Lion in the Window - Christmas

Summary: Some traditions don't need a basis in religion for them to mean something. Sometimes all you need is the feelings behind it for it to work... and for it to stay with you.

He was confused, Bumblebee decided as he stared at his human charge who was currently sitting in the warehouse they'd stopped to spend the night in. His charge was a rather obedient child who did as Bumblebee asked, the only problem was that Bumblebee had yet to hear the child speak. Not once in the two years that they had been together had the boy spoken a single word; preferring instead to use the text messaging feature on the cell phone that after three aggravating weeks of miscommunication had finally been purchased. But even the youngling's communications via text message were simple and rarely if ever, said more than was absolutely needed to convey a single point.

And that was the problem, Bumblebee decided. He'd perused the material that the world wide web had to offer on the possible reasons behind Sam's refusal to speak, but none of them could accurately explain to him why the youngling felt comfortable speaking through text and not while using his actual voice. Hence his confusion in the entire matter, his vents cycling as he sighed, Bumblebee continued his search through the internet hoping to find something that would help him.

The warehouse was silent for the next hour except for the occasional sounds of Sam shifting to a more comfortable position, and the ever present hum that Bumblebee exuded. Having abandoned his search for the day, Bumblebee was instead skimming the internet for any interesting human customs that he could learn about in the meantime when he came across one called Christmas. It seemed to be a holiday that had become heavily commercialized and had moved away from its religious roots. One of the redeeming qualities of the human custom seemed to be that it was also a way to teach the sparklings and younglings the importance of giving to those less fortunate than themselves.

The more he read the downloaded collection of information regarding the holiday, the more Bumblebee became convinced that this was a human custom that his charge should have the ability to experience even if his Creators were no longer among the living. Checking his chronometer Bumblebee realized that in accordance with the human customs, tonight would be the 24th day of December; or Christmas Eve as it was more commonly known. Blue eyes darting towards where Sam was lying on his stomach, absorbed in the data pad holding the collection of school work that Bumblebee had painstakingly gathered for him, the yellow 'bot made a quick decision and stood from his seated position against the wall.

DoX

Sam was tired, but he really needed to get caught up on the school work he'd fallen behind on in the last few orns. To him it had seemed like one Decepticon ambush after another, and each consecutive attack had only made it harder for him to find the time to open the data pad Bee had given him. Tapping his fingers absently against the edge of the data pad as he read the history file Bee had loaded onto the data pad, Sam's mind wandered to the day's date.

It was Christmas Eve, and around the world other kids were spending the night with their families opening presents and just generally spending time together. It was on days like this that he felt the loss of his parents the most, he could barely remember what it felt like to sit and watch his mom set up the Christmas decorations, or to listen to his father curse as he hung the lights outside. Instead he now held memories of running and hiding, and while he knew his guardian was doing the best he could to simply keep them alive, a small part of him couldn't help but feel a little resentful.

He'd lost the will to talk after the Decepticons had first tracked his family down while they were looking for the glasses, and for a long time afterwards it had remained like that. Until one day Bee had gone to scout around the area they were staying in and Sam had tripped over a rock he hadn't seen. It wasn't until he was vigorously dusting his pants off that he realized he was muttering under his breath about stupid rocks.

That had been a year ago and while he still didn't talk, the reasons behind it had changed. It hadn't taken long for him to realize that his guardian had no idea how to raise a human child and had instead been raising him as though Sam were of the same race as the yellow 'bot. Horrified at the amount of resentment he'd felt inside, Sam had made a conscious effort to ignore the return of his voice in the hopes that the feelings inside wouldn't be known.

He was doing a lot better now, but he knew that he still had a ways to go before he could trust himself to speak again. Well speak without saying something completely and utterly insensitive and idiotic, something that would hurt his guardian in a way that he fervently hoped to never do. That's why when he responded to Bee's text messages, his own replies were as short as they could be without being totally ambiguous.

Looking up as the familiar sounds of his guardian standing reached his ears, Sam tilted his head to one side curiously as Bumblebee sent him a text message. There is something I need to do. I will return shortly, please continue working on your lessons and I will return as soon as possible. Nodding his head in acceptance, brown eyes followed the Autobot until he was no longer visible. Sighing softly, Sam turned his attention back down to the data pad still held loosely in his hands.

DoX

When Bumblebee returned to the decrepit warehouse, it was already dark. The moon had risen nearly an hour before and Bumblebee trudged into the dark confines wearily. Only the thought of what he had carefully placed into his subspace was enough to keep him moving instead of falling into recharge where he stood. Following the dim light to where his charge was still lying on his stomach absorbed in the data pad, Bumblebee sent the boy a text.

I'm back. There were no difficulties while I was gone?

Shaking his head as he smiled up at the yellow 'bot, Sam turned back to the data pad he was reading. Startled brown eyes lifted to regard his guardian questioningly when the large hand lifted the data pad away from him. I have something for you. Was all the mech would say as Sam stood, his arms lifting above his head as he stretched. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.

Confused Sam did as asked, his hands held out trustingly. Something warm, furry and soft dropped into the open palms, and Sam snapped his eyes open to find a small stuffed lion. Shifting his grip on the plushie, Sam's eyes darted to his cell as it chimed loudly to alert him to a new message. Reading the message, Sam's eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed repeatedly. His cell phone dropped to the floor with a loud echoing thwack as Sam turned to wrap his arms as far as they would go around the leg of his guardian. "Thank you." His voice hoarse from disuse rasped as he felt his eyes beginning to burn at the edges. "Thank you so much Bee." On the floor where it had fallen lay the cell phone, its display showing Bumblebee's text message. Merry Christmas, Sam.

DoX

Seven Years Later:

"I still don't get why we have to celebrate this human holiday, Prime." Ironhide grumbled as he watched Bumblebee and Sam chasing each other through the newly fallen snow covering the desert floor. "It's a human holiday."

"And Sam is now one of us." Optimus reminded his weapons specialist as his optics followed the laughing pair as well. "Bumblebee has informed me that Christmas has been a tradition for the two of them since Sam was ten. I see no reason to deprive them of this opportunity to celebrate in the relative safety that we can offer them."

"Hmph."

"Besides, it has been a long time since I have seen Bumblebee act this way." Optimus continued, his face plates curving into a soft smile behind his face mask. "How many vorns has it been since we have simply done something for the sake of it? To remind ourselves that we are still online to do so?"

"I suppose." Ironhide conceded grudgingly. "But if that younglin' tries to stick another bow on my grill again…"

"Then you'll let him." Ratchet's voice came from behind the pair as the medic joined them outside. "He only wishes for you to join in on the celebration that has for so long been only between himself and Bumblebee. It is the only way he knows of to try and begin including the rest of us. It is his way of accepting us as his family that he lost."

"Fine." Ironhide growled, his blue optics betraying his tone. "But I'm not letting him put lights in my cab."

"Aww. Don' be like that, 'Hide." Jazz said teasingly, his optics bright with mirth behind his visor as he stood behind Ratchet. "I thought the twinklin' brought out the color of ya optics."

"I'll give you twinkling." Ironhide said playfully, his massive frame moving to tackle the Special Ops agent into the snow. Jazz darted out of Ironhide's path, his laughter trailing behind him as Ironhide chased him in much the same manner as Bumblebee and Sam were doing. Optimus and Ratchet stood quietly on top of the hill, watching as Sam and Jazz teamed up against Bumblebee and Ironhide; The two small frames darting in and out from the path of the two larger mechs, their laughter ringing clearly through the cold winter air.

And its done. I realized that I didn't have a reason behind Bee's little lion that was on his dashboard, so I had to come up with one. Being that its so close to Christmas, this came to mind and so I wrote it. I hope you all like it, my mom was making comments about choking on the lint all that fluff was giving off. Plus I think that it gives everyone a little more insight into what Sam and Bee's early years together were like. Also it reminds everyone that Sam isn't and has never been perfect. Either way, Merry Christmas everyone, and I'll hopefully have the newest chapter of Experiences up by Christmas Eve.