AN: I just wanted to write a small little zombie!transformers drabble and then I sneezed and woops 5,000 words came out. Silly me! Originally posted in DRABBLES, but wanted to continue it.

Bumblebee never quite understood what was with humans and their fear of the dead. On Cybertron once a mech or femme died their parts were reused; it was the spark that made them who they were, after all, but humans buried or cremated their dead. To a certain extent Bumblebee understood that. There were diseases that spread easily, and the only way they could reuse a dead Homo sapiens' parts was if they were an organ donor, though if it was a diseased human they couldn't do that.

Sam had shown him quite a few zombie movies to celebrate "Dia de los Muertos". He didn't have any Spanish blood in him, but that was hardly the point. They'd both enjoyed watching the zombie-thon, as Sam had labeled it, the good and horrific to the bad and fake. Some were laughable, like Zombieland, and some had Sam clenching a little tighter at Bumblebee's steering wheel, like the Dawn of the Dead remake. There were even a few that couldn't technically be classified as 'zombie', but just 'infected', like 28 Days Later, where the people didn't die but their brains got destroyed by the virus and so on and so forth.

There were many zombie movies and stories, managing to range through all languages and customs on Earth. And if it wasn't a zombie movie, then it was vampires, another undead creature that Sam had often made fun of. It was almost unbelievable, really, the fascination and fear humans had towards their dead, and the thoughts of the dead reanimating. All the Autobots thought it laughable at best, and just entertained their little organics when one of them wanted to watch a movie. The organics, like always, realized that it was just another difference between cultures, and that the Cybertronians had no fear of their dead.

None of the Cybertronians had ever seen what the humans so feared actually happening. It was laughable, really, be it dead coming to life or some type of virus that turned people into flesh eating, mindless creatures. But they had never seen a point where they'd have to send the Allspark cube off world and have it end up on a planet light-years away from their home, occupied by little fleshy organics that they could kill with a flick, either.

It did happen, though. A virus that passed through horribly easy means, like a bite, or through body fluids. Where it had started, Bumblebee wasn't sure, but it had to have been close by, because by the time it hit Tranquility, Nevada, there still wasn't a huge hubbub over it. Sam had gone out to tell Bumblebee about the news report, the two sharing a laugh over what was surely a hoax, when Mikaela had come running up, sobbing.

Mikaela was the first bite victim that Bumblebee had known, but at that point there had been no information that those bitten would become infected as well. Bumblebee had been unable to do anything but promise to keep guard for any of the crazed infected that might still be roaming around, Sam taking Mikaela into the house where Judy and Ron proceeded to comfort her. Sam, left without anything to do as his parents spoiled his girlfriend, texted Bumblebee that he was taking a short nap.

In hindsight, Bumblebee should have known what was going to happen. But then again, so should have Sam, a horror movie buff despite the fact some terrified him. Just short of three hours later, there was a short scream from Judy, and a shout from Ron. Bumblebee revved his engine anxiously out on the driveway, but otherwise did nothing. It wasn't until Sam jumped out of his bedroom window with Judy trying to grab at him that Bumblebee realized what had happened.

Sam ran to him just as Ron and Mikaela came out of the house to get him, but Bumblebee was faster than any human, pulling up and letting Sam in before they could get him. His Charge was, understandably, a wreck, and was crying with gritted teeth. The Scout had activated his holoform briefly to take care of the small area on Sam's wrist which was bleeding, though if it was from teeth trying to bite or fingernails, he couldn't tell. Bumblebee started driving to the Autobot base, the safest place he could think of, while Sam tried to calm himself down.

With Sam as distraught as he was, Bumblebee decided the best thing to do was use the special gas Ratchet had given him for just such a case, to calm panicking organics. He released it slowly into the air, noting the affects within minutes as Sam's eyes began to droop.

"I-I'm gonna take a nap, Bee." Sam scrubbed at his eyes, climbing into the back of Bumblebee's interior and spreading out.

Bumblebee said nothing and started playing a soft jazz tune for his Charge, dimming his windows so much that Sam would be unable to see the outside world, which was going to hell at a surprising rate. Once he was sure his Charge was out Bumblebee clicked on the radio, desperate for any news. That was when he learned how the virus spread, the main way through bites. It had happened so often in the movies, hadn't it? A person got bit, they got infected, they bit someone else. A vicious cycle that was now a horrifying reality.

The Autobot Scout immediately slammed on his breaks, some part of him realizing that Sam was already lost. His wonderful little Charge, the one who had saved Bumblebee more than he could have ever known from the horrors of the Great War, was sleeping unaware of the changes already taking place in his body, the ones Bumblebee could pick up on his scanner, and Bumblebee didn't have the heart to tell him.

Bumblebee slowly and carefully slipped his seatbelt around the teen, already burning up with fever and whimpering. The Scout kept a continuous scan on him out of habit, knowing the exact moment that Sam was truly lost. And the exact moment that his teen woke up as something more, still Sam, but not anymore. Bumblebee tightened the seatbelt, pressing him back against the seat even as the not-teen struggled, and locked his doors.

His Sam would have been devastated if Bumblebee ever let him attack anyone, and the Scout promised himself that he never would.

Five months had passed since Sam had become infected, and the human world had gone to ruin. It was almost funny to see how, not all that long after Mission City, all the humans that had been crawling around the planet like ants were now dead. Bumblebee just wished that they had stayed that way; that Sam had stayed that way. Maybe if his Charge hadn't have come back he would have been able to move on, to go back to his Autobots.

As it was, the Autobot Scout just wandered. It didn't take all that long for Sam to become complacent and just settle in. At first, when Bumblebee called his name, Sam appeared to respond. But as time went on Sam's mental capabilities began to wear, and he rarely if ever responded to his name. Bumblebee didn't let him go, though. No, though occasionally he'd let Sam out for "walks", so the teen would be able to keep some sort of muscle/motor control, he couldn't let the boy go.

In many ways, Sam had been the light at the end of the tunnel for him. A new, fresh beginning. Bumblebee's life had been filled with the Great War. It had killed his Spark-parents, it had killed many of the oddball Autobots that had pitched in to raise him and keep him safe. He'd seen and done terrible things in the name of war. Sam had provided him an out, a way of redeeming himself and a way of experiencing the childhood he was never really allowed to have. He had been better off than Skids and Mudflap, the Spark-twins that had reverted to childish troublemakers long ago, but it still had been a psychologically healing friendship for him. His Charge had meant a lot to him, they had become close in a short time.

And now his Charge was forever sitting in his backseat, safely guarded by a seatbelt, and unable to decompose enough to die, as far as Bumblebee could tell. It was unlucky for what few remaining humans there might be, but it was lucky for all the infected still free and roaming.

The Scout settled down just a few miles outside of Mission City, in between a pile up and free open space behind him. He couldn't move forward without transforming, and he wouldn't risk losing, or hurting Sam should he pick him up, so he stayed there. He ignored all of the pings waiting on his HUD, unopened comms that had been piling up for a while now, and slipped into recharge.

Miles glanced behind him at the zombies running towards him, and he urged himself to go just that much faster. There had to be about thirty of the damned zombies chasing him, and he'd only just run out of ammo. Fuck, fuck, triple fuck, what the hell was he supposed to do? Sure, there were cars littering the almost highway he was running on, but the chances of them standing up to the relentless pounding of the infected was unlikely. Miles had seen someone try that before, the poor bastard had ended up zombie chow within an hour, and there was no way in hell that he was going to put himself through that.

He was terrified, and desperate. It had been weeks since he'd seen anyone living, and he kept thinking about maybe holing up in a fairly decent house and making a perimeter around it, but he just kept heading towards his old home instead. That's what Millie and Nick had been asking for, after all. The two wanted to see home one last time, to have some sense of closure in a world gone to hell, and how could Miles say no to them?

Millie and Nick were the ones he had to stay alive for. The ones he had to make it back to after escaping this fucking horde. He could cuss fate all he wanted for accidentally setting off the one Screamer he'd found in a month, the one zombie that could actually fucking talk to its' fellow infected and let them know that there was a nice tasty meal nearby through a scream that echoed no matter where it was made. Cursing fate did nothing.

He had stopped being Miles Lancaster, high school student, hippie/skater-wanna-be, best friend of Sam Witwicky, greatest son ever, surprisingly intelligent, and a jock lunch money giver a long time ago. He was just Miles now, big brother, protector. Without his kids he was nothing. Without them he didn't want to be anything. And without him they would never survive.

But there wasn't much he could do with no ammo and a horde of the infected chasing after them.

Miles caught sight of the pileup in front of him. A fire truck was in the middle of it, and two cars were scrunched into the tiny space between it and the road barriers. If he climbed the truck and jumped off the back that would afford him some time, maybe even enough to find a car to hide in. There was only one means of survival if you had to pack yourself in a car, and that was by taking a dead body, preferably one that had belonged to the group of the infected not all that long ago, and pulling it in with you. The smell in the small confines was terrible, but it did the trick. If they couldn't smell you, and you were quiet, then they left you alone. It was his only chance.

Bumblebee woke to the sound of pounding feet.

It took him a moment to gain his bearings, but he did a quick scan of his surroundings as his systems came online, and he picked up a living energy signature not all that far from him. He shifted on his shocks in mild interest, and even Sam was sitting upright, the most excited Bumblebee had seen him in three months. He must have been picking up the scent of the human, though the Scout had no intention of letting his Charge at them. And Sam knew that by now, even in his current state, because he'd given up struggling a long time ago.

The Scout watched a figure clamber on top of the fire truck. The man paused only momentarily to kick off one of the faster infected that was trying to claw its' way up towards him, before he ran and hopped off the back. Even from his distance away Bumblebee knew it was a bad landing from the way the guy stumbled, nearly falling before catching himself on a nearby vehicle and starting to hobble along.

But the guy didn't have time to just simply stand there or try and walk off the pain; already the infected were piling on top of the fire truck or swarming over the vehicles on either side of it. He was too slow now to try and hope to outrun them but he was trying anyway, and Bumblebee had to give him his utmost respect. How this one person had survived these months while so many others had died was beyond him, and the closer he got the younger and younger he looked.

"Over here!"

Bumblebee finally called to the human, spark filled with indecision about intervening. He'd failed Sam, he'd probably fail this one as well, but he could try. And the guy, a teenager from the looks of it, instantly sought out his voice. The Scout already had a blond holoform out and gesturing wildly at his alt mode.

It wasn't until the teen was nearly upon him that Bumblebee recognized him as Miles. The boy had been a friend of Sam's when he had still lived in Nevada, but not long after Mission City the Lancaster family had moved states to Utah. Sam had been somewhat torn up about it, but the Scout had never heard much about Miles either way. The teen had ridden in him only one time, and that hadn't been enough to tell the Scout what he was about.

Miles dragged himself over to Bumblebee as fast as he could, showing no signs of recognition towards the Camaro design, but just a thankful, yet still desperate, look. He vaulted himself over the bed of a truck to add another obstacle for the infected to get through, slowing several down. The infection left them vastly inferior to a normal human's brain, but what they lacked in intelligence they made up or in sheer perseverance. They never stopped, and from the way he was dragging his foot he'd probably hurt it worse than the Scout had first thought, which was unlucky. The infected were nearly on him now, and if Bumblebee hadn't been there to slam the door shut after Miles practically tossed himself inside of his front seat then one of them might have been able to squeeze in behind him.

Bumblebee dissolved his holoform and locked his doors as the infected started to bang on his frame. The teen within him was shrinking into his spot in the driver's seat, slinging off his backpack and staring with a dark expression out the front windshield.

Miles looked out the windshield at the zombies already on the Camaro, knowing it was unlikely that they'd give up and go away with nothing to cover his scent. But there had been the military looking dude, which meant this car must be one of the few that actually worked. It was his lucky day; he might be able to make it back to Millie and Nick after all.

Movement in the rear-view mirror caught his attention, and Miles turned with a smile, ready to thank the man who had helped to save him. But it wasn't the man at all; it was one of the infected. One of them, straining against the seat-belt holding him in place and reaching forward to try and grab Miles, mouth opening and closing as if he could already taste him.

Miles tried to scream, cramming himself back into the dashboard to try and get away from the reaching hands, and oh fuck that was Sam, Sam a zombie sitting right there and making those little growls and—"No, no, it's alright! He can't get you, you're fine!"

Miles looked around wildly for the voice, but he couldn't find the source.

"He can't hurt you," The tone was firmer now, less calming and more commanding. "Put the gun down."

The teen hadn't even realized he'd been pointing his shotgun at Sam. It was reflex, really. Even though he had no ammo it was instinct to point it at the infected that was an immediate threat. Slowly, Miles settled it in his lap, careful to make sure it was on safety just in case he'd miscounted. After all this time he wasn't going to die by accidentally shooting himself, and he'd made it a habit to always flick it onto safety when it wasn't in use in case Nick or Millie ever picked it up.

But, for the first time in months, his sister and their friend was one of the last things on his mind. Right in front of him was his old best friend. Infected, now, and just as hungry as the others who were gathered outside the Camaro. And then, to top it all off, there was the disembodied voice of the military guy. Miles knew for a fact that he had seen the guy, and that the voice that had told him to put the gun down was his voice, so what the fuck.

"What is going on?" Miles asked breathlessly, staring at the snarling face of his old friend.

"With Sam, with me, with your foot, or with the world?"

"All of the above."

"I've scanned you and you've cracked one of your metatarsals. Also, I am Bumblebee." Miles thought Bumblebee sounded awfully tired, but it was rather strange for a car to sound tired. It was strange for a car to sound anything, let alone talk.

"Are you one of those things that were at this city?"

"Yes. As far as I know my race did not bring this disease down upon yours," Bumblebee's voice was mainly coming from the radio. "I've heard almost all of the theories. Bacteria, virus, a curse, stuff from outer space… I would never bring this willingly upon the human race, that I swear."

"No…" Miles finally tore his eyes away from Sam, moving so his back was pressed up against the window with the least amount of infected outside of it. He laughed without putting any emotion in it, "If you're with Sam then there's no way you could be bad. He was always terrified of everything. Did he… I mean, was it…?"

"He didn't suffer, if that's what you want to know. He was one of the first to go, back before even I knew what was fully going on. I put him to sleep and he just didn't wake up."

Miles knew that Sam was very much awake right now, back there in the backseat of this talking Camaro called Bumblebee and making hungry little sounds, but he also knew what Bumblebee meant. Sam Witwicky had gone to sleep and never woken up; the thing in there now wasn't Sam, just like the creatures his parents had become. It was just easier to separate them entirely.

"Alright, I'm pretty sure you know who I am, right?"

"Yes. You rode in me to the lake and the party."

"God, that's right. That seems like an eternity ago…" Miles stared out the window at one of the infected there, "Alright, so, my foot is broken, from the sounds of it, and I have no ammo. You are literally my only means of survival right now, so I'm banking on you dude, but it's super creepy that you've kept Sam around all this time."

"I would not allow him to go out and harm others; he would have hated himself for it if there is anything of him left in there."

"No, no, I understand. That I get perfectly. Sam was my best friend; he was an awesome dude, but…. It's cruel to leave him like this. We don't know if there's any of him left in there, but I'm pretty damn sure he wouldn't want to be left like this. He's not even himself. He's completely mindless."

"That's not true!" Bumblebee snapped, "The fever has destroyed most cognitive reasoning, yes, but he recognized his name for quite a while, and he doesn't bother trying to claw his way out of me anymore."

"Bumblebee, I've seen those things-"

"Do not call him a thing!" Bumblebee growled.

"-pick up a phone before. I've seen some just stand at the corner of a street and look up at a streetlight, waiting for something that will never come. They don't know what they're doing or why they're doing it; it's just there. It's just a habit hard wired into their brain. Something the fever didn't quite manage to destroy. It's like someone with dementia, but that's not Sam anymore. Dementia doesn't make someone eat someone else."

"If it's not Sam than what is it?"

"A monster."

Bumblebee had known Miles was right from the start, but it took a while before he could let the teen convince him that it would be best to let Sam go. For a short time Sam had been his world, his light, and then his light had been muddied, but he'd held on to it.

Now he watched in holoform as Miles opened his back door, turning off his sensors on his frame so he wouldn't have to feel it as the healthy teen unbuckled the infected one while holding his mouth shut and taping his hands together. Then Miles was leading Sam out and away from Bumblebee, and he hated it. They'd made a quick pit stop to pick Miles up some more ammo as per Bumblebee's suggestion, a quick, hopefully painless way of ending it for his Charge, but it had been Miles who had suggested the place. Right next to a river with a little wooden boat tied to a tree. Inside of it Bumblebee had laid the picnic blanket that Sam used for him and Mikaela.

Miles limped a few feet in front of Sam, raising the pistol he'd picked up at the gun store. Bumblebee had offered to make the teen an impromptu splint, but he'd said not to waste what time they had, so the Scout had let him treat his foot how he liked. He expected the teen to just shoot, but Miles looked at him.

"Any last words?"

Bumblebee stared hard at the figure stumbling towards Miles. It was the first time Sam had never been looking at him, because Miles was right. If something of Sam was still in there, then he'd be thankful to die. All the thing in front of him wanted was to make a meal out of Miles. The only reason the creature in front of him had ever paid attention to his holoform was because it could touch him and make noise.

It wasn't Sam anymore, no, but in a way it was. What used to be Sam now just embodied him. Bumblebee had foolishly thought that if he'd kept the infected teen safe inside him he could keep Sam with him, still. But he had lost Sam a long time ago.

"Goodbye."

Miles gave him a humorless smile, before turning his attention back to the creature coming at him. Bumblebee noted the way his expression instantly hardened and if he held any remorse for what he was about to do then it didn't show. In a way that comforted the Scout. It was just another war, after all. This time it was between the infected and the non-infected, and Bumblebee had chosen his side, hadn't he? It was just unfortunate that what was left of Sam was the opposing faction.

As soon as Miles squeezed the trigger Bumblebee shut his sensors down, only allowing himself to hear the pop as the bullet left the barrel of the gun. A few seconds later he let them come back online, staring down at the body of his Charge that was now on the ground.

"Did he ever tell you about our bucket list?" Miles asked, kneeling down and closing Sam's eyes before reaching under the body to get some leverage before starting to drag him towards the river.

Bumblebee hadn't realized the significance of the wooden boat until Miles mentioned it, but he remembered the day Sam told him quite fondly. It had been spent just the two of them; sharing their wishes and hopes for the future, even the silly little things. Sam had mentioned just wanting to float along a river, any river, and go where the flow took him. Let the river dictate which direction he'd go in completely. It had been a passing whimsy, but Bumblebee had thought it sounded like a good idea in a physical and metaphorical sense.

In a way, it was the best burial rites that he could imagine giving to his Charge.

The Scout went over to Miles and just claimed the weight of his Charge's body, carrying him to the boat and settling him down in it. He turned to untie the rope, and when he had turned back Miles had adjusted his body. Not with his arms folded over his chest like Bumblebee had come to understand most humans, at least in American culture, got sent off with, but in a position that truly made it look like he could just be sleeping on a boat that was taking him to an unknown destination. Relaxed. Free.

Bumblebee dropped the rope, and Miles shoved the boat off into deeper water with his good foot.

Miles had asked Bumblebee to drive back to Mission City. He regretted how far out they'd had them go for Sam, but he felt it had been a good thing. Closure for both himself and the robot. Now they just had to backtrack about an hour, and hopefully the Scout could get him back before nightfall. He'd get hell if Millie and Nick started to worry.

For Bumblebee's part, he was just content to be quiet. Compared to Ratchet and Ironhide, or even to his Prime, he was very young, but since coming to Earth he had never felt every second of his life so much. Especially on this day.

"So…" Miles stared at the moving wheel in front of him, feeling too drained to look out at the desolate landscape around them. "You mentioned that you got to hear all the theories. Was there anything substantial going around? I never got wind of much with everything going to shit so quickly."

"The most likely answer that I heard back then is an advanced strain of rabies." Bumblebee's voice drifted softly out of the radio. "It is similar in many ways, I've noted that personally."

"Oh, yeah, same." Miles joked lightly, "Maybe we can compare field notes."

"We could," Bumblebee agreed, "But I think mine will be substantially more scientific than yours. As fascinating as 'Fucker tried to fucking eat me' is, it won't help us much in getting an answer."

Miles laughed, and Bumblebee decided he liked that sound. The teen sobered up quickly, though, his group tightening on his steering wheel minutely.

"One of the biggest things I'd heard was that it was judgment day. Those who had sinned were left to fend for themselves." Miles sounded just as tired with his life as Bumblebee himself felt.

"When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth." Bumblebee supplied, pulling the line from one of the movies that Sam had made him watch an eternity ago.

"That might be entirely too true, because now Earth itself is the only hell I can imagine." The teen paused now, "But… would you like to see my reason for living?"

Bumblebee realized that Miles was not only giving him a way out but also a way in. The Scout owed the teen nothing, and the teen likewise owed him nothing. If Bumblebee choose they could go their separate ways, but the Autobot couldn't do that. After so long with Sam it only felt right to have a human sitting inside of him, and they already had a strong point of connection. Miles had survived this long, the chances of him knowing how to keep himself alive and his chances of actually staying alive only doubled with Bumblebee wanting to protect him.

And most importantly, Miles was offering to trust Bumblebee. A relationship could get nowhere without that.

Bumblebee had never truly planned to ever step a ped back in Mission City, although he'd rested on the outskirts of it for so long. But Miles led him deeper and deeper within the city itself until they finally reached a rather large apartment building. Then, ever so slowly, the teen led him up and up and up the stairs of the fire escape.

They had to go slowly. While Bumblebee could easily create no sound in his holoform, Miles could be easily heard, especially with his wounded foot. But neither foot nor fear slowed the teen down in the slightest outside of normal cautiousness, or what Bumblebee assumed to be his normal amount of caution. He'd never truly seen a human navigate an area and successfully avoid the infected, but Miles was doing quite well.

The metal fire escape creaked an unhealthy amount, but Miles kept going. And going, and going. Half way up they ran into one dead body, but the teen just stepped over it without a second glance, leading Bumblebee to assume he'd already known it was there. It wasn't until they reached the last floor that Miles stopped, the fire escape just about ten feet too short of giving access to the roof.

The teen opened the window to the last floor cautiously, before slipping inside. Bumblebee followed him effortlessly, offering his arm to steady the teen, but he was waved away. Instead Miles went about half way down the hall, toward the end where the blocked elevator and stairway entrance where, and knocked on the ceiling four times.

It was then that Bumblebee noticed the cracks in the ceiling, just as the covering was moved and a ladder was slid down. Miles started to climb up with some difficulty, but Bumblebee helped hoist him up when he couldn't manage his bad foot. Bumblebee climbed up after Miles, turning instantly to pull up the ladder at the teen's hushed urging.

"Brother!" Bumblebee was surprised by a young sounding, feminine voice, but when he turned around he was absolutely floored.

Clinging to Miles was not one, but two kids. Children! The little blonde girl with bright blue eyes and an angry pout on her face was very obviously Miles' sister, but the dark haired little boy appeared to be of no relation. He was no less thrilled to see Miles, though, because he was clinging to the older teen just as tightly as the girl.

Miles had mentioned having a reason to live, but Bumblebee had never imagined something like this. The teen had to be incredibly strong to take on the weight of protecting two kids by himself in a world that was literally out to eat them. Miles was a Guardian in his own right, and he had trusted Bumblebee with the secret of his two young Charges. And the teen was obviously just as thrilled to see his kids as they were to see him, because he was picking them both up, his bad foot completely ignored, and hugging them close, checking them over for any wounds even though he'd left them in an obviously safe place.

It reminded Bumblebee of family. It reminded him that he was a part of one, and could be a part of this one if he wanted to be. And he did. There were no Cybertronian younglings, and there would be no more younglings or sparklings. The Cybertronians were a dying race; they were dying right alongside their human counterparts. But there was some life left yet in both of them, and Bumblebee felt like clinging to it for the first time in a long time.

"Where are we going?"

Miles had been content to just let Bumblebee drive for the past few hours. He had finally allowed the Scout to make him a splint once he had Millie and Nick safe in his arms, and the two had fallen fast asleep once they were safely inside the Autobot. Miles had them close to his side as they slept, and at first Bumblebee had told him the story of his race. But that story had long since run out, and while Bumblebee had ended his when Sam's life had stopped, they both knew it was just a new chapter, as cliché as it was to think it.

"Somewhere safe," Bumblebee assured him.

Now that the Scout had actually bothered to fully scan Miles, he was displeased in what he saw. Given that he now knew about Millie and Nick he couldn't say he was shocked; the teen must have been giving most of the food to the two kids, and he was very obviously the only one of the group who could protect and scavenge. Miles had to have been surviving on thirty minute power naps, and he was underweight, but Bumblebee could fix that.

Slowly, he started to leak a gas through his air vents. The same gas he'd used so long ago to put Sam asleep. But this time, unlike his old Charge, the trio inside of him would wake up. Not only would they wake up inside of him, but they would wake up at home.

They would wake up at the Autobot base, the only safe place for a human left in the world.