- Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Smokescreen glanced over to the workbench where he could see the vile of Syk sitting there amongst Wheeljack’s tools and other equipment. The rallybot hadn’t noticed it before until Tracer had pointed it out to him, but then again his optical vision was just now returning to within normal working parameters. “Thank Primus,” Smokey whispered, knowing that all had not been in vain. “I was hoping to get more off of Oil Slick, but...that’s all he had. It’ll have to do, I guess. Better than nothing.”
The diversion expert returned his attention to Tracer, a smile never leaving his faceplate. “It’s fine that Axle knows. You did what you had to...to save me.” Smokescreen replied as the troubled femme wondered if it had all been worth it, if she had been worth all of the problems her addiction had inadvertently caused. The unpainted mech let out a low sigh as he lifted his free hand to Tracer’s chin, raising her head up so that he could look into her optics once more. “Of course, you’re worth it! Don’t ever think...not for an astrosec...that you’re not. All the pain...the lies...the risk...I’d go through it again in a spark pulse...if it meant helping you beat this thing.”
Smokescreen then leaned in again and pressed his lips against her chevron for several astroseconds before pulling back, his pristine blue optics gazing into her own. “Now, let’s get me over to that....workbench, okay?” The rallybot suggested, wanting to get a closer look at the vile of Syk he had stolen from the Decepticon chemist. He took another step forward, going slower this time to avoid any unnecessary tumbles. It would serve him no good if he rushed and fell, damaging his new, but still frail body. He would regain his strength in time, but for now he needed to take it easy and simply follow his doctor’s orders. Unfortunately, time was not necessarily on his side as Tracer’s Syk dependency would eventually become a problem again. At the moment she was fine, but that would not last forever and Smokey needed to be in tip top shape for when she would require his help once again.
As he moved across the lab towards the workbench that was now only a short distance away, Smokescreen tried to think of something more positive, allowing his processor to wander back to what Tracer had said in regards to saving the best for last. A chuckle escaped from the rallybot’s vocalizer as a sly grin spread across his visage. “You know, Trace...I can’t wait to see what your best is. Of course....feel free to show me now...if you don’t want to keep me in suspense.”
It had been several breems since Wheeljack left his lab to go speak with Prowl regarding what had happened to Smokescreen. Of course, it was all a lie, one that the military strategist seemed to believe if not with a hint of anger and disappointment in his responses to the mechanical engineer. Luckily, the black and white had been in a rush. Otherwise, he may have pressed ‘Jack further regarding those made up events. As it were, Prowl accepted the report and dismissed the scientist with little more than a stern reprimand for not following protocol. At least, Red Alert was not present for the meeting. Then things wouldn’t have gone as well as they did.
Heck, if Red had been there I’d still be answering questions, Wheeljack thought as he approached the entrance to his lab and entered the access code. Once the doors had parted, the engineer stepped inside and looked across the room to see Tracer helping Smokescreen take slow steps around the lab. It was good to see his friend up and about again, even if he was leaning on a femme to maintain his balance. Still, the rallybot had come a long way since he was nothing more than a melted mess on the scientist’s worktable.
Glancing over to his left, Wheeljack spotted Axle standing nearby, watching as his patient carried out the exercises he had instructed the rallybot to perform. Approaching the field medic, the mechanical engineer gave him a curt nod before telling him the good news. “Well, Axle, it looks like Prowl bought our Cosmic Rust story. He was less than thrilled that I waited so long to report everything to him, but I’m confident he believed what I told him nevertheless. I guess it helped that it was a plausible scenario, and that I’m highly trusted by just about everyone within the Autobot ranks. Of course, I won’t be anymore if the truth is ever discovered.”
Wheeljack looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch sight of Smokescreen giving Tracer a kiss on her chevron. The scientist shook his head before returning his attention to Axle. “Looks like Smokey is doing pretty good over there, heh, in more ways than just his rehabilitation.”