So, it's taken me a year to get around to it, but finally, FINALLY, I am able to post an update! Usual excuse of being very busy, but not only that, I also really struggled to write this chapter. I scrapped a dozen different options before finally settling on this, and honestly, it's nothing like I originally planned. Having said that, some of the lines in this were written a year ago almost to the day!

It was my intent to reply to all of the wonderful reviews I've received, but again, life got in the way and I'm afraid I haven't acknowledged you all. So I take the opportunity to thank all of you now for your positive feedback, advice and questions; my silence does not show it but your reviews really mean a lot to me. Thank you!

And a huge thank you must go to my dear friend Taipan Kiryu, who took the time to read and provide such valuable, honest advice. Honestly sis, I'd never post anything if not for your encouragement and inspiration.

I won't keep you waiting any longer, but I will answer some of your questions at the end of the chapter...

Chapter 3

Ignorance

Jackson Darby stared blankly at his trigonometry book, unheeding of the mathematical equations printed on the yellowed, dog-eared pages. Head resting in his palm he unconsciously tapped his pencil on the blank page of his notebook, totally lost to the noise of the classroom around him.

His final exams couldn't have been further from his mind as he wallowed in his own anxiety, the revelations of the past few months rendering such small things insignificant. What would it matter if he failed, his grades were good enough to see him through to his final year of high school; it wasn't as if the results would be life changing.

Unlike being pregnant.

It was a topic that had been plaguing his thoughts relentlessly since Ratchet had broken the news, the initial shock giving way to a more complex set of emotions, the foremost of which being confusion. He had never really known anyone that was pregnant before and really didn't know what to expect, but to think of Arcee having a child... It just seemed so impossible.

And not just on the grounds of her being Cybertronian either. The Arcee he had come to know and love was fiercely in independent; as much as she was his guardian and – until recently at least – enjoyed his company, Jack had always understood that she preferred to be alone. He didn't know what she had been like before her first partner had been taken from her, but it seemed that the scars Airachnid had left her with ran spark-deep. The walls of protection she had put up to keep others away would always remain visible, no matter how hard he and the others tried to wear them down.

It was that thought above all others that worried Jack the most. He just couldn't picture Arcee being able to form a motherly bond with her child; a child that would be weak and defenceless and a likely target for those wishing to shatter Arcee's already damaged spark.

And it wasn't just Airachnid who posed such a threat either; Starscream too had proven his ability to kill the ones she was closest to. How could she possibly grow close to her baby when she still feared her friendships with those capable of protecting themselves? Already he could sense the walls being built, higher and stronger than any that she currently relied on.

The boy let out a sigh, his pencil moving from the blank notebook to his lips. He hated not knowing what to do, he wanted to talk to her but quite frankly, she frightened him. He just didn't know how to react to Arcee anymore, she had always been guarded but now...now all he had to do was look like he was about to speak and she'd threaten to tear him apart.

He could tell his mother was concerned too, she hadn't said much on the matter since that morning after Arcee's unannounced visit, but he could see it in her eyes nonetheless. Jack wasn't certain, but he suspected that she may have been approached by Arcee a few times since that night; there was just something in the way they had been addressing each other at base which suggested there was more going on than he was allowed to know.

Part of him was gladdened by the thought, if Arcee was finally reaching out to someone then why not his mother, someone who might be better placed to understand the situation. And yet, another part felt uneasy at the prospect of the two of them spending time together, especially when he himself was being pushed away, unable to speak his mind.

Could it be that he was jealous?

Jack ran a hand through his dark hair as he looked down at his desk, a feeling of helplessness beginning to stir within. He hated seeing Arcee so angry and lost, but for reasons still unknown to him, she didn't seem to want his help.

Or his company, for that matter.

Still, part of him realised that it wasn't necessarily personal; it seemed Arcee treated all her comrades harshly these days and as for Miko, well, he wasn't sure the girl would ever get over her most recent encounter with the Autobot.

Jack's pencil returned to tapping the notebook, the yellow paint on its end now sporting fresh teeth marks. It was strange to think he actually felt sorry for Miko, normally she deserved some kind of reprimand for the words that came out of her mouth but on that particular occasion, all she had done was ask if Arcee was feeling okay. He'd been about to ask the same question himself; it wasn't normal for anyone to suddenly go pale after all, let alone a pregnant woman.

That was another thing that worried him. He knew that, with human pregnancies at least, it was normal for a woman to feel sick, but to him, Arcee wasn't just looking sick. She was looking weak, not in the sense of being frail exactly, but as if all the energy was being drained from her.

Once again, perhaps it was his ignorance when it came to the topic of pregnancy – and more specifically, Cybertronian sparking – but to him Arcee didn't look as he had expected her to. She certainly wasn't glowing, as the clichés always described.

Jack would have liked to ask Ratchet about it, but the grumpy medic was too busy to worry about answering his dumb questions. He supposed he could ask his mother, but then again, how could she know what was normal in a Cybertronian pregnancy?

The pencil moved to Jack's lips again as he tried to convince himself everything was fine. Perhaps it was just the stress she was under; perhaps there was nothing wrong at all.

But try as he might to convince himself otherwise, Jack couldn't shake the horrible feeling that something was going on, something he wasn't allowed to know about. Even if he took Arcee herself out of the equation, he could still feel the unease of the other Autobots as if it were a physical weight on his shoulders.

For starters, he had never known Bumblebee to be so quiet, especially given how excited he'd initially been when Ratchet had broken the news to them all. Now he seemed confused, scared even, to the point where Raf was beside himself with worry.

Bulkhead wasn't himself either, the Wrecker spending more and more time in the training room honing his skills rather than hanging out with Miko and her favourite video games. And while the girl enjoyed watching his increased aggression and the destruction that came with it, her disappointment at being pushed aside was becoming more and more apparent as the weeks went by.

It was as if they were preparing for something, something other than a new arrival.

But the most noticeable changes were in Ratchet and Optimus, the two bots that had always seemed the most...stable. There was obvious tension between the pair of them; whilst neither of them had ever been overly conversational, their exchanges had become somewhat clipped of late, a series of commands and responses and nothing more.

Jack ran his hand through his hair again, a nervous habit which brought little comfort. It was disturbing to think that Arcee was the cause of such changes in his family, but what other explanation could there possibly be? He wasn't so naive to think that she was happy about being pregnant, but was it simply her attitude that was affecting everyone so badly?

Or was it something else?

Again, perhaps it was just his anxiety playing with his imagination, but the thought made him feel rather sick to the stomach.

If only he didn't feel so uncomfortable speaking to his mother about all this; while he didn't want to make her worry, he really wished he could just air his fears without feeling utterly stupid. He couldn't understand why he suddenly felt that way, he'd always been close to his mother and had never had trouble opening up to her before.

A sudden rush of air and a loud thump startled Jack out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the reality of his math class. He looked up to find Mr Baker standing above him, a frown on his moustachioed face and the textbook with which he had just banged the desk held loosely in his hand.

"Do I have your attention now, Mr Darby?" his teacher asked as his classmates began to giggle.

"I-I... Sorry, Mr Baker. I was just..." Jack stammered in reply, embarrassed and out of words.

"Daydreaming? Yes, I could see that. Stay back after class, I want to speak to you."

"Uh...yes, Mr Baker."

Jack lowered his eyes as Mr Baker returned to the front of the classroom, turning his gaze aside to see Vince laughing silently at him from the back of the room.

Great, that was all he needed.

The student sat silently as his teacher flicked through the papers on his desk, back turned to hide the decisive intentions written over his face. He could hear the rowdy excitement of his fellow students outside, making their exit to weekend freedom without any thought for the poor individuals still trapped inside, locked away in detention...or worse.

Jack repressed a sigh, wishing he was in detention rather than waiting to face the interrogation he knew was coming. He had faced the questions of Mr Baker only once before, following those first few months after he had met the Autobots and had subsequently spent all his time with them, instead of studying. Those questions had been hard enough to answer, but this time... He had never wanted to become an accomplished liar.

Having found what he was looking for, the teacher turned to face him and walked slowly between the rows of desks, a frown creasing his usually smiling face. It seemed to take an age for him to reach the back of the room.

"Jack," Mr Baker began, taking a seat on the desk beside Jack's own and handing over the piece of paper, "this is the second test you've failed this semester. You didn't hand up your last assignment, and you barely passed the one before that."

Jack turned the test paper over in his hands, taking note of the red markings scrawled all over the spaces where he should have completed his answers. A sense of dread filled his stomach as he realised that word of his recent failings would be reaching his mother soon; there was no doubt she'd be disappointed in him.

Again.

"I've had you in my class for three years now, Jack, and I know that you're capable of more than this. It's unlike you to be so complacent about your work, and to be so distracted in class. And from what I've heard, math isn't the only subject you're struggling in, am I correct?"

The boy kept his eyes down, reading – but not necessarily heeding – the comments written on the top of the page over and over. It was true, he had let his studies slip, but it hadn't been intentional. How was he supposed to concentrate when his family seemed poised to disintegrate around him?

Still, the thought of letting his mother down caused a sting far more painful than the bespectacled gaze he could feel Mr Baker pinning on his shoulders. She had enough on her plate already without having to worry about his performance at school. Wordlessly, Jack nodded in reply.

"I don't have to tell you that this is unacceptable, do I?" The teacher asked, reaching out to take the test paper back.

"No, Mr Baker."

"Care to tell me what's going on?"

Now Jack did sigh. If he was honest with himself, he had been expecting this for some time now. But it hadn't made him wise enough to prepare an answer, let alone a believable excuse.

Yet, as stupid as it seemed, part of him didn't want to make an excuse. Part of him was sick of lying, sick of keeping his mouth shut and swallowing his thoughts, as if they weren't important enough to share or worry about.

"Jack," Mr Baker pressed, almost gently.

Jack looked up, meeting his teacher's blue eyes with apprehension. "Ah it's...it's private, Mr Baker."

Mr Baker nodded, scratching at the corner of his mouth where his white moustache curved inwards rather than outwards. "It usually is," he admitted knowingly. "And if it is, well, you don't have to tell me about it."

Jack simply nodded in response, lowering his eyes again.

"However, I can't allow you to continue this way, either. You need to lift your game, Jack, or you won't be taking the classes you chose for next year. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr Baker," the boy replied softly. "It's just..." Jack stopped himself, unsure of what to say next. His teacher was right, he couldn't continue down the path of failure without accepting the consequences, nor could he expect his teachers to accept his silence on the matter.

Jack could sense Mr Baker's eyes watching him, the man waiting patiently for him to continue. He couldn't say that he'd ever enjoyed Mr Baker's classes – who in their right mind would ever enjoy math class – but it hadn't taken long for Jack to develop a deep respect for the elderly teacher. For one thing, he cared for his students, unlike others, and never seemed to judge or criticize without due cause.

Jack bit his lip, finding himself at a crossroads. For months now he had remained silent, unable – or perhaps, unwilling – to share his thoughts with anyone. After all, what was the point of speaking when no one was going to listen anyway? Arcee had certainly made it very clear that she didn't want to hear his thoughts on anything.

And now here he was, sitting before a man that, regardless of his reasons, was waiting to hear him.

"It's just that," Jack began again, steeling himself, "someone close to me is pregnant and it was totally unplanned and unwanted and..."

The boy suddenly silenced himself, feeling his stomach churn as his rambled admission replayed over in his head. Slowly, he raised his gaze to look Mr Baker in the eyes, waiting for a response. He realised that he had never known the school to be so silent.

"I see," Mr Baker said eventually.

"I-I think she wants to get rid of it but she doesn't talk about it and..." he sighed, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I just don't know what to do."

Mr Baker nodded as he scratched absently at his mouth again, his blue eyes almost piercing. "I know it's a personal question, Jack, but I have to ask: is the baby yours?"

It took a moment for Jack to realise what had been said; when he did, he couldn't have been more shocked. "W-what?! No, no it's not mine, she...she's just a good friend, I..."

"It's okay, Jack, I'm sorry but I just wanted to be sure. So this friend of yours, is she still with the father, or...?"

"Ahh, no, she doesn't...it's complicated."

"Uh huh."

Jack looked down at his trembling hands, unable to recall another moment in which he had felt so awkward. What was he supposed to say now, there was no way he could tell the entire truth?

Idiot, Jack, he told himself, regretting his decision despite the small weight that had lifted from his shoulders. Primus, he couldn't even confide in his mother and here he was, opening up to his teacher?!

"It's a difficult situation, Jack, and one I must admit I've never been faced with myself," Mr Baker finally spoke, not taking his eyes off the boy. "But it seems to me that any decision your friend might make has to be hers, and the father's. It might be that she isn't ready to talk yet, but it could also be that she is scared of being judged too. For now, I think the best thing you could do is let your friend know that, when she's ready to talk, you'll be there to listen. I know you have good intentions, Jack, but there's only so much a friend can do."

Jack couldn't help but smile slightly at his teacher's advice, although he was certain it would have looked more like a grimace. His words sounded strikingly like the plea his mother had made a couple of months ago, as odd as it had sounded at the time. It seemed, however, that neither of them were able to help when the waiting became too painful to bear. There was a limit to how many times he could offer to listen, there was a limit to how many times he could stand the angry tirade of insults or accusations...

...or worse, the silence.

He found himself running his hand through his hair again, unsure of what to say next. He felt like a fool, embarrassed beyond all belief at his inability to control himself and stay quiet in the first place.

"Jack," Mr Baker finally said, realising that the boy was out of words. "I appreciate your honesty in telling me about this, it can't be an easy situation for you."

Once again, Jack simply nodded in response. He watched with downcast eyes as his teacher picked up the test paper which had been put aside on the desk and held it out for him to take again. The student accepted it without a word, shame filling him once again.

"Look, Jack," Mr Baker continued gently. "I don't want to make life difficult for you, but as I said before, I can't let your performance to continue like this. I would like to offer you some individual tutoring just to help you get back on track; perhaps an hour or two after school each week?"

Jack bit his lip as he considered his teacher's offer; if he accepted then there was no way he'd be able to prevent his mother from finding out about his failings. Yet he could feel Mr Baker watching him, waiting for a response and realised that, although it hadn't been stated that way, he really wasn't being given a choice.

"Thanks, Mr Baker," he finally relented, feeling no better than he had when he'd first walked into class that afternoon. "I appreciate it."

"Good. How does Wednesday afternoon sound?"

"Umm...yeah that's okay, I don't normally work on Wednesdays."

"Good, good. Honestly, Jack, you're a capable young man and with some extra lessons it won't take you long to lift your grades, I'm sure of it. Now, unless you have any questions, you're free to go. And remember Jack, just as you are there to listen to your friend, you know where I am, if you need to talk. Okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Mr Baker. I-I really appreciate it."

Jack stood from his desk somewhat hurriedly, desperate to escape a situation far more uncomfortable than first expected. He had been kidding himself believing that life would carry on without consequence if he just let things slide; he had to pull himself together, and not just for his own sake.

To be continued.

So there you go, I hope you enjoyed! And as promised, some answers:

Firstly, Mademoiselle-Loyale491, the exact point at which this fic occurs remains a little flexible, however, it best fits between 'Crisscross' (as you rightly pointed out) and 'One Shall Fall' in Season 1. I may pinch a few ideas from later episodes/seasons, but given my complete disappointment (to put it nicely) with Seasons 2 and 3, the likelihood of me pinching a lot is pretty low at this point.

Second, a number of you asked about Knock Out's involvement, whether he will find out about his impending 'fatherhood', and what he thinks about it all. Well, I really don't want to give anything away, aside to say that all will be revealed in time... Yeah, that's not the answer you wanted, huh?!

And to AnonymousZGirl, who left 2 reviews concerned that I had abandoned this fic: fear not! Although it will probably take me some time to update again, I definitely will not abandon it!

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated :)