One Thought
Spoilers for Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon. What was going through Bumblebee's head when he was about to be executed? Here's my opinion. Focuses on Sam and Bumblebee, not slash, might be a little OOC, first story for TF
A/N: I hopefully used some of the terms right, the word count kinda sucks for a oneshot... and of course, Transformers doesn't belong to me, otherwise you would have seen more of Bumblebee.
One Thought
"Bee, I think they're gonna kill us…" Que told me. I knew all too well that they were. I made a series of beeps and clicks to tell him that I knew, even those sound bites sounded like defeat.
I had so many things to regret…too many that, logically; I couldn't count, for the moment.
…My charge, are you going to be alright by yourself…?
I know, lately that I haven't been a good a friend as you would have liked me to… You told me so yourself, before all this happened…
A series of alarmed beeps and clicks rang out notifying those nearest to Bumblebee that something bad had happened, the nearest, Ratchet, knew those series of beeps and clicks meant the closest thing Bumblebee could produce to as "Sam". The 'bot quickly returned to his alt. mode and he raced out the facility they were in, before any there could ask him what was happening.
Why was his charge here…!
"Bee…!" His charge's voice rang out, coming out clearer as Bumblebee raced out of the lane to quickly transform as he jumped over the lanes, only to point his clearance of his charge at whoever was terrifying him so much. He was allowed here, slag it!
He is my friend…
He is my charge!
"That's my car…!" Sam retorted to the guard angrily, as if he was proving something. Bumblebee watched as Sam walked away, yelling at him several times to follow. As usual, Bumblebee followed, knowing he was in trouble with his charge.
"Come on - Sam…!" Bumblebee tried to reason; through the many sound bites he could find, in hopes of to calm his charge.
"What is your deal…?" Sam asked of him. "I know your Blacks Ops stuff is important to you, and I'm not trying to diminish it or guilt-trip you or anything. But I never see you anymore…! You couldn't come to the garage, just once, to hang out?" Bumblebee knew very well that his charge was angry at him, and rightly so. And even though he hadn't meant to, illogical guilt surged through.
"Sam – That makes me feel bad –" Bumblebee tried to reason with his friend through sound bites. He could have come by more often…
"I hope you feel bad…!" Sam retorted angrily.
….He didn't mean that…
Right…?
…If I could, I would spend more time with you, perhaps when this war is over, when that term; miracles, as you humans believe in, happens. Or maybe I could still protect you and not fail you, my charge, like I have so many times, recently. My processors slowed in illogical shock, as it read that my said charge was near. …He could see this… He knew I had failed. That I wasn't going to be able to get out of this… And I wished, illogically, that I could save my friend as Que was pulled away. I wish that I could tell my charge to look away, to run away, to somewhere this wouldn't happen. To where I could still protect him…
To where he couldn't see his friends be executed in front of his eyes…
It made me realise just how much I wanted, all this time, to be with my charge, and how much more time I would have liked to be with him after this day…
But there would come a day when my charge no longer needed me. But I would always need him. No matter what happened, now and soon to come, I would not take back that Samuel James Witwicky was my charge. And that he was my friend. And I his…
…Goodbye, my old friend…
Nothing, logically, I reasoned sadly, would get me out of this, and nothing would get my charge to turn away and not watch as I, his friend and guardian was made to walk forward, to turn around as the pressure of the cannon behind my head. I declared my defiance to them, as I could see my charge, looking devastated, knowing he could do nothing after he had tried everything he could possibly, humanly, do. And under the despair I could see, the helplessness to save me was there. And I knew that he if anything would to happen to save me, he would have gladly taken it. But he was frozen there, unable to do nothing, just as I was unable to do anything for him.
…Goodbye, my charge…
I have to leave you now…
With that last sentiment, I hoped they wouldn't find him, and that he wouldn't do anything stupid in his grief.
But knowing my charge…
…He would.
And I wouldn't have been more proud of him.
It was my time to go now.