So, this is written because I'm not feeling well... My throat is killing me, and I look forward to getting better. Please forgive any errors. Anyways. You may need to read "I'm Yours" to understand some of this, but you don't have to entirely. What Ratchet is talking about is a virus that killed Elita-1 right after Bumblebee was born for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about. For those of you who do, this is when Bumblebee is quite a bit older. It's his turn to care for Optimus this time. Enjoy and please review! :)


Ratchet looked up from the readings that he had been studing for several klicks. He met young Bumblebee's optics and smiled. It was actually nice to see worry and concern in the Prime's son when Optimus wasn't completely healthy. But this time, thankfully, the concern wasn't fully necessary. "Well?" Bumblebee asked impatiently. Ratchet frowned.

"It's not the same one that your creator had. I promise you. It's not even life threatening," Ratchet said. He smiled internally when Bumblebee relaxed, losing the stress that had held his doorwings almost completely upright. "He is sick though, and I'd like it you could take care of him, rather than having Ironhide do it." Bumblebee deflated even more, but to his credit he didn't look away.

"Why'd he even get sick?" Bumblebee inquired honestly. He didn't want anything to ever happen to his last remaining family. Other than Megatron of course.

"His systems are weak to any type of virus. That's why I always try to keep an optic on him. Despite the fact that her virus didn't kill him, it did cripple his systems. Even though he doesn't know it," Ratchet answered. Bumblebee nodded seriously. "Bumblebee, he will be fine. Miserable, but fine."

"What do I do?" A grin made itself known on Ratchet's face.

"Keep him laying down, make sure he takes the medication I perscribe, and try to keep him comfortable," Ratchet replied. He handed Bumblebee a container. Whatever it held knocked against the side of it when Bumblebee grabbed onto it.

"Okay. I'll try. Thank you," Bumblebee said. Ratchet nodded, giving Bumblebee a wave to leave his office. The yellow mech reluctantly did.

Bumblebee caught sight of Optimus who was seated against the wall. His optics were closed, and he was shivering. His son sighed very softly, approaching slowly. He reached out and brushed Optimus' shoulder, earning him a light jump. Dim optics came back online. "B-Bumblebee," Optimus slurred. Bumblebee removed his servo at the heat his sire was radiating.

"Let's go home," Bumblebee said. He helped Optimus up and supported the extra weight until the red and blue mech was steady once more. "I'm sorry, Sire."

"Not your fault, Bee," Optimus responded. Both fell silent until they arrived at their house. Optimus fumbled with the passcode for a few nano-klicks. When the door slid open, Bumblebee stepped behind Optimus to make sure the ill Autobot leader didn't fall.

Optimus layed down on his own berth, and Bumblebee pulled a chair up to sit beside him. "Do you need anything?" Bumblebee asked. Optimus gave him a tired look and shook his helm.

"No. Not right now."

"Let me know when you do," the yellow bot said. He stood up and looked around the room. "I'm taking care of you entire you're better."