driving tests are so challenging that one can fail them,” Optimus says, as diplomatically as possible. “Was there a very complicated maneuver you were not able to perform correctly?”
Jack grimaces. “Uh, no. I just—went over the curb while trying to make a right turn.”
“How?” Miko yells in Jack’s face. “You sit behind Arcee’s handlebars almost every day!”
“I don’t drive Arcee!” Jack argues. “She does all the steering!”
“Yeah, I can understand why she wants to do all the steering, if your steering is that bad!”
Thankfully, Arcee interjects before Optimus needs to step in to prevent an escalation of the children’s fight. “Relax,” she says. She still looks confused by the whole situation, but the considerate smile on her face is real. “Jack, we can go for a drive and I’ll let you take the reins. Get a feel for how to control your steering.”
Jack smiles weakly. “Thanks Arcee,” he says. “Maybe another day, though. I don’t really feel like driving right now. Besides, I have time. My next test isn’t for another few weeks.”
Miko looks around at the various colourful decorations embellishing the Autobot base. “If it’s just a few weeks, can we—”
“No. I am not living with these abominations cluttering up our base for weeks,” snaps Ratchet.
“Seriously?” whines Miko. “Jack, I can’t believe you made me waste all this time because you didn’t learn to steer before taking your driving test!”
“And I can’t believe I had to wear this stupid party hat for no reason.” Plastic crumples in Ratchet’s fisted servo as his irritation swings from Miko to Jack. “I know when you drive in our alt modes, you don’t have to move or even hold onto our steering wheels. But when you’re driving in a non-sentient vehicle, you need to have full control over the wheel to execute a proper turn!”
Jack’s face flushes red. “I know that! It’s not that I don’t know how to steer at all, jeez—”
Optimus leaves them to their bickering and approaches June Darby as she steps out of her car. He gets down on one knee to speak with her more easily, lowering his voice to prevent Jack from overhearing him.
“June,” he says gravely, “is Jack ill?”
June stops halfway through putting her car keys inside her purse. “I don’t think so,” she says slowly. “Why? Did you notice something wrong with him? Is he showing any symptoms—”
Optimus quickly raises a servo to forestall her before she worries herself over Jack’s well-being. “As far as I know, Jack is completely healthy,” he says. “I only ask because he failed his driving test.”
“...What?”
“I thought perhaps he was injured in some way, and that is what caused him to drive over a curb,” Optimus explains.
It seems like a perfectly rational assumption to him, but June laughs like he’s said something terribly funny. “No, no, Jack is okay,” she reassures him. “He just needs a bit more practice, that’s all. He spends so much time on the road with Arcee that I thought he’d be alright, but…it’s fine. It’s not uncommon for teenagers to need a second try at passing their driving test.”
“Understood,” says Optimus, setting aside his confusion at the concept of humans needing abundant practice to do something as simple as driving. Perhaps it is simply a cultural difference between humans and Cybertronians. “Jack is smart and I have seen that he is a hard worker. I’m sure he will do well on his second attempt.”
A few weeks later, Jack rides back into the Autobot base with Arcee. The two park in front of the rest of the Autobots, currently all gathered around the tunnel exit. This time, Optimus was present during Miko’s preparations and gifted his own handcrafted red party hat decorated with blue stripes and a white pompom. As thanks, he’d helped her string the giant CONGRATULATIONS ON ACING YOUR DRIVING TEST!!! banner back across the base, after she’d first painted over the word ACING and replaced it with PASSING.
Jack pulls off his helmet and dismounts from Arcee’s seat. Miko bounces up to him, grinning. “Well?” she demands. “Let’s see your brand-new license!”
He winces. “I don’t have one yet.”
A beat of silence. Behind him, Optimus hears the racecar cutout mysteriously fall over and hit the ground again.
“What?” Miko shrieks, loud enough that Optimus instinctively lowers his audial sensitivity. “What did you do this time?!”
Jack shuffles his feet. “I didn’t check my blind spot before trying to change lanes, and. Well. There was another car in the way.”
Rafael stares at him, wide-eyed. “You hit another car?”
“No!” cries Jack, before reluctantly adding, “because the examiner grabbed the steering wheel before I could.”
“How do you not check your blind spot?” demands Miko. “Even I know that’s like, driving 101, and I haven’t even started driving yet! What if there are ‘Cons coming at you from there?”
“If the Decepticons showed up to attack me during my driving test,” says Jack, “I think I’d have bigger problems to worry about than passing.”
“Actually,” says Arcee, transforming back into her root mode, “for once, Miko makes a good point. While you’re driving, maybe you should think of all the other vehicles as enemies. It’ll keep you on your toes. Make you more aware of your surroundings. Hopefully, it'll even remind you to check your mirrors and blind spot more often.”
Jack stares at her. “Uh, it might do all that, but I’d be so anxious about the other cars possibly transforming and shooting at me that I’d crash out of sheer panic. Or just never drive in the first place.”
“Uh, hello?” Miko jabs him in the chest with a finger. “You hang out with Autobots, remember? Half the time you’re out there, you’re getting shot at, and the other half of the time the ‘Cons aren’t shooting you because they’re too busy trying to step on you!”
“There’s a difference between ‘occasionally experiencing life-threatening terror without a giant metal robot by my side’ and ‘experiencing life-threatening terror every single time I drive on my own!’”
Miko draws in a breath, clearly gearing up to make another argument. Bulkhead sees the same sign as Optimus and hurries to jump in.
“You have to drive a car in your driving test, right? Not a motorcycle?” he asks Jack. “Cars need more room to change lanes. Maybe all your time with Arcee is throwing you off. Maybe it’ll help if you practice driving a car instead.”
A thoughtful expression crosses Arcee’s face. “Didn’t think of that. It’s possible.” She looks over at Bumblebee. “Bee, can you drive around with Jack for a bit to help him out?”
Bumblebee’s doorwings hike up. ::Sure! I’m always up for a drive.::
“Bee says he’s okay with it,” Rafael tells Jack.
“Thanks,” says Jack, offering Bee a half-hearted smile, “but it’s fine. I’ll just use my mom’s car. It’s probably better if I don’t rely on a sentient vehicle to do the driving for me, anyway.”
::Okay,:: replies Bumblebee, not looking the least bit offended. ::If it helps, I try to stay alert with every part of my alt mode and not just rely on my sensors. I find that fine-tuning this kind of awareness really helps me stay sharp to any dangers, even before I consciously sense them.::
Rafael translates this advice, and Jack’s small smile in Bumblebee’s direction becomes a little more strained. “Right. Not sure how much I can do that, considering I’m not actually a car the way you are, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
As Jack walks away, ignoring Miko’s berating shouts and Rafael’s inquiries about the various differences between driving a motorcycle and a car, Ratchet sidles up to Optimus.
“Do you know if Jack is sick?” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
“June assured me he is in perfect health,” answers Optimus.
“Hmm,” says Ratchet. The two of them watch as Jack pushes the other two children away and stomps towards the back rooms of the base.
“Can I run a few medical scans on him, just in case?” asks Ratchet.
Optimus weighs the numerous pros and nonexistent cons. “Very well. But, ah...please try to be discreet. I do not wish for Jack to be unduly alarmed.”
“If he’s not already alarmed after failing his driving test twice in a row,” says Ratchet, “then I’m seriously concerned about the capabilities of humans.”
“We have seen time and time again that humans are much stronger and more resilient than we previously expected,” Optimus reminds him. “I believe in Jack’s ability to pass his driving test on his third attempt.”
Miko takes one look at Jack’s face when he trudges into the Autobot base and cries, “Again?!”
“Yep. Failed again.” Jack’s voice is calm, but there’s a bitter undertone to it. Normally, Optimus would be more fascinated by this display of humans’ ability to inject layers of emotion into their voices without a subvocal vocalizer component installed, but now is not the time to pursue that avenue of exploration.
“What did you—” Rafael starts to ask.
“Clipped the car parked beside me after trying again and again to reverse into a parking spot.” Jack unhooks his backpack from his shoulders, striding up the staircase to the children’s gaming area and dumping the backpack on the sofa. “Barely. It only left a tiny scratch. But that’s enough to fail the test, apparently!”
“That’s still hitting another car! Of course that’s enough to make you fail!” Miko throws her hands in the air, inadvertently letting go of the balloons she was holding. They slowly drift upwards. “You weren’t even being shot at by Decepticons, so you have no excuse!”
Jack drops onto the sofa, flopping onto his back and tossing an arm over his eyes. Optimus wonders if it’s so he doesn’t have to look at the freshly-painted YOU PASSED YOUR DRIVING TEST! banner hanging right above his head. “Whatever,” he says, still in that same oddly chipper tone. “I don’t care anymore. Maybe I’ll never get my license. Maybe I’ll just ride my bike or take the bus everywhere when Arcee isn’t around.”
Optimus only gets a glimpse of Miko’s outrage before he’s distracted from her ensuing rant by Ratchet walking over to him with a datapad in his hands.
“Jack’s scans came back clean,” says Ratchet, showing him the green bars on the screen. “He’s in perfect condition.”
Optimus snags Miko’s balloons before they can float all the way to the ceiling. These ones are round and decorated with more of the same odd cars featuring human-like eyes, with the exception of one balloon that, bizarrely enough, bears a sign reading ‘Radiator Springs.’ Optimus does not know what ‘Radiator Springs’ means, and he has yet to pull Miko aside from her party decorating and ask her.
“I do not understand,” he says. “All of Jack’s mistakes are very simple driving operations. If he is not ill, then why does he keep failing his test?”
Ratchet makes a grumbling noise, seemingly lost in thought. “Nurse Darby once told me some human diseases don’t have physical symptoms, and even a scan may not show there’s something wrong with them. So the human doesn’t know they’re dying until it’s too late.”
“What?” hisses Arcee, and Optimus startles slightly. He hadn’t realized she was standing right behind them. “You think Jack is dying?”
Optimus’ spark skips a spin in its chamber at the thought, but he forces his voice to remain even. “I do not believe it would be wise to make assumptions,” he says, tightening his grip on the balloon strings. “For now, we should assume Ratchet’s scans and June’s testimony are both accurate and Jack is in perfect health.”
“That’s all well and good, Optimus,” says Ratchet, “but that doesn’t explain why Jack keeps failing.”
Optimus glances over at Jack’s prone form. Rafael has joined him on the sofa and is attempting to hand him a game controller, but Jack doesn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of playing video games. He shakes his head, pushing the controller away, and Rafael sighs before setting the controller back on the table.
“I do not know why Jack is still having trouble driving,” he says, “but the most we can do is offer him our support as he continues his attempts to pass his test.”
Arcee lowers her voice. “The ‘attempts’ part might be a problem. I think the constant failures are getting to him. He keeps saying—”
“Nope!” Jack exclaims, loud enough to catch Optimus’ attention. “I’m done.”
Bulkhead wrings his servos. “If you only clipped the other car, then I’m sure your parking skills are almost there,” he offers. “During your next test, just don't panic—”
“Nope,” repeats Jack, turning onto his side. The sofa’s cushions slightly muffle his next words. “I’m not taking that stupid driving test ever again.”
Arcee winces, inclining her head in Jack’s direction. “That. He kept saying things along those lines during our ride back to base.”
An aching chill runs through Optimus’ fuel lines. It’s understandable that Jack would be frustrated after so many failures. Perhaps he should—
No. Arcee would be a more suitable advisor, as Jack’s primary guardian. By now, she possesses a great deal of experience in dealing with human younglings, and she has a much higher chance of successfully comforting Jack than someone who’s careful to keep a measure of distance from even his closest friends.
“I would advise you to speak with Jack privately, Arcee,” says Optimus. “He values your opinion. If you encourage him not to give up, he will listen to you.”
Arcee gives him a brisk nod. “I’ll give that a shot.”
“And I’ll ask June if she has more advanced medical scanners for humans,” says Ratchet. “Just in case.”
The ‘Radiator Springs’ balloon in Optimus’ grasp shudders and explodes with a sad pop.
Arcee never directly confirms if she managed to speak privately with Jack, but Optimus is sure she did because several weeks later, Jack shows up at the base…not happy, per se, but without the overwhelmingly negative aura that’s been hanging over him like a dark cloud, long after his third failed attempt at the driving test. He starts spending more time away from the Autobot base to practice driving his mother’s car and pick up more shifts at his part-time job, since “taking all these retests are draining my savings. It’s a good thing I’m not planning to buy my own motorcycle anymore.”
Time passes. Ratchet returns the advanced scanners he’d borrowed from June despite June’s insistence that they weren’t necessary, conceding that she was right. Optimus still isn’t sure what is afflicting Jack so badly that he cannot pass the humans’ driving test but he refrains from mentioning it, especially after Jack declares he’s ready to take the driving test again.
Only later will Optimus wonder if keeping quiet was a mistake, after he learns about Jack’s fourth failed attempt from the torn shreds of the YOU PASSED YOUR DRIVING TEST banner littering the base floor.
No one brings up driving tests or anything remotely related to the topic of driving—no small feat for a team of robotic organisms whose lives significantly revolve around driving—around Jack for a long while.
Optimus didn’t order his team to do it. He didn’t have to. He’s sure all of the Autobots can sense the brittle tension whenever Jack gives in and plays the car racing video game with Raf, or comes back from patrolling with Arcee. Outwardly he acts normal, complaining about homework with Miko and listening to the other Autobots’ conversations, but if the destroyed party decorations and Jack’s refusal to mention any future driving test attempts are any sign, things are far from normal.
He is unsure how long the uneasy atmosphere would have continued, if it weren’t for Miko turning sixteen Earth years old. A few days after the surprise party Bulkhead throws in her honour, Miko and Bulkhead come skidding back into the base, leaving tire tread marks on the floor as Bulkhead spins to a stop.
Miko emerges from the driver’s seat, giggling as Ratchet storms over to the pair of them.
“Bulkhead, what are you thinking?” he snaps. “There’s no reason to drive so recklessly in here and risk crashing into the computers or some other fragile equipment! You know I need them!”
“Sorry Ratchet,” says Bulkhead, contrite, “but it wasn’t me driving.”
Ratchet freezes. “What?”
“That was me!” Miko slips a rectangular-shaped paper out of her pocket and holds it up for Ratchet to see. “I just got my license, so Bulk said I could take him out for a spin!”
“Only because I thought getting a driver’s license means you know how to drive!” says Bulkhead, transforming back into root mode. “You were driving pretty fast just now. And throughout most of the ride.”
“I didn’t hit anything, did I?”
“Don’t your roads have speed limits?”
“Psh.” Miko waves a hand. “We’re in the middle of the desert and there are no other cars for miles. No one cares if I go over the speed limit.”
Bulkhead winces. “I think Bee and Arcee are a bad influence on you.”
There’s a thunderous expression on Ratchet’s face and Optimus hesitates, debating whether he should intervene before Ratchet verbally tears into Miko for disobeying human laws and even worse, for scuffing the base floor. However, before Ratchet can speak, Jack cuts into the conversation with an even more menacing expression.
“Did I hear you right?” he demands, striding over. “You got your driver’s license and immediately decided to break the rules?”
Miko and Bulkhead exchange alarmed looks. Clearly, both of them completely forgot that lately, Jack was almost always in the base around this time of day.
“Depends on your definition of ‘rules,’” says Miko, crossing her arms. “Personally, I think a lot of them are more like suggestions. Like, I never see anyone do a complete stop at a stop sign, so why should I?”
Optimus decides it is in everyone’s best interest if he pretends he did not hear Miko’s words.
“Because passing your driving test is supposed to prove you’re now a responsible driver!” says Jack, gesturing wildly. “If new drivers only follow the rules during the test and ignore them for the rest of their lives, then the examiners might as well give everyone a license because it wouldn’t matter!”
Miko sets her jaw. “Yeah, I bet you wish they did that. Then you wouldn’t have had to fail the test four times.”
“At least I know I’m trying to be a responsible driver!”
“Wow, Jack Darby is a model driver. Do you want a medal to prove what a good person you are?”
“What I want is for you to drive properly before someone gets hurt!”
Miko’s eyes narrow. “Watch it. I know how to drive safely. Just because you can’t pass your test—”
“If this is how you drive,” says Jack, infuriated, “then I should’ve been the one to pass the test instead of you!”
“You—!”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Arcee steps in between them, holding out her servos to stop the two from launching themselves at each other. “Any more shouting and Ratchet’s going to scrap you both for spare parts.”
She’s not wrong. The glare Ratchet is directing at Jack and Miko is uncannily similar to the one he normally reserves for Megatron.
Miko shoots Jack one last scowl before stomping away. “C’mon, Bulk,” she says crossly. “Let’s go back out so we can drive without getting yelled at.”
“Uh.” Bulkhead darts a glance at Optimus. Optimus nods, granting his approval. “Yeah, okay.”
He shifts back into his vehicle form, popping open the driver’s door for Miko to jump in, and the two peel off.
The eyes and optics of everyone left in the base fall on Jack.
“I need some air,” announces Jack to no one in particular, and without another word he leaves the room.
Silence.
“Well,” says Arcee. “That could’ve gone better.”
Ratchet shrugs. “Yes, but at least they’re both gone now and I can get some work done.”
Arcee stares at him. “I was talking about Jack and Miko’s fight, not your love for peace and quiet…” She trails off as Ratchet returns to the computer terminal and resumes his typing, muttering to himself. “Well. I guess he’s not helping us.”
Bumblebee glances in the direction Jack stalked off in. ::Should someone go after him?::
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rafael says tentatively, but he’s peering in the same direction with no small amount of concern. “Jack might want to be alone right now.”
“Jack’s been alone this whole time,” Arcee points out. “Other than a few trivial conversations, he’s been shutting us all out. Trust me, I know what it’s like when you just want to be left alone…but this isn’t helping Jack. If he keeps all his emotions bottled up, then he’s going to keep blowing up like he just did at Miko. We can’t all avoid discussing anything to do with driving forever. Assuming Ratchet is right and Jack isn’t actually sick or dying—”
Rafael blinks. “Um, why would Jack be dying?”
“Long story. Hopefully not an important one.” Arcee blows out an ex-vent. “Jack really needs someone to talk to him before he spirals further. I can try again, but I don’t know what else to say that I didn’t already tell him last time.”
Optimus thinks about the expression on Jack’s face just before he’d turned to slink out of the base. Jack was certainly angry, but Optimus doubts his anger and frustration were truly aimed at Miko. Optimus is familiar enough with being wholly, incandescently furious at himself for his own horrible mistakes to recognize the signs of self-hatred.
“There is no need for that, Arcee,” says Optimus. “I will speak with Jack.”
Optimus finds Jack sitting on the plateau at the top of the base, legs dangling over the edge and gaze fixed on the horizon. The light from the setting sun washes over him, casting a reddish-orange glow over his features. Thick clouds of the same colour drift lazily across the sky. Carefully stepping around Cliffjumper’s memorial, Optimus moves to stand beside Jack. When Jack doesn’t acknowledge his presence, he carefully sits down beside him, pistons creaking as he copies Jack’s seated pose at the edge of the cliff.
They sit in silence, staring over the jagged Nevada landscape. Optimus watches the dark shadows behind the desert’s numerous rock formations lengthen as the sun sinks lower in the sky. He doesn’t come up here often, but he knows the rest of his team does, especially Arcee, and he understands why. Despite the barren scenery, there’s something soothing about the endless desert view that calms the uneasiness in his spark. He draws in an in-vent, and the peaceful tranquillity washes over his frame in a wave of blanketing warmth.
Eventually, Jack breaks the quiet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at Miko. I know she was just excited about passing her own test, and I ruined that for her.”
“It is to her whom you owe your apologies, not me,” says Optimus. “However, I doubt Miko will remain mad at you for long. She understands that you have been having a difficult time as of late.”
“I know.” Jack pulls his legs back from the edge, drawing his knees to his shoulders. “I know she was just trying to help. It feels like everyone’s been trying to help. My mom, all the Autobots, even Wheeljack—”
Optimus cycles his optics. “You conversed with Wheeljack?”
“Yeah, by accident. I ran into him one night while returning home from work and somehow ended up telling him about my driving tests, and he encouraged me to remember I can always run down the other cars if I need to. I tried to tell him I’d fail the test for sure if I did that, but I don’t think he really understood what I was saying.”
Before Optimus can strongly recommend Jack against following Wheeljack’s highly dubious advice, Jack keeps talking. “I appreciate everyone trying to help me, I really do. But I already know all the driving facts in my head. I learned them all for the written portion of the test, and I passed that part easily. And I’m usually okay when I’m just practicing driving, but during the test with the examiner sitting right beside me? It’s like I forget everything and end up making the dumbest mistakes. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Jack has yet to look up since Optimus first approached him. His hunched form makes him appear so much smaller than usual, as if he’s attempting to hide from Optimus’ visual feed or simply phase straight through the rock and disappear from existence.
Optimus chooses his words carefully. “I cannot say I understand why the driving test is so difficult for you,” he says slowly. “For me, and the rest of the Autobots, the concept of a driving test is…puzzling. There was no such equivalent on Cybertron.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” says Jack. “It’d be pretty weird if toddlers had to take, like, a walking test before being allowed outside.”
“That being said,” says Optimus, “I understand how pressure can make a seemingly simple task significantly harder. Particularly if one is expected to lead by example.”
Jack stills, then finally turns his head to look up at him.
Stray rocks go tumbling off the ledge as Optimus settles into a more comfortable position. “You are aware that before I became Optimus Prime, I was the data archivist Orion Pax. I gained a deep wealth of knowledge during my time in the Iacon Hall of Records, but none of it was enough to prepare me for the bleak reality of leading the Autobot army as Optimus Prime. Initially, I believed that my former intimacy with Megatronus and my familiarity with the beginnings of the Decepticon movement would help me anticipate the extent of their actions, but I was wrong.” Optimus closes his optical shutters briefly. “My closest advisors attempted to reassure me that it was not my fault, and that I could not have predicted all of Megatron’s horrific tactics…but a part of me still felt I was to blame for not being able to stop him.”
That was not the only aspect of Megatron’s downfall that Optimus blamed himself for, but he sees no need to burden Jack with his irrelevant secrets at the moment.
“The Autobots were almost destroyed before we could truly begin to resist the Decepticons,” says Optimus, pulling the heavy words from his intake like they’re lead weights, “and it was because I was not ready for command.”
“Wait, but—Optimus, I think I get what you’re trying to say, but that’s not the same thing at all,” argues Jack. “You got dropped into a war, and if you messed up, it meant bots died. That kind of pressure is…I can’t even imagine it. It’s on a totally different level of me not being able to drive without messing up.”
“Yes, on the grand scale of issues in the universe, your driving test may not be that important. That does not mean that it is not important to you.” Optimus regards him. “Have you considered that you feel excess pressure to pass your driving test because you spend so much time with us Autobots, and so driving should come very easily to you?”
Jack gives him a wry smile. “Yeah. Didn’t take long for me to figure that out. Recognizing the problem is a lot easier than actually fixing it, though.”
“Indeed.” Optimus allows himself to smile slightly in return. “It is reassuring to have allies and friends that have faith in you. At the same time, it can be overwhelming to carry their high expectations on your own shoulders.”
“Yeah.” Jack wraps his arms around his knees. “I don’t want to call it a burden, because that makes it sound like a bad thing, but it’s…”
Optimus finishes the sentence for him. “Both a wonderful and terrible weight to carry.”
“And that’s not a bad thing,” Jack insists again. “I like that Miko, Raf, and even the other Autobots expect me to accomplish all kinds of things so easily. It’s better than being invisible and no one expecting anything from me at all. But how do I carry those expectations without cracking under the weight? How do I stop being afraid of failing and letting everyone down?”
In the distance, a flock of birds in a V formation streak across the orange sky. Their black wings beat a soundless, even rhythm in tandem as the bird at the front leads the rest eastwards, past the setting sun, without the slightest hitch in its movements.
“I’m afraid there is no simple answer,” Optimus says solemnly. “In my experience, fear of failure is not something that ever disappears completely. You must accept that sometimes, you will fail. Sometimes, you may even make the same mistakes more than once. This truth never becomes easier to accept…but each time, it gets easier to swallow your pride, learn what lessons you can from your failures, and use those lessons to increase your odds of success in the future.”
Optimus expects Jack to be disappointed by his answer, but Jack just nods thoughtfully. “It’s like trying out for the champion soccer team, or giving a class presentation for the first time, or asking out Sie—” He quickly cuts himself off. “Uh, I mean, there’s no easy way out. If there was, I probably would’ve figured it out by now, and I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”
“Yes.” Optimus does not know what a ‘soccer’ is, but he hopes it is not pertinent to the topic at hand. “As Optimus Prime, I failed many, many times, and those failures were…costly. It took plenty of time and growth to acknowledge that I did my best, even if I could have avoided those mistakes in hindsight, and to learn from my failures instead of wallowing in them.”
Jack’s gaze returns to the horizon. “Yeah. Deep down, I think I already knew that. The only other option is to give up on getting my license, and maybe that’s the easy way out, but Arcee already talked me out of that and I really don’t want to let her down. So I just have to…keep trying, I guess. Even if it gets a little scarier every time I have to go back to the driving test centre.”
Optimus hesitates, then raises his servo and carefully places it on Jack’s shoulder. Jack turns his head sharply at the touch and he blinks down at Optimus’ hand, but he doesn’t look frightened, and he doesn’t move away. Fondness wells up in Optimus’ fuel tank like an overflowing energon fountain.
“Jack, you had the courage to travel to Cybertron, retrieve the wisdom of the Matrix contained inside Vector Sigma, and bring it back to Earth,” he says. “Just as you believed in Orion Pax to become Optimus Prime again, I believe that you will successfully confront your fears head-on and pass your driving test.”
Jack’s mouth quirks up. “Didn’t you say the pressure of someone else’s high expectations makes it worse?”
Optimus’ engine hiccups. “Ah. So I did.” He considers his words, and what he would have wanted to hear back when he first transformed into Optimus Prime. The fabric of Jack’s shirt is soft against his digits when he flexes his hand. “Allow me to rephrase my words: No one knows your own abilities better than you, Jack. If you’ve decided you’re ready to take your driving test, then it means you know that you’re a good driver. You’re already aware that the others have faith in you. Have more faith in yourself.”
“More faith in myself, huh?” Jack’s voice is quiet, but there’s a hint of determination threaded through that Optimus hasn’t heard from him in quite some time. “You know, that might be the most useful tip I’ve gotten so far.”
The base is deadly silent as June’s car pulls into the base, stopping outside of the circle of Autobots and humans doing a poor imitation of pretending they’re not just standing around waiting. Optimus breaks off his conversation with Ratchet and looks down, just in time to see the car door open and Jack step out.
From the driver’s seat.
Gasps ring out from across the circle, but all of them are mostly drowned out by Miko’s excited scream. She elbows her way past Bulkhead and Arcee’s pedes to gape at Jack. “Did you pass?”
In answer, Jack digs his wallet and pulls out a folded piece of paper with a flourish. It’s too far away for Optimus to read, even after magnifying his optics, but he assumes it is the long-awaited driver’s license based on the way Miko lets out another scream and raises her hand for a high five. Jack obliges her.
“Awesome!” Miko claps her hands together. “Now we can finally get your party started!”
Jack stares at her. “We’re still having a party?”
“Of course!” says Miko, beaming. “Just because it took you five tries to learn how to drive properly doesn't mean you don't deserve a party. And I already bought all the decorations. It’d be a waste of money if we don’t use them.”
"Um." Jack’s gaze flicks to the bare walls. “But there’s no—”
“Oh, we just didn’t want to spend the time putting them all up in case you didn’t pass again,” explains Miko, “but we’ve still got pretty much everything stored away. Everything that you didn’t rip up last time, anyway. Even the Lightning McQueen cutout!”
On cue, Arcee unfolds her arms to display the red racecar cutout she’d been carrying. Optimus can tell she’s just as confused as he is about the significance of this ‘Lightning McQueen,’ but Arcee dutifully follows Miko’s instructions to set it down—against the wall this time, to prevent any more poorly timed collapses.
Not that that will be a problem anymore, Optimus reflects, and a swell of pride and contentment fills his spark at the thought.
“Don’t go anywhere, Jackrabbit,” warns Miko, pointing at him. “I’ll be very upset if you bail on your own party. C’mon Bulk, let’s go get the rest of the balloons and streamers from the back!”
As she and Bulkhead take off, the rest of the team swarms around Jack to offer their praise and congratulations. Rafael’s voice rises above everyone else’s, pointedly louder than his typical volume so that Jack can hear him. “So what was your secret to passing the test this time?”
Optimus catches Jack’s eyes from outside the Autobot circle and winks. Jack looks startled for a brief moment, and then a grin spreads across his face.
“Nothing special,” answers Jack. “I just had a little more faith in myself.”