Author's Note – There's a Japanese saying on courage that I love and that seems to me appropriate here: "Fall seven times, stand up eight."
Cybertronian time measurements: vorn = 83 Earth years, stellar cycle = 1 Earth year, deca-cycle = about 3 Earth weeks, solar cycle = 1 Earth day, joor = about two Earth hours, breem = 8.3 Earth minutes, astro-second = .498 Earth second.
Disclaimer – "Transformers" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Hasbro, Takara, and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.
"Paid in Full"
by DragonDancer5150
Chapter 2 – Stand Up Eight
Decepticon Base, bottom of the Pacific Ocean
Late morning
How did he get himself into these messes?
O-on second thought . . . don't answer that.
Bumblebee finally worked himself up to hands and knees, unsure how long he had let himself just lie there, dealing, after he'd been carelessly deposited in this cell. His servos still ached and protested the slightest movement. They probably would at least until his diagnostics finished recalibrating – never mind the work of his self-repair systems – but he couldn't wait that long, knowing his captors could come back at any time. He needed to be prepared to act.
Ignoring a growing dread that festered in the back of his mind, he looked around the room, but its only real features were the door through which he'd been brought and a sizable mirror dominating the wall next to it. Bumblebee levered himself to his feet and limped to the mirror, running a hand over its surface.
Why would there be a mirror in here? he wondered. So a prisoner can admire his captor's handiwork? He grimaced at that, even as he took in his battered appearance. His superstructure was scratched here and there, though thankfully not deep enough to score through his paint, and he was covered in dust and mud. He brushed dirt clods from a few crevices, then reached up to touch one of the small horns on either side of his helm when he noticed the thick tip had gotten bent.
He was a bit proud of himself, actually. He'd really only managed to get himself captured, too, in his attempt to get Wheeljack back with no other help available than his wits and his laser pistol – and a handful of human soldiers who'd been more likely to get themselves hurt than they were to damage the enemy. But at least he'd made the slaggers fight for it! His VW Beetle alt-mode was small and not quite as fast as many of the others, but he was one of the most maneuverable. That was, until Skywarp had teleported in front of him and hit him with that variable-caliber machine gun of his, blowing out a front tire and pockmarking the rim of his wheel well and the side of his hood. Bumblebee cast a rueful glance down at his left foot, still feeling the pain of that injury even in his root-mode. He pulled a deep cycle of air, inner cooling fans whirring softly and making a sound like a sigh, as he turned his attention back to the mirror.
No . . . not a mirror, he decided. That really isn't Megatron's style. He pondered it a moment longer before a possibility finally hit him. One of those one-way windows, maybe? I remember Ironhide telling me about those once. Yeah, that's gotta be it! Which means . . . it's not solid wall behind this thing but another room.
Which in turn meant another way out. It was always possible that he'd break through only to find himself surrounded again by Decepticons, but he had to try! Making a fist, he punched with everything he had, driving his arm at the glass like a pile driver. The material warped and rippled slightly with a wobbling sound that would have been rather comical had his situation not been so dire. Decidedly unamused, he grimaced and brushed his hand over the spot – scrap it, not even a scratch. He'd have to hit it with more force. Since his sole weapon had been taken, he had only one option for that – his alternate mode. He backed into a far corner and transformed, though he didn't bolt all of his components into place, leaving his hands and forearms unlocked. They folded quite handily up under his chassis, and he knew he'd need them.
Ignoring his flat tire – and the hurt of driving on it – he gunned his engine, brake pads engaged until enough pressure had been built, then he sped at the opposite wall, shifting his weight to bounce a bit on his remaining tires before slapping his hands down on the floor with a bounce, further facilitating a leap at the window. His front fender rammed into it…
…only to get repelled with an insulting bwoing! as he was thrown back by the pliant material. He landed on his tires and tried to brake to control his skid, but he wound up spinning out until the corner of his rear fender smacked the opposite wall.
"OW! Owowoww…" he complained to himself as he shifted – painfully – back to root-mode and rubbed at his shoulder where he'd hit the wall. "Okay, yeah, that went over well," he muttered.
He stiffened in alarm as low, gravelly chuckling filled the room from unseen speakers. "As amusing as that pitiful display was, my little yellow bug, I'd refrain from further attempts if I were you. There really is no call in damaging yourself needlessly. Although, if you are so eager for pain, I can always send someone in to dole it out for you."
Bumblebee gulped as he shot to his feet, staring at the ceiling, then the window, as if by force of will he could look beyond to the source of the hated voice.
Megatron. Primus, he was in so much trouble.
Well . . . well, whatever! He wasn't going to go down without a fight! Glaring at the window and ignoring how battered and non-threatening he looked even to himself in the reflective surface, he shook his fist. "Just come on in here, Megatron. I'm not afraid of you!" Which . . . wasn't true, as a matter of fact – not by a long shot – but he wasn't about to let that show.
There was no further answer, much to Bumblebee's admitted relief. Not that he let that show, either. He did hope they couldn't see him trembling softly, waves of micro-surges jolting through his motor relays, as he took stock of his situation anew. He looked around, but there were no vents he could try to climb into, he'd just verified he couldn't break through the mirror-window, and . . . he tried the door for the smelt of it. Yep, locked. No surprise there. With no more options left that he could think of, Bumblebee began to relent to the growing fear he'd been fighting to keep at bay.
What do they want? It isn't like the Decepticons to not be in here gloating over a captured Autobot. Then, a thought occurred to him, and a lead slag weight hit his manifold like a shot from Megatron's fusion cannon. Because they're busy with Wheeljack? Is that it? It had been long before his time, but the little scout had heard about his creator's long imprisonment and torture eons ago when the Decepticons had tried to force him to change sides, to serve them. And now that they'd managed to get their filthy hands on the engineer again…!
Maybe not, he quickly assured himself. Wheeljack had been knocked completely into stasis, the last Bumblebee had seen of him. He could only pray they were letting the engineer reboot on his own. After all, they'd wanted him for something specific, didn't they? Hadn't he heard Megatron say something along those lines, about not hurting him?
Please, Primus, just let Wheeljack be all right!
Still, that left him in his own predicament. The fact that no one had come in yet to harass him was a relief but also troublesome in its own way. It meant they were up to something and they just weren't ready for him yet. Ready for me to what, though? As much as he dreaded it, he was afraid he'd find out soon enough.
So . . . now what? Just sit and wait for them to come for me? Is that all I can do? Bumblebee didn't want to believe it, but what else was there? He crossed his arms and fought down the trembling that vibrated his servos. Scrap it! If only I'd talked Wheeljack out of going to that military base! Or at least managed to take along some additional backup. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker could have come with us. Then, maybe, we wouldn't be in this mess!
He sighed again, pulling a deep cycle of air to cool his overheating substructure, as he sank to the ground, his back against a wall and his head in his hands. This worrying was getting him nowhere, but what else was there to do?
No, he growled to himself, don't let them get the better of you like that! His usual determination wrestled down the mounting dread and terror. There's always something more you can do! It was a lesson Optimus Prime himself had taught him, and one he had seen put to the test time and again among his fellow Autobots. He had even done it himself.
Eventually, someone was going to come through that door, which meant the door would be opened. Therein lay his key to action. Bumblebee was only too aware of his stature among his fellows as the smallest and weakest of the Autobots, but he was also among the quickest and most agile, and because he was so small, he could be all the harder to catch, especially if one wasn't expecting it. That right there was his best advantage now.
He crept across the room to the wall directly under the window, transformed to alt-mode again, and set himself to wait. The door would have to be opened wide enough to let in a Decepticon and, unless it was Rumble, Frenzy, Ravage, or Reflector – and Bumblebee had serious doubts that it'd be any of them – that Decepticon would be at least twice Bumblebee's size, which meant he would have to open the door pretty wide, with more than enough room for Bumblebee to slip out behind his heels. It wasn't the best plan – that still left anyone outside this room for him to have to deal with – but it was better than nothing, and it gave the smallest Autobot a sense of hope.
Hope that stretched thin with the passage of time.
Bumblebee thought that at least a joor must have passed, with him "dozing off" into a static rest mode to conserve energy and help quiet his processor, before he finally heard the sound he'd been waiting for. A short series of locks clicking over in the wall above had him bringing the rest of his systems back online in an astro-second. Then, the door opened at last. Bumblebee kept still as Thundercracker entered the room, the Decepticon actually stepping well past his position before even pausing to look for him.
Bumblebee gunned his engine.
