A/N: This was a request made by shamanking11 over on DA. Request was 'prowlxbee angst fic dealing with death'. Nothing more than that so I took the idea and ran with it. But now. Thanks to the muse feedings of one my dear friends, aerinsol-again on DA-, this is going to turn into it's own AU series. I have other requests I have to finish firsts so don't be surprised if this doesn't get updated for awhile. For now, this is all there will be. I will get back to it don't worry. 8D

Enjoy! Read and review. Constructive Crit is welcome! Flames will be laughed with WavvyTheFur and DreamStoryWeaver.

Warning: TONS of character death. Read at own risk.

In The End

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In the end, all they had was each other and all they could do was run.

Reflecting back on the last few months, maybe it was better that Sari and her father had died in the first attacks. Megatron had taken Starscream completely offline, stealing the Allspark fragment from his forehead and sent the clones, knowing about their little bomb secret. Jazz and Prowl had been unable to protect the city, and Jazz, selfless mech that he was, used whatever power he had to transport Prowl and Optimus out of the blast range. Jazz and every human in Detriot was gone in a flash of light.

It had been a terrible blow to Sari, to lose her father as she had, but she was determined to avenge him. After Detroit, Megatron set his sights on the rest of the planet, looking to conquer it and use it for its energy resources. The first planned attack was Washington. They'd tried to stop him, but he had the majority of the Allspark and had regained control of Omega Supreme.

Sari was lost in the crossfire, hit by one of the missiles from the great weapon. Prowl didn't think he'd ever seen Bumblebee so upset, but he tried to comfort him by saying she was reunited with her father. It worked to an extent, but the yellow mech was never quite the same.

As the Decepticons continued their attacks, Cybertron tried to lend assistance sending several mechs from the Elite Guard to help. He'd lost count of the number of good bots that had gone offline, though he did remember some names. Brawn, Ironhide, Rodimus, a scientist named Skyfire, even Jetfire and Jetstorm who High Command thought would have an advantage, being flying Autobots. Countless other mechs with no names that Prowl had never met but knew went offline trying to stop this madness.

Every city the Decepticons hit, mechs were lost, good mechs with good lives. Femmes were captured, never killed, and Prowl shuddered to think of their fates now. Eventually, their own team began to fall. Bulkhead went out defending them all. Ratchet was executed trying to sneak into a Decepticon base to free Arcee. Optimus took a fatal hit from Megatron's fusion cannon, and Prowl and Bumblebee just managed to drag him away from the fight before his spark flared out. With only the two of them left, they did the only sensible thing they could think of: they ran, far from the current Decepticon base.

Survival was the only thing on their processors from that point on.

They raided former oil rigs for whatever was left, hid in long abandoned buildings often with one or two human survivors who would beg for the their help. Prowl hated to tell them they were better off on their own, that they were likely the only two Autobots left on the planet, and that their own team had fallen to Decepticons. He hated to tell them that because although it was true, it killed whatever hope they had and many suicides took place in the middle of the night.

Bumblebee was beginning to lose his processor. He was young, and he'd never had to deal with so much death in such a short amount of time. He was often silent and would stare off into the distance, at the blood-red skies that had become the norm. Prowl did what he could to keep him sane, but the most he could do was offer comfort and treat whatever wounds they had. He'd had the foresight to learn what he could from Ratchet before the medic was killed, and it saved their skidplates plenty of times.

Their current hide-out was an old musuem in the state once known as New York. The Decepticons were on the other side of the country, getting ready to start their attacks on continents across the Pacific Ocean. They didn't stand a chance. All the humans nuclear weapons couldn't hold a candle to the amount of firepower the Decepticons were carrying.

Prowl sighed, grimancing as his ventilations struggled to recycle air properly. Leaning against him, Bumblebee was staring blankly at the floor, the only sound he made that of his own tired and worn systems. The cyberninja took in their conditions and calculated their chances of getting any farther. What he knew of medicine certainly helped, but it didn't fix everything. More intricate circuit relays that had been damaged couldn't be helped, and it was leading to dead limbs.

One of Bumblebee's legs was turning a dull yellow, showing that limb was going useless. Prowl himself was losing feeling in his right leg, and he could swear his digits were getting numb. Their next destination had been Pennslyvania, but as it was, they didn't have a snowball's chance in hell, as the expression went, of even getting to the state line. They were slagged, and he knew it.

"Prowl," Bumblebee's hoarse voice broke the silence. Said mech looked down at the only companion he had left, feeling a spark of worry to see pale optics looking back at him. Bumblebee was in bad shape, they both were, but chances were the scout would go before him He didn't think he could handle another death.

"Yes, Bumblebee?"

"There's something I wanna tell you, in case we don't get any help soon," A pang of guilt shot through Prowl's systems. He'd been keeping their hopes and spirits alive with the promises they'd get off this dying planet, but they both knew Cybretron had stopped sending help, stopped sending ships when the Decepticons got a hold of them. They were stranded with no chances of help from anyone.

"What is it?" Prowl asked, automatically wrapping one arm around his shoulders. The scout scooted closer to him, slowly wrapping his arm around Prowl's middle.

"I...I love you." He murmured, as though he were afraid to admit it but figured he had nothing to lose. Bumblebee fell into an uneasy recharge with his faceplate buried in Prowl's chassis before the older mech had a chance to reply. Prowl was in shock, not from Bumblebee's confession, but from his realization of what exactly was keeping him sane. Where he would he be without the yellow scout? He might not have admitted it but keeping the younger alive, caring for him as he had all these months, and making sure they had somewhere safe to stay every night had given him a reason to keep living. He, apparently, had also given the small yellow mech a reason to keep fighting and keep going.

Now, they were both in danger of deactivating.

'Like hell I'm going to let that happen.' Prowl checked the frequencies to see which ones were still active, looking for one in particular. He almost sighed in relief to find the damned mech still alive and nearby. He opened a transmission frequency, hoping to be answered.

He was rewarded with a familiar, low cracking voice, :Well, well. Prowl. Been awhile, kid:

"Forget pleasantries, Lockdown. Remember that offer you made me? I've reconsidered." He could almost see the triumphant grin on the bounty hunter's faceplate.

:Bout time. Been needin' some extra help, and I know you'll make a greaty bounty hunter:

"There's a condition." There was a whole two kliks of silence before Lockdown spoke again, his tone suspicious.

:What kind of condition?:

"I need a medic, a damn good one. Know anyone?"

:Yeah, I believe I've got just the one. But that's gonna cost ya: Prowl had expected that, but he still couldn't help the sigh. He didn't have any credits, nothing of real value to trade, nothing except...

"I've still got the mods I took from you last time. It's all I've got." More silence as the bounty hunter considered his offer.

:Throw in ol' Master Yoketron's helmet, and it's a deal: Prowl almost said no, but he looked to his right at the sleeping, slowly dying bot beside him. He needed help, they both did. His master could forgive him for this.

"Deal."

Hours later, they were on Lockdown's ship, heading away from Earth. He'd been disgruntled to learn that Prowl had used the old offer as an excuse for a rescue, but when he kept to his deal and gave him the mods and helmet, he hadn't argued and showed him where he could put Bumblebee until they reached a medic. Prowl had watched the Earth shrink into the distance the further they got from it, and for the first time in months, he felt himself relax.

In the end, life together as neutrals roaming space was a lot better than waiting to die on a forsaken world.