Author's note: I'm so sorry I haven't done anything with this story in so long! I've been in and out of the hospital for the last year with bone and lung issues. It's under control now though, so I'm back to writing finally. I decided to rewrite the chapter after noticing several embarrassing errors/typos. So this is still the same story, I'm just not sure how to delete the one I previously had uploaded. Anyway, I don't own the transformers, all rights reserved to where they need to be.

Warnings: Yaoi, past rape, rape recovery, mpreg, angst, swearing, etc. You get the picture, it's going to be a drama filled story.

This is AU, so some characters will be different/or don't exist at all anymore. Quintessa is dead, the alien ship at the end didn't happen, Cybertron is back to its former glory, so I'll try and make it as interesting as possible.

'In mind'

"Talking out loud"

Any words I make up or may overlap with others, I'll put in, (These) and write in what they mean.

Enjoy!

Spark

~Prologue~

It all started on Earth, 31 years after the defeat of Quintessa, and the disappearance of the Decepticons.

Optimus Prime and the other transformers remaining on Earth rebuilt their home world without the need to suck mankind's home of its resources and core. In doing so, an alliance was formed between the organics and Autobots, they were no longer hunted like cyber-dogs.

The two plants were practically on top of each other for nearly 15 human years before Cybertron was strong enough to begin shifting away from Earth.

But there was still much work to be done on the significantly smaller planet, so Bumblebee opted to stay on the planet that had been his home for most of his life.

With a select few autobots to continue with helping other autobots and incoming Cybertronian's that received the call from Optimus of their home world's rebuilding, Bumblebee for once, felt he had found his place in this mess.

Then…

It all changed for Bumblebee.

With Cybertron coming together quicker than expected and shifting away, he was left with a choice of either returning to a world he had never truly known to live with his kind in peace or staying with humankind and watching over them in case Decepticons ever reappeared.

With the rest of his team and friends now returning to Cybertron and Optimus being pronounced as king of the Cybertronian's, he felt alone.

He waited three more years, watching his berth home slowly drift further and further away before giving in and leaving Earth behind to go to Cybertron where Optimus and his friends waited, greeting him with open arms, and joyful shouts.

At first, everything was wonderful for the little yellow autobot. He felt at home and like he belonged. Being one of the youngest autobots, Bumblebee stayed close to Optimus and those he trusted, like a sparkling getting a feel for his world.

He was trained by bot-teachers in new fighting styles, languages of different bots, and learning to take care of himself all while staying in the empire Optimus built up around them.

On a cold harsh night, a cyber storm blasted across the planet.

Afraid of the storm brewing beyond the metal walls of the kingdom, Bumblebee left the safety of his room and ventured to Optimus's unguarded one, where the larger bot laid on his berth recharging after a long day of trying to make agreements and settle old problems before the planets breakdown.

Optimus had not been feeling well throughout the solar-cycle. His body felt as if it were overheating, but despite the constant warnings that flashed through his optics, Optimus ignored them, until his body began shutting down forcefully. Forced to retire to his berth, Optimus hoped to not be disturbed for a cycle to rest.

Startled from his recharge, upon seeing the little autobot entering his room through blurry optics, something over-rid Optimus's system and he found himself in the dark and believing he had simply slipped back into a forceful recharge.

But at the surface, Bumblebee found himself paralyzed in place with fear, optics wide and vents stalling.

Staring back at him was not the bossbot that took care of him and protected him… Staring back at him was not the gentle blue optics he was used to seeing… no, they the sinister eyes of Quintessa's manipulation.

The power to control Optimus.

System screaming for him to run, warning signs flashing, deeming the much larger autobot a threat, Bumblebee couldn't move, his frame refused to allow it.

All he could do was watch as the blue and red autobot climbed out of his berth, approaching the little trembling autobot frozen in his doorway, still clutching the handle in his servos.

Reaching out towards Bumblebee's face, Bumblebee flinched away, expecting his old friend to wrap his strong hand around his throat and offline him permanently.

Memories of Optimus nearly killing him, tearing him apart and throwing him around as if he were only a cyber-doll flashed through Bumblebee's mind, making him tremble only harder, causing a faint clink sound to echo through the heavy silent room.

Brushing a servos over Bumblebee's helm, the touch alone made Bumblebee flinch, but not dare jerk away out of fear of it causing the larger bot to attack.

Allowing Optimus to skim his servos over his face, neck, and shoulder plates before finding their way down past his bee like wings, circling around to stop just below his chest plates, stroking the metal almost lovingly.

Bumblebee inhaled sharply at the gentle touch, wondering just what was going on in the older bots helm.

"You're a perfect carrier little yellow one."

That simple sentence should have jolted Bumblebee into fight or flight mode, but his mind had long gone blank with terror and hardly registered what rumbled deep in Optimus's chest as his sinister optics glinted with something cruel.

That night, Bumblebee's cover in his valve was broken, his carrying chamber was penetrated, and Optimus's mind blank and erased of what happened the next morning.

The only trace of something being out of place when the older autobot woke, was spots of energon on his berth, but he simply wrote it off as his own, and ignored the dents in his doorknob.

~Chapter 1~

Bumblebee's Discovery

Heaving the last of his short lived meal into the toilet bowl, Bumblebee shudders and inhales painfully fast through his vents, trying to cool his heated body, slick with lubricant. Warning signs flashing that Bumblebee is beginning to work his engine into overdrive, the small bot takes in a single deep, slow, breath, successfully beginning to cool down his furnace like body.

Clearing away the blurriness in his optics and shaking his head, Bumblebee ponders, 'Why is this happening? This has gone on for nearly a deca-cycle now… what is wrong with me?' Shakily rising to his pedals, the yellow autobot moves to the door, leading back into his berth-room.

Sliding open at the push of a blue button, Bumblebee steps into his room and trudges heavily over to his berth, half collapsing, half sprawling out onto it's soft surface.

Sighing, Bumblebee rolls onto his side, bringing his knees up to his chest plates and wraps his arms around his midsection.

The cramps he feels twisting at his internal parts is almost unbearable and makes him feel hot to the touch again. 'Maybe when I came back to Cybertron my system wasn't immune to whatever viruses may run in these new and very old bots that came home? Maybe one of them passed a bug to me while in training?... Or simply gliding past each other on the streets.' Bumblebee thinks, hoping whatever he has isn't a system-threatening virus that could offline him the longer he waits. 'But that can't be… I have a chip installed that would alert Ratchet and I if that happened… maybe it's malfunctioning or a defective?'

Sitting up as his berth-room door slides open, Ratchet walks in and smiles, seeing the young yellowbot up. "It's about time you got up B, Optimus was thinking of coming in here himself and getting you up!" Ratchet attempts to joke, not noticing the way Bumblebee tenses at the name and shudders, curling into himself further. Taking Bumblebee's silence for him not being in a good mood, Ratchet sits at the edge of the berth and says, "We had an issue in the city, the alarm was going off, but you didn't show up. How come?"

"I didn't hear the alarm go off," Bumblebee lies glancing out the window at the metal bell chiming that it is now noon human time. 'I hoped that I would just be forgotten and be able to get away with skipping out.' Bumblebee depressingly thinks, bowing his head at his failure.

Still in his go-happy mood, Ratchet gazes around the room with a smile on his helm. "Well I see it's gotten easy for you to keep your berth-room clean! About time! Seems you're finally growing up B!" He says with far too much enthusiasm for Bumblebee's exhausted system to even pretend to care about and fake a smile.

Finally noticing the lack of response coming from the small yellowbot, Ratchet frowns at the lubricant coating Bumblebee's frame in a thin sheet already in the process of drying. "Are you feeling okay B? You aren't looking so good," The medical side in Ratchet says, coming closer to scan Bumblebee's system worriedly.

Jolting back at the sudden movement, Ratchet stops, confused by Bumblebee's frightened form. "What's wrong B? Has something happened?" He asks.

'Now that I think of it, he's been off for awhile…'

Shrinking further back when he tries to reach out for him, Ratchet's frown deepens. "What's going on with you?" He continues to pry, not yet noticing the looming red and blue autobot standing behind him.

"Leave him be Ratchet, Bumblebee is obviously sick and needs berth-rest," Optimus states in his neutral, booming voice that has never once left room for argument or commentary.

Jumping, Ratchet spins around and looks up at the taller bot. "Oh! When did you come in? I didn't even hear you," Ratchet laughs putting a hand on his chest plates. "Bumblebee doesn't appear to be feeling well and I wanted to scan him for a virus, you know how he gets boss, doesn't tell anyone he's sick, hurt, or practically dyi-" Both Optimus and Ratchet glance at Bumblebee, remembering when he had been leaking energon for weeks before collapsing face down in the throne room.

He nearly offlined for good.

Clearing his throat and vocal cords, Ratchet looks back up at Optimus.

"I don't believe that will be necessary Ratchet, Bumblebee has learned a lot since that time and I have faith that if something were wrong, he would come to us," Optimus states never taking his glowing blue eyes off Bumblebee's brighter baby blue ones.

Resting his hand on Ratchet's shoulder before he can argue, Ratchet closes his mouth. "We will leave you to rest now Bumblebee, if you are in need of anything, contact Ratchet or myself. We are never far away." With that, Optimus grips Ratchet's shoulder a bit tighter in warning not to argue and pulls him from the Berth-room.

Once in the corridor and the door slides shut behind them, Ratchet pulls his shoulder free and turns to Optimus crossing his arms.

Optimus maybe his leader, but he is also his friend and he is also Bumblebee's. "You cannot honestly believe that Bumblebee will come to us Optimus! He thinks he's a burden! Even after talking with other bots and being trained and finishing out school he never broke himself of that habit! We can't just wait until he collapses again! He almost offlined PERMANENTLY from it!" Ratchet yells, chest plates heaving, servos clenched into tight fists at his sides.

Thankfully the rooms are soundproof or Bumblebee may have heard him.

Having listened to Ratchet's mini rant, Optimus can't help but agree with him. But he also knows Bumblebee is a bit older now, matured, and has more knowledge of their kind and what is out there. He uses his knowledge to his full extent to help others, he may already know what he has and be helping himself for all they know. If that is true, they cannot intervene, he is nearly a fully grown autobot now.

"He may already know what he has Ratchet, he is not a sparkling anymore my friend, he has reached an agreement where he still feels the need to cling on to a sire and a carrier, but he has neither and that has pushed him more into bothood where he will solve problems on his own," Optimus says calmly and collectively against the smaller hot headed, worried bot.

"Maybe," Ratchet mumbles walking away, helm bowed deep in thought.

Watching the autobot go, once he rounds the corridor Optimus's broad shoulders sag and he lets out a deep sigh through slowing vents. Looking at Bumblebee's closed door, he wonders if this is something more. 'Would he truly hide something so grave?' Shaking his helm, Optimus turns away from the door and starts down the corridor in the opposite direction. 'I did say I would leave him to rest, I won't push him.'

Deep down in his spark, Optimus knows something is seriously wrong with his scout and it runs much deeper than any sickness. He has avoided their team for many deca-cycles (weeks) now and doesn't speak much to anyone, not even him.

It's very unlike him and it worried Optimus, Bumblebee has been by his side through everything he could imagine. In the face of the death of their friends, loved ones, and family, he has always stayed, even when he opted to remain on Earth to help bring home more Autobots.

'Or maybe he has found a mate and been rejected? It happens with autobots his age, still so young with little experience. Especially Bumblebee, as far as I know he is the youngest autobot here on Cybertron. Not many autobots would even think of being with a bot his age, all other bots are much older, more experienced, and most mated.' Optimus ponders entering the royal Chambers, too deep in thought to acknowledge the guards, watching him with worry.

Sitting down on his berth, Optimus puts his helm in his hands. Tapping a servos on his helm in irritation, the simple thought of Bumblebee even wanting another autobot and thinking of even leaving Optimus, sends spikes of pain through his system. 'Who could it be? Surely it couldn't be one of the team members? Could it? No, he calls them his brothers. There is no way. It must be an autobot outside of us, but who? A guard? Someone from the market? Oh Primus I do hope it isn't that filthy farmhand bot!' Groaning and becoming angered by his own thoughts, Optimus gets up and storms over to the window, overlooking the growing cities and world he longed for, for so long.

To be King he wished he had a queen. A bot to wake up beside and hold close when things get rough and hard to handle. Deep down in his spark, Optimus knows he wishes his little yellowbot would be that one, his queen to stand by his side.

He's proven himself more than worthy of it, especially after breaking Quintessa's trance she had over him. If it hadn't been for Bumblebee's words, his actions, Optimus knows he would have destroyed everything. For that, Optimus feels as if he shouldn't have been named king, but Bumblebee, for being the one to stop him.

Turning away from the window, Optimus leaves his berth-room to find Bulkhead and Hound. 'Maybe sparing with my old friends will help clear my helm and system.' Optimus decides, passing by Bumblebee's berth-room with a longing, sad look on his face, well hidden by his face mask.

With Bumblebee

Cradling his sore stomach as he surfs through the tablet in his lap, Bumblebee curses himself for his shaky servos's, kicking himself to get ahold of his frame before he causes a malfunction or dents something. 'Why did I freak like that when Ratchet just wanted to scan me? Why did Optimus have to be the one to come in and stop him? Why couldn't he just stay away… it was better pretending he didn't exist… now he knows something is surely wrong with me and will bother me! Stupid B! Real friggin stupid!!' Optics glowing bright blue, Bumblebee exhales deeply through his vents sending puffs of black smoke up with his rising temper and self belittling.

*Ring*

Search results finally coming through for his symptoms, Bumblebee calms almost instantly and is stunned to find only one result published by a medic-bot. Curious and terrified, Bumblebee clicks on the link and finds himself wishing he hadn't at the big bold black letters printing,

"A Carriers guide"

Hurtling the tablet across the room, watching it shatter against the far wall, but give no relief to the terror crushing down on his frame, Bumblebee leaps off his berth and races out of his room, sprinting at full speed down the corridor without care of who sees him.

'Carrier?! No no no no no!! I can't be! I can't be carrying a sparkling! I just can't! There's no way! There's no way! I'm barely out of being called a sparkling myself! I can't be- no… oh no no no.'

Unable to deny that it's possible, especially with the male population outnumbering female by millions, Bumblebee knows it's possible, but ho-

"You're a perfect carrier little yellow one."

Slamming to a screeching halt on his pedals, Bumblebee's optics widen in realization.

'That voice…That night, the night he-... Optimus is the sire… he's the father… oh Primus… what am I going to do?' Shaking his helm hard, Bumblebee smacks himself to get ahold of himself. Luckily no one travels these halls often, so he is alone.

'No! First I must know if it is in fact true or not! I will have to find a carrier test… 20 of them and take them.' Nodding with self determination, Bumblebee straightens his frame and puts on the look of total confidence and collectiveness. Resting his hand directly above his carrying chamber, Bumblebee's optics begin to glow brighter, determination settling in.

'No matter what happens, I can do this.'

2 hours and 43, minutes later…

"I CAN'T DO THIS! I CAN'T DO THIS!" Bumblebee screams over and over in the bathroom. Glaring back at him are 26 positive carrier tests, all lined up and smug with themselves. "DAMN IT!" Bumblebee roars slamming his fist down on the counter, shattering the metal and causing the tests to clatter to the ground as Bumblebee shakes and gasps, hunched over the sink.

Holding back a sob, Bumblebee presses his hands to his helm and backs out of the bathroom and collapses at the end of his berth, lubricant leaking down his face plates. 'I can't tell him… He wouldn't even believe me if I did! How would that conversation even go?! "Oh Hey Optimus how's the weather… Oh good, I'm doing well myself, hey by the way a few deco-cycles ago you went all Quintessa on me and raped me and now I'm carrying your sparkling or sparklings! So, read any good stories lately?" He'd probably kill me! Who knows if he's really even Optimus anymore or if he's just playing some sick game! Waiting for me to come to him!'

Jumping at a knock on the door, Bumblebee stiffens and holds his vents.

"Hey B? It's me Ratchet, I want to talk to you, is that okay?" Comes the muffled voice of Ratchet on the other side of the door.

Panicking, Bumblebee leaps off his berth and rushes into the bathroom slamming the door and beeps out like a sparkling hiding a broken vase, "Yeah! Give me a sec!" before scooping up the tests as fast as possible and throwing them in the trash beside the shower.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Bumblebee wipes his lubricant from his optics and puts on his best game face, hoping that he doesn't look as rattled as he feels. 'I really hope he isn't going to be here long.'

Straightening, Bumblebee turns and exits the bathroom, prepared to stride over to his door with heavy pedals, and freezes.

On his berth, arms crossed, pedal tapping on the floor, sits Rachet… looking rather pissed off and unhappy with the little yellow bot attempting to make himself look smaller and hide.

"Still unable to hold anything down."

It isn't a question, it's a statement.

'I need someone to confirm this. If I go to an outsider med-bot, they'd surely report their findings straight to Optimus. Ratchet is my friend.' Shoulders sagging, Bumblebee slowly nods his helm up and down, deciding it best to play dumb for now, just in case Ratchet hasn't stumbled upon the same studys Bumblebee did.

"I don't understand why, I don't feel sick until my engine starts to rev, the I feel like I'm a furnace… Any other time, my temperatures are normal, my systems are up to date. I don't think I have a virus either, not with the new chip you installed in my brain-stem… unless it's malfunctioning," Bumblebee answers, trying to play it from both sides.

Smiling sympathetically at the smaller yellow bot, Ratchet's optics shift away with uncertainty and he shakes his helm.

"What is it Rachet?" Bumblebee asks sitting down beside the larger nurse like bot.

Looking down at Bumblebee, Ratchet wonders to himself if he should ask the smaller yellow bot, it's such a personal topic and should only be spoken of between a…Mated pair. 'But… all of his symptoms lean towards him being a carrier… but who is the sire? Bumblebee came to me a cyber-cycle ago (A month ago) telling me his symptoms… I wrote them off as a cyber-flu, since he's still getting used to his new life here… but what I saw earlier, his reactions, the way he seemed to curl into himself as if protecting something… Perhaps he does not know the symptoms he has are those of a carrier and doesn't realize his defensive actions. He has known since he was a sparkling that he was a carrier and therefore had to be careful… but with the wars, maybe he never knew. Do they even teach sparklings coming into bothood about carrying in school?'

Servos snapping in his face, Ratchet jolts from his line of thought and comes back online to reality. "You okay Ratchet? You had a distant look in your optics," Bumblebee questions, but it comes out as half beeps.

'Poor thing never did get his real voice back completely.'

Clearing his wires, Ratchet takes Bumblebee's servos in his own. Staring down at the suddenly nervous silent scout, he takes a deep breath, preparing himself. "Have… have you found a mate B?" Ratchet asks a bit bluntly.

Bumblebee shakes his head leaving a sinking feeling in Ratchet's fuel tank. "I see… have you mated with any bot in the past few deca-cycle? Or further on than that B?" Catching the way Bumblebee's servos tighten in his own and his optics shift away, Ratchet nods and releases his servos to lay his hands on his young friends shoulder plates.

"Who B?" Receiving no answer, Ratchet frowns slightly taking notice of the slight shake to Bumblebee's frame, not quite knowing what's going on in the little ones helm. "Hey, hey, it's okay B… solar-night-cycles (one night stands) happen quite often that leave carriers believing themselves to be unworthy."

'That's what he thinks? That I had a one night stand with some autobot?... I'm not some cheap fem bot!'

Laying his servos over his flat ab plates, Bumblebee nearly offlines from fear at the touch. "You think I'm carrying too… don't you Ratchet?"

Stunned, Ratchet's mind reels. 'Too?! Too?!' Calming himself before he flips out, Ratchet slowly takes his hands away and folds his servos in his lap. "Have you taken a carrying test B?"

Refusing to look up and make optic-contact, Ratchet gently raises Bumblebee's chin, hating the way he flinches fearfully. 'Oh Primus… He doesn't think I hate him or think less of him now does he?' Putting on his serious voice, he only ever used when the Decepticons or danger to his team were near, Ratchet says, "Bumblebee." Catching the smaller's full attention. "I don't think any less of you, no matter who the sire maybe. What I need to know now, is if you've taken any carrying tests."

"26."

"Huh?"

Pulling his chin away, Bumblebee looks down shamefully and whispers, "I took 26."

Closing his optics, Ratchet sighs softly and says, "They were positive, weren't they?"

Feeling as if his throat wires had shorted out and burned, lubricant fills Bumblebee's optics and he beeps out, "Yeah."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Ratchet's engine reeves hard, 'Oh Primus, Optimus is going to short circuit.' Regaining his posture when Bumblebee shrinks away, probably believing his reactions to be anger, Ratchet rests his palm on Bumblebee's trembling thigh and says softly, "Hey." Looking up, Bumblebee's wide blue optics are full of fear and anxiousness.

Smiling encouragingly, Ratchet pats the bag he brought. "I brought my portable scanner, we can find out right here… right now, 100% positive, if you are carrying a sparkling B, okay?"

Tensing at the word Sparkling, Bumblebee bows his helm and wraps his arms around his middle in fear. "Will you tell anyone?" He beeps out, voice shaken, full of mistrust and fear.

Hating the vulnerability in the little autobots voice, Ratchet knows he should tell Optimus the results, he is their king and will always be their boss, no matter what… but looking into the terrified blue optics of Bumblebee, Ratchet finds he doesn't have the engine to break the yellow autobots limited trust in him.

"I won't tell anyone B, not a single bot, not even Optimus-" Missing the way Bumblebee flinches and curls his arms tighter around his middle protectively, Ratchet pats his leg not even looking in his direction, and turns to rifle through the bag he brought. "-But, I will need to put it on your personal file. No one but me will have access to it."

Turning back with the handheld scanner, Ratchet smiles softly at the nervous bot inching away subconsciously. "I just need to keep track of the sparkling growth." Noticing Bumblebee's panicked look, Ratchet quickly adds, "If there is one that is." Not that it's much comfort.

Patting Bumblebee's shoulder plate, Ratchet gestures for the silent young bot to lay back. "Lay down so I can scan B. It will take a few seca cycles (Seconds)."

Laying back without a beep, Bumblebee folds his servos over his chest plates sparkling-like and shudders at the seemingly gentle touch to his arm. 'He means well… but every touch makes me feel sick to my core…'

Watching cautiously as Ratchet begins the scan, Bumblebee's vents feel as if they stop working and his terrified thoughts take over.

'What if I am truly carrying? What will I do? Sparkling's are hard to come by and need both creators to remain healthy and form a strong frame throughout the carrying-cycle… Optimus can never know… but I can't go to just any bot… even if Optimus does not remember I am now mated to the older autobot.' Too lost in thought to notice Ratchet's optics widening in horror or the way his vents sputter, Bumblebee's thoughts continue on their downward spiral… 'What if he finds out? What if he hates me, blames me, or even kills our sparkling or sparkling's? I'm a smaller bot so Primus knows how many I could carry with Optimus being so much larger than me.'

Laying the scanner down, images of the single dot, the sparkling saved and already moved to a cryptic file for his optics and B's only, Ratchet looks sorrowfully down at the shaking bot, his optics distant and lubricant leaking from his optics.

Gently wiping away the lubricate, Bumblebee jots from his thoughts and looks up at Ratchet waiting. Sinking feeling flooding his system at the look on the older bots face, lubricant free flows down his helm and he rolls over, already knowing the haunting words that will leave his friends radio.

"You're carrying Bumblebee."