[WheelJack x Reader] Saved you -one shot-

"Hey sweetspark." Your staticky radio transmitted the message from Wheeljack.

"Wheeljack I'm trying to fly through turbulence. I don't think transformers who's alt mode are cars should be flying a jet."

"Look at me. Have I ever crashed?" Wheeljack said, his ego shining.

"No, but I have." You admitted. Wheeljack stifled a laugh.

"What's your coordinates? I can escort you." He offered.

You sigh in relief. "Thanks, Jackie. It's 22, 67, fourt- OH SCRAP!"

Wheeljack's optics widened as the line went dead. "(Name)? (Name)!!"

He plugged in the coordinates and shut off autopilot, pressing the gas. He got there in record time.

Wheeljack knew if you didn't give him the coordinates, you would've been lost. The small black jet you had been flying was covered in sand, and most of the parts were spread over the desert you landed in.

You had crash landed in the middle of a desert. Literally in the middle of nowhere and you were nowhere to be found. The white and grey mech searched the sand, spending hours looking for something, anything that could lead him to his sweetspark.

When dusk rolled around and Wheeljack still hadn't found you, he called your name desperately, one more time, before slumping to the ground in defeat.

--

Your optics on lined, but it was useless, the once well-lit cockpit of your small jet was Pitch black. You looked out the window, expecting to see the stars of the night sky, but there was nothing. With a shock, you realize you were buried, inside your jet, under the sand of a desert.

"Oh shit" you breath.

--

Wheeljack stood waiting as a ground bridge spurred to life in front of him. Through it came Ratchet, Arcee, Bulkhead and Optimus. The loner had never before been so glad to see the Medic, or the Prime. Arcee and Bulkhead? He was always happy to see friends.

"We've picked up on (y/n)'s coordinates. The ship's cockpit should be a couple clicks to the west." Arcee reported. The team saw no other reason to wait, so they followed Arcee to where you were most likely to be.

Soon, they came to a stop. Wheeljack looked around hopefully, but nothing was there. They were a click away from any scrap from your ship.

"This can't be right..." Arcee said, confused. She walked a few steps away, then began to tap on her armband-computer thing, while Bulkhead and Optimus scouted the area. Wheeljack flipped his facemask on and smashed the ground with the blade of his katana in rage.

--

You heard a huge thud from the ceiling and slowly but surely, a trickle of sand began to fall into the room from a newly made cut in the hull. The small crack is soon made wider from the pressure. Now sand was coming in by the bucketfull. This wasn't good.

"Wheeljack!" You scream, desperate for a way out. You try to smash the windows, but it only results in more sand. In the midst of your panic, you missed the muffled voices of confusion on the surface.

--

"Did you hear that?" Arcee demanded. "It sounded like (y/n)! I think the ship was buried when it crashed!"

Wheeljack's optics widened, and without further discussion, he dropped to his knees and began to scoop handfuls of sand and fling them away. Bulkhead wordlessly began to do the same. Optimus nodded at Arcee and the two started to help.

--

The sand was up to your chin. You were doing everything in your power to keep your helm above the stuff, but soon it was too much. You held your breath and sned out one more plea before being submerged by the grains flooding your ship.

--

Wheeljack finally caught sight of the black hull of your ship. He was getting tired, but the flash of dark within the yellow grains only gave him another boost of adrenaline. He started to fling sand into Ratchets face, making the Medic retreat from the hole that was being dug. By the time the top of the hull was uncovered, Wheeljack had successfully pushed away all four of the Autobots.

Once Wheeljack had the hull uncovered, the autobots saw the huge hole in the metal, and all the sand that flooded the ship. There was a stunned silence and time seemed to slow down. Wheeljack surged foreward and tore the hole open wider, ripping chunks off and throwing them yards away, almost hitting the mechs (and Arcee) behind him.

"(y/n)! (Y/N)!" Wheeljack cried, desperately sifting through the sand. He lost you again. After a moment of shock, Optimus began to help the wrecker, scooping out the sand. The two soon uncovered your helm, then your shoulders.

Wheeljack hooked his hands under your arms and pulled as hard as he could, yanking you out of the sand. As soon as you were laid out on the desert floor, Ratchet took a quick analysis.

"She's not breathing." Ratchet reported. Wheeljack turned to Optimus and Bulkhead.

"Do something! Anything!" He pleaded, gaze shifting between bots and your limp body. He didn't know what to do, his world was upside down and backwards, he was too confused to do anything.

"Jackie, calm down, we'll help her." Bulkhead said gently. He put a hand on the mechs shoulder and gave him a sad smile. Wheeljack dropped his hands to his sides and looked at you once more.

"Please, do anything you can, then call me. I- I need to go." He barely spit the whole sentance out before her transformed and sped away. The Autobots stared after him, some sadly, some (cough Ratchet cough) rolled their optics and began to carry you into the newly opened ground bridge.

Wheeljack sped away, reaching speeds he'd never need to use. The world flying by helped the wrecker to think, despite the popular believe that he didn't. He recalled memories, especially the most recent, you being pulled out of suffocation by his hands. Wheeljack could tell the image would haunt him for cycles to come.

--

You woke on a metal slab, immediately panicking, your blasters were out and you couldn't stop yourself from crying out a name. "Wheeljack!"

"Calm down, your fine," Came a gruff voice, you turned to see Ratchet approaching with a data pad in his servos. You briefly remember stories of a tough, old, grumpy medic that Wheeljack told. Is that him?

"I'm Ratchet. Wheeljack is on his way now."

"Where is he?" you asked, looking around.

"He needed some air, so he's coming in a few moments." the Medic answers, then moves away to deal with something else. He was so that grumpy medic from the stories.

You smile softly at the usual behavior of your sweetspark. You know he's reaching speeds higher than needed outside, as he does when aggrivated. Even so, you wanted him to be at your side when you woke. It would've helped with the sinking feeling you had in your core.

Wheeljack did get there eventually, but you were walking by the time he strode into the base and he was surprised, yet relieved when you limped up to him and embraced him.

"Hey sweetspark." The wrecker murmurs, rubbing circles into your back. You sigh and lean into his touch. "I'm sorry."

You look up at his worried, guilty expression and smile. "It's okay, Jackie. But you're going to have to fly me everywhere from now on."

Finally his walls crumble and he smirks. "Fine by me."

You nuzzle into his chest for a moment before letting go. Then he takes your hand and walks you out of the autobot's base and to his parked jet. You climbed in and strapped yourself to the passenger seat.

"Don't crash." you order. He gives you a thumbs up and starts the engine. Soon you are soaring through the skies.

Wheeljack flies long into the night and before you know it, he's driving with one hand while the other is around your shoulders and you lean into him, exhausted. He chuckles as your breathing grows shallow and you slip into recharge.

"Goodnight, sweetspark."