- Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack nodded at Axle when the field medic gave him the go-ahead to get Smokescreen up and into the CR pod in order to help speed his recovery along. The mechanical engineer then looked back at the rallybot only to find that Tracer was now there, kneeling in front of him. As she spoke to the diversion expert, ‘Jack glanced away at the floor to give them some semblance of privacy even though he could still hear what was being said. The engineer paid the whispered words no mind as the concerns of a love-struck couple were not his own.
Smokescreen listened as Tracer knelt down and told him that he had been right. The troubled femme promised that she did, in fact, trust him and that she just didn’t want to revisit her dark past as it was an unpleasant one she'd rather forget. Smokey now understood her reasoning, his anger gone as her words touched his audio receptors. She then warned him that she would act very different once the Syk was expelled from her systems. It would be a side of her that the diversion expert had never seen before. The fear in her vocal processor was clearly evident.
“We’ll find a way to help you, Tracer,” Smokescreen vowed as she looked back up into his optics while her hands remained on top of his own. “I’m not afraid of the real you. Someday, what I see now, will be the real you.” He squeezed her hands back as she then agreed with both Wheeljack and Axle that he needed more time in the CR pod. The rallybot was going to respond but was quickly cut off when Tracer placed her left hand against his cheek plate. He knew what was coming as he’d seen this look on a femme’s visage before. It had been a long time ago, but it was a look one never forgot.
Finally, after what seemed like a vorn of her gazing into his optics, Tracer leaned in and gave Smokescreen a passionate kiss on his mouth. Wheeljack couldn’t help but glance over at them for a very brief moment, shaking his head slightly at the loving display of affection. The scientist waited patiently for the pair to finish their embrace, but when it didn’t come quite fast enough, the white mech had no choice but to end it, himself.
“Okay, you two, we gotta get Smokey into the CR pod now before his systems shut down,” Wheeljack interjected, not wanting to come across as being rude.
Hearing the engineer’s plea, Smokescreen slowly pulled back, not wanting the kiss to end but knowing that it had to. “All right, ‘Jack, we’re done,” the diversion expert replied without taking his optics off of Tracer. The rallybot smiled at her again as he felt Wheeljack grab a hold of his right arm and help him up to his feet.
“Tracer, grab his other arm please,” the Autobot inventor asked as he motioned towards the CR pod. “Thankfully, we don’t have far to go.” With the troubled femme’s assistance, Wheeljack guided Smokescreen over to the pod and held onto him tightly as the unpainted mech carefully stepped into the open CR unit. Once the rallybot was back inside and secured, the engineer looked down at him and smiled. “Comfy?”
“I guess,” Smokescreen responded as he adjusted his position within the small space that surrounded him. For a moment, Smokey wished this was a full sized chamber where there would be more room, but at least he’d be in deep stasis for the duration of his continued healing. “Will I finally be painted when I come out?”
“Is that all you care about, Smokey?”
“Well, no, but it’s kind of embarrassing to be walking around naked in front of Tracer, you know?”
Wheeljack cast a quick glance over at the drug-addled femme before returning his disbelieving gaze back at Smokescreen. Running his hand down his faceplate, the inventor shook his head and let out a chuckle. “Yes, Smokes, you’ll be fully painted and you’ll have your precious 38s on your door wings, too. Happy?”
“Good,” Wheeljack replied as he grabbed a hold of the pod’s door with his right hand. “Now, lie still. You’ll be good as new before you know it.”
“Wait!” Smokescreen exclaimed, raising his vocals slightly. He opened up a small compartment in his forearm and pulled out the vile of Syk he had been carrying since picking it up from the workbench earlier. “Take this. See if you can make more of it for me. It’s essential for Tracer’s own recovery.”
Accepting the vile from the tenacious rallybot, Wheeljack let out a quiet sigh, having known that this was coming. “I’ll do what I can, Smokey, but I’m not a chemist.”
“I know. Maybe you have a replicator around here?”
“I don’t know. I have something like that. Maybe,” Wheeljack conceded as he held on to the vile in his free hand. “I’ll need to modify it some since it was originally designed to replicate solid matter and not a chemical.”
“That’s fine, ‘Jack. Whatever you can do, I appreciate it.”
“You’ll do more than appreciate it. You’ll owe me this time!”
“I understand,” Smokescreen replied with a nod before laying his tired cranium back into the proper position.
Without wasting any more time, Wheeljack finally closed the pod’s door, allowing a hiss of air to escape. He then immediately set the repair cycle and activated the CR unit. “There, he’s all set,” the mechanical engineer stated as he looked back over at the love-struck femme. “Tracer, I need you to keep watch over him. Make sure nothing goes wrong. Okay? I’m sure you’ll have no problem handling that.”
With that said, Wheeljack turned his attention back to Axle. “If there’s nothing else you need me to do, I’m going to get to work on my replicator. I’ll see if I can adjust it to work on a narcotic like Syk.” Looking down at his side, the engineer opened up his left hand and held up the vile Smokescreen had just given him. ‘Jack studied the contents for a moment before offering it to the field medic. “You want to take a look at this, Axle? You said before that you have some knowledge of chemistry right? Any help whatsoever would be greatly appreciated.”