Rebuilding the Fallen

"Man, we sure do miss you," Ironhide mumbled. Standing with the others in quiet salute to their fallen comrade, he and rest of the Autobots watched as Optimus gently laid the two halves of Jazz gently in his crypt. The hardened warrior still couldn't quite believe that he'd never have to listen to Jazz's jabs about 'his lack of style' anymore. He'd give anything to have the silver mech leave his aft in the dust again!

Fumbling with the corpse, the big mech tried to arrange it so that Jazz looked 'whole' again. He thanked Primus for his mask, for he didn't want the others to see just how tore up he was about his old friend's demise. He had loved Jazz as a brother, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had to go into battle without the energetic little mech by his side. Now he faced this new life alone, a fact even more painful than the realization that their species was now facing extinction.

Many humans were also gathered around, their tears and quite sobs breaking the stony silence. Few had known him, but all had seen his bravery in protecting their world from destruction. To them, he was now something of a brother.

"You were a good soldier and true friend – to the very end. We will always remember you, Jazz," Optimus said the simple eulogy in a somber tone. His hidden lips trembled slightly as he tried desperately to keep from breaking down in front of them all.

Ironhide helped him to slowly close the heavy metal plated door. His core felt as heavy as the entire planet of Cybertron. Then they all stood and looked at the monument that they had built to honor the hero laying within.

Slowly, the group dispersed, each one needing some time alone to remember the cheerful mech that they'd never see again.

In Sam's back pocket, there was one mech who was not sad in the least. In fact, her thoughts concerning the empty chassis were one of glee. For soon, very soon, she'd have a decent chassis for her spark to call home again. Chuckling to herself, she thought it was quite ironic that Jazz's death would cause the one thing that he had died for – the saving of his own species from extinction! So as the rest of the mechs remembered his loss with a sense of deep sadness and prayed that he would rest in peace, Frenzy actually thanked the Autobot for dying.

As Sam sat and held the sobbing Mikaela; Frenzy slid out of his pocket and disappeared in the long grass. Her blue optics dancing in glee as she considered the work ahead of her – and the future of her life beyond that.

Making her way unseen to the monument, she scuttled around it looking for an entrance. She soon located a hole within one of the cement seams; where the cement had been poured too fast and had cracked. Pushing some of the underlying gravel away, Frenzy scuttled through the crevice and into the dark interior.

Switching her optics to infrared, she easily made out the still sun-warmed chassis lying on the cement deathbed. Jumping up on it, the tiny femme darted into his damaged regions, taking note of the extent of damage both inside and out, and making a list of materials and tools she would need to repair it. Finished with her exam, she jumped on top of the chassis and scurried towards its face.

Studying what once was Jazz's face, she imagined it as hers. She did have to admit, that though this chassis was the least desirable one, because he was so small and light, Jazz did have the best looking façade of all of the emptied chassis'. So, perhaps, it wouldn't be too terribly bad having this chassis. She'd at least be the fastest and most agile of the ground mechs. If she was smart, then she could use those traits to her advantage.

As night fell, Frenzy darted out of the monument. First, she'd need a slightly bigger chassis in order to do the repairs; and second, she'd need to start collecting the parts and the tools that she would need.

Scuttling off into the night, she made her way to the first pawnshop she could find. Sliding in through a mouse hole, she wandered up and down the aisles, looking for the perfect temporary chassis to transfer her spark into. Ending up in the music equipment section, Frenzy found herself studying a Marshal Head. The input system was sturdily built, and when her spark entered it, she figured it would make her about four feet tall, but heavier built than her old chassis. Not as shiny though, a shame.

Satisfied, she flipped the 'on' switch to the unit. Sitting on top of it, she could feel the electric field generated by the power flow. Reaching over the front of it, she stuck one of her tiny metal appendages into its input plug. With a slight flash, her spark left the cell phone and entered the unit. The dance of electricity flowed briefly over the surface of the unit, then it suddenly transformed. Jumping off the stack of amplifiers, the new transformer didn't even notice the cell phone falling in between the shelves like a forgotten skin.

Frenzy stretched her neck from side-to-side, enjoying the feel of this new chassis. Chattering happily to herself in Cybertronian, she grabbed some shopping bags from behind the counter, and started to collect the tools and parts that she needed. Walking back and forth, picking up items. She'd study them briefly and either toss them into her bag, or discard them by casually tossing them behind her. Continuing her endless stream of banter in her strange language, she went to the back storage room and grabbed several computer hard drives and CPUs right out of the upright modules.

Deciding it was time to leave; she went into the store's bathroom and pried the window open. Leaping out into the night, the little mech carried her heavy bags the five miles back to the monument. Quickly, she dug out more of the gravel from around her crevice, making it just large enough for her to squeeze through. After getting everything shoved inside – including herself – she turned and piled the gravel back up behind her, carefully hiding her entrance from the outside world.

Chattering merrily, the little femme began to do her repairs. She joked with the off lined mech, as if he was still alive, even as she prepared his empty chassis for herself. Really, he was great company for this lonely job, and the quite the gentleman about it too. All he did was listen; just like all mechs should do.

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"What the hell were you thinking!?" Sam's father yelled at him. He was truly disgusted with the boy. Stealing?! Stealing!? If there weren't cops all around him, he'd kick Sam's ass all over the room! God, he was so ashamed. Hadn't he taught the boy better?

… Apparently not.

Sitting in front of the police detective's desk, the youth merely shrugged. "I'm telling you – I didn't do it!!" he said for the twentieth time. He truly didn't do it! But he couldn't tell them where he had been that night! If his dad found out that he'd snuck out to be with Mikaela, alone – he'd get a far worse punishment than for just stealing. Well, maybe, it mattered how excited mom and dad were about having grandchildren. Not that Mikaela was pregnant … at least he didn't hope so. Damn, when was her last menstrual cycle?

On second thought, he'd rather stay away from that subject matter.

"Then why in the hell did they find YOUR cell phone inside that pawn shop!" his dad responded. He was totally outraged that HIS son could be this stupid!! And he dreaded what his wife would think when they got home.

Detective Burbank wondered if he was going to have to restrain the father, but it did feel good to see that some of these delinquents had parents that actually gave a damn. He kind've wished that he had a hidden camera at this kid's home, for the eventual ass-whooping that this enraged father was going to give the thief – would be very satisfying for the cops to watch.

"I don't know! Don't you believe me – I didn't do it!" Sam yelled back. He knew he didn't do it! But how in the hell could he convince them without revealing what he'd actually been doing?! He gulped in fear that his father would find the condom wrapper in his pocket. Now that would be, totally – the worst! 'Not as worse as Mikaela being pregnant', whispered Sam's brain. He merely hissed for it to shut up and let him think. It merely replayed, 'Well, I was thinking … about Mikaela being pregnant.' Sam merely told his head to shut up and his head reply, 'Well, that's what got you into the mess in the first place. You weren't thinking.'

And the conversation with himself kind of went in a downward spiral like that until his father's voice broke into his thoughts, once more.

"Well, I'm bailing you out, but you're grounded until the court date! And you're going to repaint the ENTIRE house to pay the attorney's fees!" the enraged father yelled back. And he was going to make the little thief power spray the whole damned house as well. All the while, he'd make sure to put his favorite lawn chair in the yard, grab a beer and 'supervise' the entire job.

"But I didn't –" Sam stuttered, his eyes on the floor in shame over what he'd really been doing that night.

"Just shut up!" Sam's dad grabbed his arm and began to drag him out of the police station. He was going to stop by the hardware store on the way home. And by God, Sam was going to start working on the house that very day!

Several policemen chuckled after the front door shut, all of them thinking the very same thing.

"I'd hate to be that kid!" one joked. His eyes gleamed as he pictured the enraged father sitting on a lawn chair with a beer, watching the little thief slave away on the house's siding.

"Wish more parents of delinquents were like him!" another added. He envisioned quite a few other delinquents that he'd love to drop off at that guy's house.

"You and me both!" Detective Burbank agreed. He chuckled at the mere thought of that kid not able to sit down for days.

"By the way, did you find anything when you searched his house?" His Sergeant asked, as he poked his head out of his office. He had kept the door open, so that he could enjoy the sounds of an enraged parent going after a delinquent; made his heart feel warm and fuzzy to see a parent like that.

"Nope, but the kid's probably got a friend that he takes the hot shit too." Burbank shrugged, since this was pretty common. He'd check the other pawnshops over the next few days, see if he spotted anything.

"True. Kid was pretty stupid dropping his cell phone like that," the Sergeant said as he chuckled. He liked it when young criminals were that stupid. Made their work easier and perhaps the delinquents would get so scared they wouldn't try it again.

"Yep, won't make a good criminal that way!" Many cops laughed in agreement with that statement.

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"Bumblebee, where's Sam? Haven't seen him around here in days," Optimus asked. He was concerned about the human, since Sam had been hanging out with them almost every afternoon since they made their 'home' here in this empty warehouse that the government had given them.

The little yellow mech shrugged, "he got into some trouble. The cops are saying he stole some stuff from a pawn shop last Tuesday night." Granted, Bee knew he hadn't done it. But somehow the cops thought he had, and since Bee couldn't very well vouch for him due to the fact he didn't 'technically' exist, he was trying to keep his aft out of it.

"Wasn't he with you and Mikaela that night?" Ratchet queried. He lifted his optic ridge in interest at Bee's obvious omission. The youngling was acting strange … the little fragger better not have been helping Sam with his juvenile activities, or he'd be getting an exhaust flush early.

"Um, yep." Bumblebee rubbed his armor nervously, not wanting to meet anyone's optics. Not that it mattered; Ratchet was already giving him the glare. What? She hadn't did anything wrong – legally; morally, well, that mattered on one's personal opinion.

"Well, then he's got an alibi," Prime reasoned. Shrugging, he nodded towards the yellow mech, figuring that Bumblebee should just go and straighten everything out.

"Uh, sort of. But he kind've snuck out of the house that night." Bumblebee shifted nervously from foot to foot. He felt sort of embarrassed by it all, since everything was supposed to be a secret between him and Sam.

"You've got to be kidding!" Ironhide stated. His optics widened in outrage, since the mech had disobeyed a direct order about following Sam's parent's rules concerning 'sneaking out.'

"I specifically told you not to do that," Optimus said, his blue optics getting a hard gleam to them as he looked down at the fidgeting mech. He knew Bumblebee was young, but damn! The mech had always followed his orders. What the hell had gotten into the yellow mech? He had been acting strange ever since the Allspark had been destroyed.

"Well, I know, but he and Mikaela wanted to – well uh… You know…" Bumblebee stammered. If he could blush, he would've – but it really hadn't seemed like a bad idea at the time…Really it hadn't. But now, well, that stain would probably never come out, and she sure wasn't going to be letting any others join it.

"Wanted to what?" Ironhide demanded to know. His optics narrowed, he knew the small mech was trying to hide something – and nothing ticked off Ironhide more than an evasive mech!

Bumblebee kept his optics on the ground as he nervously fidgeted under the glare of the three bigger mechs.

Ratchet studied him, realizing exactly what the two humans must've wanted 'to do'. Clearing his throat he looked over at the fairly dense Ironhide. "I believe the humans wanted to mate." He raised his optic ridges in humor at the entire situation. Well, it was bound to happen to someone sooner or later … at least it wasn't him.

"Sloggers! Mate? You've got to be kidding! And you let them in – " Ironhide's optics got very big with outrage. This was beyond being 'friends' with the darned human, this was being used by him. And here Bumblebee was supposed to be HIS guardian. The weapons master wanted to strangle the mech right then and there for his stupidity! But he'd resist … youngling were supposed to be dumb, but this kind of borderline retarded. Maybe he should have Ratchet look into that later.

Bumblebee merely nodded, looking down at his feet in shame. It hadn't seemed like a bad idea – at the time…. And he'd do anything that Sam asked. Anything.

Optimus sighed as he rolled his optics. "You know better than that Bumblebee. So I guess you get to help Ratchet build his new workshop as punishment." Though he loved the youngling like he was his own, Prime just couldn't believe that the mech had been so gullible. It was kind of funny though, but it wasn't a very commander-like thing to do and laugh at him. He'd do it once he got to the privacy, and thick walls, of his office.

With that Ironhide and Optimus left him, shaking their heads at the stupidity of younglings.

Ratchet studied Bumblebee. "I'm guessing that Sam would rather plead guilty than tell his dad what he was really doing, hmmm?" He wasn't pissed at Bumblebee like the others. In fact, he found the entire situation a rather fascinating study of young human – young mech interaction.

Bumblebee nodded, still keeping his optics locked on his feet. He was glad that he was stuck working for Ratchet. Ya, he'd work his aft off – but at least Ratchet didn't seemed ticked off or disappointed like the other two were. He did feel bad that he wouldn't see his buddy, Sam, for a while. But eventually they'd get to go cruising again … and then the open road would allow him to forget. To forget everything: the Allspark, the war, and his secret. That last one was always the hardest to forget.

"Well, come on, there's a lot of work to be done!" Ratchet said. Grabbing the yellow mech by a door panel, he dragged his reluctant 'helper' into the warehouse.

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