Note: I do not own Transformers, as you all know. They are Hasbro's and Paramount Pictures'.

In this fanfiction, Bumblebee is a youngling, not a sparkling. The parents in this fic are obviously made up; I don't think anyone knows who Bee's parents are. o.O; The timeline guides have been deleted to avoid future confusion, which had already occured earlier. I don't want to risk that again, but understand that this is before Mission City and before the time of the movie, way before. The war is still heated and going however, and this fiction will focus on Bee.

Bumblebee's creators do not want him to be a soldier after his brother dies in an unexpected attack on his squad. Decepticon drones attack Bee's unit/home, and the youngling loses his parents in a matter of breems. Alone, he's found by Optimus Prime and Jazz, and taken to their Autobot base. [Possible OCs. Will the bot choose to become an Autobot warrior? Or remember his parents words and remain a normal Cybertronian civilian? Read and respond, and find out! x3
Chapter One – Call to a Youngling

Bumblebee's wide blue optics were fixed on the holoscreen as if it were endowing him with some sort of answer to life, some sort of answer to the biggest question the universe could throw at him. But, no – The holoscreen glowed of horrifying footage of the heated Autobot-Decepticon war, overwhelming to a youngling like him.

But, for some reason, he wasn't afraid.

"…This unexpected attack has certainly elevated the heat of this war, without a doubt…"

The youngling kept staring, his faceplate highlighted in fear. He took every word into his processor, storing it in his files, memorizing.

"…Under no circumstances, will we, the Autobots, let this event cut us down. It will not weaken our dedication, nor will it cripple our pride."

Bumblebee whirred once hands suddenly took his tiny frame, a femme cradling him up into her arms until he lie against her pale yellow breastplate.

"Bumblebee, baby, you're not supposed to be watching this..."

The young mech looked up, meeting the warm blue optics of his mother. She shook her head, fingering over his faceplate gently with her fingertips. She smiled.

"You know better," she sighed.

Bumblebee blinked as he shifted his optics back to the screen, staring.

"We ask for the support from the families of our soldiers, please. Each spark stay with us, stay optimistic, confident – We will not let this happen again. Not to this degree…"

The femme's optics rounded and she lifted her head to the holoscreen, listening intently with straining audio receptors. She subconsciously kneeled by the screen, keeping the mechling supported against her spark chamber.

"Primus…" she breathed.

Footsteps approached toward the two, pausing after a short moment. A hand sat against the femme's shoulder and Bumblebee turned his little head, optics blinking innocently at his father above him.

"Lexine, what's wrong?" his father's smooth voice said to the femme. The mech looked down to his son, electric blue optics upturning as they smiled. Thick fingers soon met the youngling's cheekplates, dancing against their gentle contours and curves. "Bumblebee, did you something, son?" He laughed, making the bot giggle.

Lexine shook her head, managing a nervous swallow. "N-No, babe…Look."

The mech turned his blue optics to the screen. Bumblebee watched as each one scanned the images the screen displayed, his father's brow furrowing with worry. The youngling followed their gaze, shifting his optics to the holoscreen.

Again, he soaked it all in.

"D-Daddy, what's going on?" the mechling murmured, watching as the frightful footage repeated itself. He reached out a little yellow finger to a Decepticon on the screen, whimpering. "Who is that, Daddy? A-Autobot?"

His father only stared, as if he didn't hear his son's inquires.

Lexine moved her arms tighter against Bumblebee's body, pressing him against her spark. "Sh-Shh, baby," she silenced him. One of her hands fell over the mechling's optics and he whirred, turning his head into his mother's breastplate. "D-Don't look…"

Bumblebee obeyed, keeping his optics away from the holoscreen, his antennae perking at the sounds from the footage. He shivered at sudden screams and cries of pain, at officers barking orders and soldiers releasing their battle cry into the fight, and the Decepticon's angry roars in return.

They echoed in his head…

"Go, go, go!!"

"Move it!"

Gunfire. Plasma fire.

Screams.

"Cover fire!"

A roar into the air…

And everything went silent.

"As you can see, the Autobot squad was besieged, unexpectedly. Had they been ready…"

Bumblebee shivered and clutched his mother's arms. Lexine held him more secure.

"B-Bee, quiet, quiet," she cooed, her voice quivering as she was on the verge of tears.

"Honey, what is it?" his father cooed.

She shook her head. "N-Not around Bumblebee, Jaryn. I c-can't…H-He shouldn't…"

"Shh, Lex, you don't have to…I-I understand, baby."

"…Y-You know?"

Silence – Heavy, deafening.

Bumblebee squirmed uneasily. What was wrong?

Sensing the sorrow in his creators' voices, Bumblebee whirred, shaking his head quickly to peek his optics through his mother's hand, looking up at them wide-eyed. Lexine had her head tucked in Jaryn's neck, pale blue tears dotting her delicate-yellow cheekplates. His whirr caught their attention. They looked down.

"Sweetie…" whispered the femme, brushing her fingers against his little jawline.

Bumblebee's own optics welled at the sight of his crying mother. He looked to the holoscreen, ignoring what he had just been told, blinking at it as the war-filled footage repeated itself again, the sounds faint, but still there in his receptors.

He pointed at the screen, paying no mind to the little pull back his father gave to his arm. The mechling twittered. "Th-That's what I'll be when I grow up," his little voice said. He added a moment later, "I wanna be like th-them," when a heroic Autobot squad appeared onscreen.

Jaryn shook his head. "N-No, son," he said, gently, yet edged in authority. "N-No…"

"I-It's too dangerous…" breathed Lexine.

Nothing more…

Bumblebee slowly withdrew his arm, stealing a nervous glance at his forlorn creators, his tiny spark weighted as he couldn't figure out the reason for their sorrow.

Bumblebee turned his head away in time as his mother slowly returned her hand over his tiny faceplate, her gentle fingers fiddling with his yellow antennae. He purred, the sounds from the holoscreen slowly dying, fading to murmurs, to a collage of conversations jumbling in his processor.

"Do not be overwhelmed by this misfortune, do not be frightened…"

Bumblebee peeked out an optic again, watching the screen.

"The enemy will be defeated, with the spirit of Primus, do not lose hope…"

Footage of Autobots played yet again, soldiers running, Decepticons roaring…

He didn't shiver at the enemy, only feeling an unusual flutter in his spark.

A soldier's calling.