Title: Crack in the Mirror
Chapter: 1/18
Continuity: G1 (part of ultharkitty's Dysfunction AU)
Warnings: crack, comedy (later: dark, angst, smut, violence, fights, action)
Characters: Blast Off, Hook, Onslaught, Bonecrusher, Vortex, Brawl, Swindle
Rating: R (whole fic, this chapter PG)
Summary: When Blast Off wakes up, he has undergone some serious changes. He and his team try to cope.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Beta: ultharkitty

Note: References to events and MacGuffins of the episode Sea Change.
Written for the prompt Transforming on the 28 Blast Off meme.

Blast Off woke up in pain.

This was nothing truly new to him, since they were fighting this war; it still grated on him.

His optics flickered online, vision hazy; his engine revved, and he groaned. He didn't notice right away that his engine sounded different, and only after a second rev he began to wonder. He lay on his front on a cold berth, most likely in medbay, and so he guessed his engine was the reason.

It had to be.

Blast Off couldn't remember what had happened before. There seemed to be a glitch in his memory files, because the last thing he remembered was that he went to his room in their base.

Great. He'd probably been shot on the battlefield and crashed. That was just wonderful. And most likely the entire Decepticon army had seen it. How disconcerting.

"You're awake," a voice said, sophisticated and cold. Blast Off reset his optical sensors, and could make out Hook. "Don't sit up yet. We still have a few systems to check with your processor online."

Blast Off acknowledged him with a brief nod, and tried to relax as the Constructicon plugged a small connector into a port near his audial. Coding prodded, and it was uncomfortable, but he didn't fight it. It'd be over soon.

The sharp image input from his optical sensors hurt, and so he was about to let his optics un-focus for the time he didn't need them. Before he could do so, the medbay door slid open. Carefully, Blast Off turned his head, seeing his team. All four of them.

It really had to have been a very bad crash if all of them showed up.

Before Blast Off could say anything sarcastic, Onslaught spoke. "How are you feeling?"

Blast Off shrugged. Something on his back moved, but he didn't pay it attention. "I'll be fine when the ache subsides," he muttered, irritated. He didn't see a point in lying, or hiding his displeasure.

Onslaught merely nodded, then turned to the Constructicons. "He hasn't seen himself yet?"

"No. He just woke up."

Blast Off's optics flickered, this time in confusion. "What do you mean if I've seen myself yet?"

He realised then how the other three were staring at him. Vortex shifted on his feet, and Brawl gaped like a primitive pre-human animal. Swindle seemed weirdly concerned.

No one answered him. They only exchanged strange looks.

It took almost a klik and another rev of Blast Off's engine before Onslaught vented air deeply, and asked. "What do you remember of Tlalak?"

Blast Off opened his mouth, but closed it again soon when he noticed his battle masked seemed to have been taken off. He had no memories of such place.

It was Hook who answered for him. "His memory banks are corrupted. Probably due to... the energy he'd experienced."

"What energy?" Blast Off demanded to know, but again no one responded.

Hook turned to another Constructicon, Bonecrusher. "Get the plate. We'll make this quick and easy." Then he spoke to Blast Off as he unplugged the connector. "You may sit up."

With a condescending huff, Blast Off did so. Heaving himself off, he saw his lower arms for the first time. They lacked his heat shields. Blast Off frowned. Something behind him wobbled, apparently some still-attached medical device.

"Sit, not stand!" Hook emphasised when Blast Off wanted to jump off the berth. Had they made these things higher while he was in stasis? And why did Onslaught seem so big?

This all didn't make sense to him. But he'd just awoke from stasis, so it was probably his sluggish processor.

When Bonecrusher came back, he had a polished metal plate in his hands, and a wide grin on his face.

"Slag," Blast Off heard Vortex mutter. "He's so gonna freak out."

Brawl nodded. Swindle backed up a little.

Blast Off shot them a glare, then his optics shifted to the plate which served as a mirror.

If Blast Off hadn't sat already, he would have needed to do that instantly. His tanks lurched, his equilibrium failed for an astrosecond, and his intakes hitched.

What he saw was deformed, but he still could make out what it should be.

What he should be. Or should not be.

The heat shields on his arms were missing, instead he now had glass on his feet - cockpit glass. Blast Off glanced down. His wings were gone, and on the back of his lower legs were now... what? Landing skids? He shuddered.

The worst part, however, wasn't that his battle mask was off as well, or that the vents for his reaction control system for space were gone. The worst parts were the four black rotor blades sticking out from behind his back.

Carefully, slowly, Blast Off touched one. He felt it, on his fingers - and the blade.

"Well," Brawl said. "He hasn't screamed yet..."

No, Blast Off hadn't. But that was only because every sound was stuck in his vocaliser. His engine stalled and vision got blurry again. Partly because his processor was still trying to cope with the situation, partly because with blurry vision he wouldn't need to see the problem.

"Uhm..." It was Vortex who spoke, but the word hardly registered. That was until Blast Off heard the rest. "At least you're still hot." The grin was so audible, the shuttle - ex-shuttle - could almost see it.

Blast Off's rotor blades began quivering, and the shock made way for anger. He ignored Vortex, and the rest of his team, head turning to Hook. "Why did you rebuild me?" The engine growl was less deep than he was used to, but still evidence of just how fragged off he was.

Behind the visor, Blast Off saw the Constructicon raising an optical ridge. "We didn't do anything. Let alone would we go through all the trouble of rebuilding and changing a space craft into a heliformer."

Blast Off's optics twitched.

"It happened on Tlalak," Onslaught began explaining. "I wasn't there, but Soundwave and I watched the memory files."

"And what happened?" Slowly, Blast Off started to think this all was some stupid joke. Maybe Soundwave even possessed something like humour, and had built this simulation for him. Not that it made more sense than the actual situation, but he still could hope.

The joke turned into a farce, however, when Brawl replied. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he kneaded his hands. "So, uh... we were on that planet, you know. For getting energon cubes. There was some hidden storage from that Decepticon computer, or something and..."

"They attacked us," Vortex continued. "The Tlalakans. The Autobots seemed to have given them weapons, or something."

"So we fled."

"Into that cave."

"And you fell in the pond," Brawl said, sheepishly, stepping back a little.

"And there was some weird light and stuff, and yeah... you came out like this." Vortex shrugged, but his visor lit up in what Blast Off knew was amusement.

Onslaught heaved air in an audible sigh. Swindle bit his lower lip, but the grin was still there.

Blast Off stared.

"You're telling me I fell into a pond and became a heliformer?"

"Uhm... yes?" It seemed that Brawl actually believed what he said.

"In a cave, in a pond. On an alien planet," Vortex corrected.

"Are you kidding me?" Blast Off's irritation almost became rage, the rotor blades increased quivering which made Blast Off even more angry. He jumped off the berth, fully intending to hit Vortex over the head, and Brawl, too, but his equilibrium betrayed him, and he didn't pounce. Instead he reached for the edge of the berth, optics flickering. Even the centre of gravity was different with these things attached to his back. It caused his engine to snarl, and Brawl to hide behind Swindle.

Onslaught tried to defuse the situation and stepped between Blast Off and the others, blocking almost his entire view of the other three, and Blast Off looked up.

He had to look up to meet Onslaught's optics.

His joints tensed and jaw clenched at the realisation.

"Calm down," the now bigger mech said, and it sounded soothing. Not condescending or amused like Blast Off had expected. Like the others had reacted.

"Calm down?" He still had no intention to just yield to the situation, let alone to accept this frame. "They are telling me that I fell into a pond! A pondchanged me! Do you believe that?"

Onslaught rubbed his forehead, another tired sigh escaped his vents. "I do."

At that, Blast Off could only stare.

"First off, I've seen the memory files. And, well, something similar had happened to Rumble once."

"Yeah, he'd become a tree!" Brawl snickered, loudly. "Can you believe that? At least you didn't become an organic!"

"...he fell into that pond and became a tree?"

Onslaught nodded.

Behind him, Hook began to tidy up instruments and cables, huffing annoyed, but he didn't throw them out. Bonecrusher seemed rather interested, but his curiosity was lost on Blast Off, however, who still struggled to make sense of things.

"How could I fell into that pond anyway?" Blast Off eventually asked, less angry, but almost resigned.

Brawl and Vortex exchanged looks, and it was the 'copter who spoke first. "You slipped..."

"Heh, after Vortex pushed you."

"So, you pushed me into the pond that rebuilt me?" Blast Off probably hadn't heard said and thought the word pond that much in his entire life than he had in the last few kliks.

"I, uh... you were yelling at me! And I didn't know that it could do that! At least you still can fly like that. Imagine Brawl had pushed you, than you'd probably be stuck here as a tank!"

"Hey! You're sayin' your alt's better than mine?" Brawl yelled, and punched Vortex' arm. Swindle disappeared somewhere, and Blast Off stopped looking. Leaning against the berth, he massaged his temple.

"Are you okay?" Onslaught wanted to know, reaching out for his upper arm.

"I'm fine. And don't touch me." Blast Off suppressed the urge to slap the hand away, but Onslaught withdrew of his own accord.

They were quiet for a moment, in which only Vortex and Brawl arguing could be heard, and Bonecrusher trying to stop them from hitting each other.

"Do you want to hear the rest?" Onslaught still stood too close for Blast Off's tastes, his voice having an edge to it that Blast Off didn't recognise and it irritated him. It wasn't like he was going to faint any astrosecond, was he?

Blast Off shrugged, the rotors moved, making his engine rev once. He'd never get used to this. "How did we get back to Earth when I became a heliformer?"

"Astrotrain was with you. Megatron send two shuttles because he expected a huge storage of energon."

Blast Off nodded, glancing up without craning his neck. "And I assume the other two slag heads didn't touch the water?"

"They didn't. They got you out with a cable from Vortex' alt-mode. You were unconscious, and well, just woke up here."

It took a while until everything sunk in, and Blast Off accepted that this wasn't some sort of simulation or prank. Onslaught just stood beside him, and Hook left them alone.

"Was the mission at least a success?" the former shuttle asked. If it was, then Megatron would be in a better mood and hopefully let the Constructicons would turn Blast Off back into a space shuttle. Blast Off didn't even want to think of the possibility of staying in this limited mode forever.

"It was, if it comes to the energon part, that is."

"When will I get my frame back?"

Even without looking, in his peripheral vision Blast Off saw Onslaught tensing. He knew he wouldn't like the answer, he let the other respond anyway.

"It doesn't have priority."

Blast Off huffed. "Lucky me."

"The priority will change if we can't form Bruticus."

"You won't combine for the next few days." It was Hook who spoke, causing Blast Off to wince. Since when was the Constructicon listening? "You're free to leave and to transform, but we have to analyse the data of the scans before you attempt to combine."

The soft click of Onslaught's engine betrayed the suppressed growl. "Why?"

"Because we have no interest in repairing your entire team, let alone messing with your gestalt program if something goes wrong. You won't attempt to combine until we got back to you. And now get your bunch of thugs out of my medbay!"

The way to the Combaticon base took ages.

They couldn't rely on Blast Off's shuttle mode any more, and so they all - except Vortex - had to fly in root-mode.

Blast Off didn't trust his new frame yet. Not when everything was still aching, and probably half the Decepticon army was gaping at the security monitor of the tower, waiting to see Blast Off transform and fail.

When Blast Off took off, he noticed another difference. Even in root-mode, the rotors were very sensitive. The air rushing over them, data of wind velocity, temperature, moisture popped up in Blast Off's HUD, and he didn't really know what to do with it. These sort of things had never mattered to him. At least not until the wind and temperature had a certain intensity.

Flying with something at his back, not covered by his body or increasing aerodynamics, was also new. The rotors wobbled, moved back and forth in their brackets of the rotor hub, and it irritated Blast Off enough that they began quivering again. He had enough time during the flight to try to stop them doing that, but he wasn't successful.

They still shuddered lightly when he landed in front of HQ. Vortex was already waiting for the team, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

It was a surprise for Blast Off that he didn't say anything. But then, his own and Onslaught's glare might have been the reason for the 'copter's silence.

"Get your energon ration. Blast Off, a whole cube for you. We meet in the briefing room in five kliks," Onslaught ordered. He didn't leave time for questions or protests, and entered the HQ first.

Blast Off frowned, Swindle and Brawl exchanged looks, and Vortex merely shrugged, following their leader.

In the briefing room, Blast Off stared dubiously at his chair. An energon cube in his hand, Brawl sitting opposite of him; he wondered how he was supposed to sit down and still be comfortable. For his fast processor, the 21 astroseconds he needed to pull himself together seemed to be an eternity. Eventually, he pushed the chair back enough to settle carefully on it. It was unnecessarily complicated with the rotors on his back, and he truly hoped he wouldn't have had the time to get used to it. Doors also appeared to be a hindrance now were they narrower than before, even if Blast Off's old root-mode had been bigger.

He'd come to that conclusion after one of the blade tips scraped along a door frame.

Brawl looked at him and his cautious movements, sipping his energon. "You know," he muttered, and it wasn't as amused as Blast Off had expected. "This is really, really weird."

"Hmpf." A huff. What should he answer to that? "Don't tell me..." Trapped in this inferior alt-mode, complicating everyday tasks needlessly, it wasn't only weird, it was highly undignified.

The rotor blades began quivering again, which they seemed to do whenever Blast Off was angry or annoyed. That he'd figured this out didn't help at all, however, caused this new habit to escalate into a spiral of even more annoyance and rotor quivering. He still had no idea how he could stop them from moving.

The door slid open, and Onslaught and Vortex entered. As always, Swindle would be the last to arrive.

Blast Off didn't know what Onslaught had planned to discuss, but he hoped it wouldn't be a mission already. He'd rather get used to this frame first, or preferably get his old frame back, before he participated in any of Onslaught's plans.

Swindle came in almost a klik late. His usual grin adorned his face plates, and Onslaught's usual engine growl sounded through the room.

He sat down next to Brawl, the tank nudging him with his elbow once. Vortex fidgeted next to Blast Off who sat unmoving, not even drinking energon.

Another growl of Onslaught's engine, and Brawl as well as Vortex went quiet. Only two sets of rotor blades were still quivering, though for different reasons.

Eventually, Onslaught spoke. "You all know the change this team has undergone," he began, and Blast Off was almost grateful that he didn't mention him in particular. "Megatron said it depends on the next few energy raids how soon we'll be back to normal, and the Constructicons had forbidden us to attempt combining for a while until they know more about... the current state of things. We still need to be ready for battle."

Onslaught took out a disc, and shoved over the table towards Brawl. "Brawl, look over the schematics and come up with suggestions for weapons Blast Off can carry and which could be installed."

It was only then that Blast Off realised that also his leg cannons were gone, and that he was completely unarmed.

The tank looked up. With the battle mask withdrawn, the surprise in the face was visible. "Uh, sure..." he replied, taking the disc. "Anything particular I should look for?" Brawl glanced at Onslaught, then at Blast Off, as if waiting for an answer from him.

The former shuttle shrugged. "Laser cannons?" it was more a question, since even he didn't know what systems could be added to the frame. But he was used to laser cannons, so he'd be most comfortable with something similar.

"Swindle," Onslaught continued. "You'll get the weapons. I'll give you both 40 joors."

"I may need more time depending on what weapon-" Swindle countered, but Onslaught interrupted him.

"40 joors. After that I want a report." The tone left no room for objections.

Swindle winced, then grimaced and crossed his arms. Vortex snickered quietly.

The 'copter stopped when Onslaught turned to him. "Vortex, you and Blast Off will train in transformation and flight tomorrow. I want you," this was directed at Blast Off, "to learn several manoeuvres and get used to the new transformation sequence. Start at 0900, I want both your reports at 1930."

Vortex' rotors quivered still - or again - at the news, and Blast Off ignored the sideways glance he got from the other 'copter.

At the plan of training and prospect of staying like this longer than anticipated, Blast Off had tensed. His rotor hub went stiff, and gears and bolts he hadn't had before made themselves present.

"You know what you have to do. You're dismissed," were Onslaught's last words. The official part was done, and everyone acted less tense again.

Brawl stood up, patting Swindle's shoulder, after which the businessmech got up as well. Blast Off wanted to wait till everyone was out, but Vortex seemed to wait for him, and didn't move.

Engine revving, Blast Off's rotors started shivering once more. It hurt a little due to the tension still lingering in his frame.

"What are you waiting for?" Blast Off spat, and drunk from the cube as though he'd stay seated till it was empty.

"Hehe..." the 'copter giggled, leaning his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his hand, the red visor fixed on Blast Off. "I'm waiting for you."

This was suspicious, and Blast Off had a slight inkling about what Vortex was hinting at. "Well, you don't have to," he responded, without acknowledging his wariness.

"Flight training is boring. I can show you something more interesting if you like?"

The suggestive tone should have made Blast Off stop from asking, but he huffed nonetheless. "Like what?"

"Like the pleasures of tactile rotary 'facing." The grin was audible in Vortex' voice, and Blast Off was about to decline and spit something in return, but he couldn't. Instead, he gasped, intakes hitching due to sensations travelling from the tip of a rotor blade into the hub. The intensity was such a surprise, Blast Off literally jumped up and stumbled back. Rotors got caught in the back of the chair, it almost made Blast Off fall.

The acute reaction wasn't truly because it was unpleasant; Blast Off merely hadn't expected anything like this. Being used to Vortex reaching for his heat shields on his lower arms, his wings or poking his sides, he hadn't noticed him going for the rotor blade.

Blast Off stared at Vortex, and Vortex stared back. Apparently, he was as surprised as Blast Off was, but he was the first who pulled himself together, and snickered.

"Heh, sweet..."

"Shut up!" Glaring, Blast Off took his energon cube, avoiding getting caught in the chair again. "Don't do that!"

"Hehe."

With a last growl, Blast Off went out, hissing an "ouch" when a blade scratched the door frame again.

"You'll change your mind," was the last thing Blast Off heard when the briefing room door slid shut behind him.