Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any of the characters, Hasbro & Paramount Pictures does.
This is simply going to be a story of fluffy thoughts that pop into my head, so it probably won't be as structured as my other stories. I would also like for everyone who reads this to go check out the pictures Middernacht has drawn for me on Deviantart. They are amazing!! And I will be referencing Litahatchee's wonderful idea of carrying from her story Nightfire, which I truly hope I do justice in this story. Thank you.
Sparkling - Chapter IV - Intruder
The sleek silver hallways of the titanic Autobot battleship, Artemis I, shone faintly beneath the glowing lights of the ceilings and the faint humming of various machines and equipment could be heard through the doorways. A deep silence hung in the chilly air of the vessel's hallways, the late shift quietly patrolling the endless corridors with cautious steps so as not to disturb their recharging comrades. One mech in particular was being a little more quiet than usual as he finished up his ornly reports.
"Slaggin' Prowl," grumbled Ironhide, his tired optics skimming over the data-chip that lay on his work desk. "Always wantin' everything done by the book. Frag him."
Despite the boiling frustration that laced his voice, Ironhide made sure that he did not speak too loud for fear of awakening his sparkling. His optics turned to gaze down at the pale yellow and white crib that lie to his left side, the small form slumbering within its protective rails bundled in a mass of soft blankets. The ship had been oddly cold over the past few orns and Ironhide did not wish for Bumblebee's internal firewalls to weaken and allow a virus to spread into his systems.
"Why in the Pit is it so cold?" wondered Ironhide, his optics skimming over the ventilation grates on the ceiling. He slowly got up and inspected the opening, surprised when he felt frigid air blowing against his fingertips. "What the…"
His room was never supposed to be this cold. Not with the sparkling in it.
Ironhide shook his head in frustration and bemusement, not at all pleased with these turn of events. He was also partially angry at himself for not noticing the sudden drop in temperature before now. It was far too chilly in this room for the slumbering Bumblebee to be left alone for any short period of time. So Ironhide knew that he would have to take Bumblebee with him to Red Alert's office on the security deck.
"Come here, little one," grunted Ironhide, gently scooping Bumblebee's tiny frame into his hands, blankets and all, and cradling him against his broad shoulder. The tiny mech squeaked groggily, his sleepy optics partially opening to gaze up at his guardian whilst his small fingers instinctively reached out to feel familiar black metal. "Shh, little one, go back to sleep, everything's alright," the titanic weapons specialist cooed.
Bumblebee buzzed quietly, burrowing his little head into the crook of Ironhide's thick neck as the older mech continued to run his fingers along the sparkling's back. The weapons specialist released a sigh of relief and tenderly wrapped the blankets around the sparkling as he exited the room.
"Whoever touched the heating system is going to be visiting the Hatchet very soon," rumbled the black mech as he strode down the deserted corridor. "Do they want Bumblebee to contract a virus?!"
The aforementioned sparkling simply curled even further into his guardian, small clicks and gentle chirps escaping his vocal processor as Ironhide wrapped one enormous hand over his shivering frame. Ironhide was even to this moment still amazed by just how tiny Bumblebee was compared to himself and his fellow Autobots. Even before the war had broken out, Ironhide could not recall ever having seen a sparkling quite as small nor as precious as his little Bumblebee.
Truthfully, Ironhide would have preferred to have simply put Bumblebee into his warm carrying hold, but the sparkling had been curled up inside of it for nearly the past two orns. The only time Bumblebee had spent outside of Ironhide's hold had been during his last brig duty a half joor ago. Ironhide was no expert on physiology, but he was pretty sure that being curled up in the same position for such a long period of time was not good for Bumblebee's physical development.
Even shoot-first-ask-questions-later Ironhide was willing to admit that.
And if the Hatchet ever found out just how often Ironhide was carrying the yellow sparkling, well, Ironhide would more than likely receive a long-winded lecture and wrench to the faceplates. The Pit-fragging medic had been watching him like a robo-hawk over the past few vorns. Then again, Ironhide really did not care what the cranky medical officer had to say, anyways.
Bumblebee was his sparkling and Ironhide would carry his sparkling as much as he wanted. Period.
"Red Alert?" queried Ironhide when he came to the security director's office. He waited for a few moments before saying into the intercom on the outside of the doorway, "It's Ironhide." He waited another few astroseconds. "I have Bumblebee with me, so open the fraggin' door already, would ya?"
The sound of clicking resounded not even an astrosecond later, the familiar head of Red Alert peeking out from around the corner of the doorway. "Come in," said Red Alert, motioning for the older mech to enter immediately. "Why in the galaxy are you out so late with the sparkling?"
"Because our room's so cold that I don't wanna leave him behind for more than a breem," stated Ironhide, immediately slumping into one of the chairs before shifting the sparkling into a more comfortable position on his other shoulder. "I can see particles in the air for Pit's sake, that's how cold it's gotten in there."
"That's odd," murmured the red mech, immediately moving to one of his consoles on the far side of the room, "I have not detected any malfunctions within the system. But I will run a diagnostic and full-system scan right away."
Ironhide merely watched as his paranoid comrade continued to mutter about all of the possibilities of intruders infiltrating his ventilation system, most involving some bizarre conspiracy theory that the Decepticons had speared into action. The weapons specialist let out a quiet sigh, accustomed to the eccentric ways of the twitchy Autobot, and closed his drowsy optics as the soothing hum of the computers and monitors lulled him into a light recharge against his will. After all, it wasn't like a short nap could do any damage, right?
Unfortunately, it was at that moment that the sparkling decided to awaken from his recharge. Bumblebee clicked quietly, his droopy optics gazing up at his guardian whilst his tiny digits curled around a thick black finger. His interest slowly drifted towards the other side of the room, a soft twitter escaping his vocal processor as he watched Red Alert talk to himself and the sleeping Ironhide. Sadly, the poor security director had no clue that his only listening audience was a little yellow sparkling.
Click. Buzz. Click. Twitter. Click. Chirrup. Buzz. Click.
"Oh, hello there, little one," said Red Alert, jumping slightly in surprise when he turned around and saw the tiny sparkling clicking at him, "I did not realize that you were awake." His deep blue gaze shifted over to the sleeping black mech. "Or that my target audience had slipped into recharge."
Bumblebee released another series of quiet clicks, his curiosity piqued by the many bright screens that covered the high walls of the Main Security Room. He had never been in this room before but it looked really interesting! Maybe he could—
"Hey, Red!" shouted the familiar voice of Inferno as he appeared in the doorway, his towering frame casting a long shadow as he casually burst into the paranoid mech's safe-zone, "Have ya seen Warpath or the twins in the last few breems?"
The security director nearly jumped out of his frame, his plasma rifle pointed at the form of his best friend, snarling in exasperation, "What have I told about barging into this room without some form of warning, Inferno?!"
"Ya worry too much, Red," said the huge mech with a nonchalant wave, "Besides, ya should be used to it by…" He slowly trailed off, his gaze locking onto the little yellow bundle in Ironhide's arms. "Well, well, well, what've we got 'ere? I think it's way past yer recharge time, lil' buddy!"
The sparkling squealed in delight, his tiny frame vibrating with excitement while his guardian awoke with a violent jolt and a loud snort. Ironhide instinctively clutched the tiny yellow bundle into the crook of his arm, earning a muffled squeak from the little mech. He did not appreciate being handled so roughly!
"What the frag!" grumbled Ironhide, his droopy optics shifting around the room before they finally landed on his large comrade, "Oh, it's jus' you, Inferno."
"Yeah, it's jus' good ol' me," chuckled the search and rescue specialist, his dark blue optics twinkling with warmth as he affectionately patted the sparkling atop the head. "But, I think we've got a little problem that needs to— "
"I found the problem," shouted Red Alert suddenly, his fingers rapidly dancing over the keys on one of the terminal's keyboards. "It would seem that four of the temperature regulation gauges were turned off on the fifth floor." The security director's brow ridges furrowed in thought. "But I don't understand how that's possible…"
"What do you mean?" asked Ironhide. "I thought the temperature of each level could be manually adjusted on that floor?"
"Well, they can be, but it would seem that the same four gauges were turned off on more than just the fifth floor," he murmured, his optics carefully scanning the screens as he became more and more uneasy. "There's no reason for anyone to need to adjust more than two gauges unless there was a— "
BBBOOOMMM!!
The three Autobots instantly jumped to their feet when they heard the loud sound of an explosion echo through the battleship, followed shortly by a blaring alarm that Red Alert himself had installed a few vorns ago. It was not long before Prowl's familiar voice resounded over the intercom system.
"Every mech who had brig duty within the past four shifts is to report to the tenth level immediately! I repeat: Every mech who had brig duty within the past four shifts is to report to the tenth level immediately!"
Both Ironhide and Inferno were out of the room within less than an astrosecond as Red Alert went into a glitch-like frenzy over the terminal screens. The weapons specialist returned to his room first and placed the sparkling into his crib, Inferno waiting impatiently at the door as the alarm continued to blare in the background. They could clearly hear the sound of shouts as their comrades ran towards the tenth floor.
"Hurry up, 'Hide!"
"I'm coming!" snarled the larger mech as he jammed a roll of plasma missiles into his left cannon. "I can't be caught unprepared in case any of them fraggin' 'Cons decide to get frisky," he argued with a malicious smirk.
"What 'bout him?" asked Inferno as they were about to leave the room, his optics catching sight of the sparkling who was watching them from his crib. "We can't jus' leave him, can we?"
The sparkling was watching the pair with watery optics, tiny whimpers starting to escape his voice capacitor when he realized that the two mechs were going to leave him alone. Bumblebee gave the inflexible rails of his crib a few good shakes before reaching out with his arms for Ironhide.
"'Hide! No go! Take Bee!" cried the sparkling, his tiny frame quivering in fright from the loud sounds all around him. "Take Bee!"
Ironhide sighed and walked over to the cradle, placing an enormous hand atop the sparkling's head before giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. He knew he could not sneak Bumblebee into his carrying hold without Inferno noticing, so he was in a lose-lose situation. "You be a good mech and take a quick nap while I'm gone, okay? And cover up nice an' tight with those blankets, understood?"
This did little to pacify the sparkling who simply began to whimper even louder at his guardian's words.
The titanic mech gazed down at his sparkling with sorrowful optics, inwardly chastising himself for not putting Bumblebee into his carrying hold in the first place. He could have avoided this whole situation if he had simply slipped Bumblebee in before going to the security room. But he knew it was not good for Bumblebee to stay in a curled position for too long, so Ironhide had decided when he picked Bumblebee up from Raindance's room that the sparkling would have to recharge in his crib for the night.
Now Ironhide really wished he had gone with his instincts.
"I'll be back as soon as possible, little one," reassured Ironhide as he stood and forced himself to ignore the cries of his sparkling, "And I'll send someone up to watch you in less than a breem. I promise."
Bumblebee's whimpers turned into quiet sobs when he saw the two older mechs disappear out into the hallway and the door swiftly slid shut in their wake. The sparkling did not like being left alone. He wanted Ironhide to hold him in his strong arms and make the loud noises go away.
"'Hide…"
The sparkling continued to whimper for a few more moments before he finally crawled under the soft yellow blankets of his crib and snuggled into his fluffy pillows for extra warmth. He wrapped both of his arms tightly around Rufus and sniffled a few times. Bumblebee was rarely ever alone in his room and the only thing keeping him calm at the moment was the familiar softness and light yellow hue of his cradle.
Bumblebee would have much preferred to have been curled up in the warm safety of his guardian's carrying hold. He loved the blazing hot feel of the older mech's spark and frequently fell into recharge against it. Ironhide never objected to his demands to be placed within it; instead, he seemed to encourage the sparkling to ride inside him. In all truth, the only place Bumblebee felt safer than Ironhide's carrying hold was Optimus's, but that was probably because the sparkling was able to connect to the Autobot commander's spark.
And what a warm, nourishing spark it was.
It was a short while longer before the alarm finally stopped going off, but then the eerie silence of the room and surrounding hallways made Bumblebee feel more than a little uncomfortable. However, it was not until the sparkling heard the sound of skittering claws on metal that he truly became fearful of his solitary dilemma.
The quiet scratching went on for about a half-breem with a few loud bangs echoing through the room every once in a while. Bumblebee simply sat beside the rails of his crib with a blanket wrapped around him, his optics following the sounds as they moved from one wall to another. He slowly came to the conclusion that whatever it was that was running through the ventilation system of the walls could not possibly be threatening. If anything, it seemed to possess an awful sense of direction. Perhaps even worse than Fireflight…
And that was saying a lot.
Bumblebee had lost count of how many times he had heard the resounding bang of the thing running into the walls.
Maybe the thing had gotten into the twin's secret stash of high-grade?
Oh, the Hatchet would just love that!
The sparkling continued to listen to the non-threatening bangs and clangs of the thing in the wall, his small legs swinging back and forth through the rails as he waited for the thing to discover one of the three vents that marked the room's lower walls. Bumblebee had concluded that something that stupid could not possibly be a threat to him and that he had no reason to be afraid of whatever it was that had invaded the ship.
BANG!!
Bumblebee rolled his optics in exasperation. He could not believe that the thing had not discovered the air vents yet.
How dumb could it possibly be?
Bumblebee himself could barely walk more than two dozen steps before his weak, infantile legs gave out on him, and even he had already made a go at getting into the ventilation system. And he was pretty sure that if he had been able to get into the system, he would have easily been able to get out of it too. It could not possibly be that hard to navigate through!
The sparkling released a few distinctively agitated clicks, his small arms crossing as he mapped out the ventilation system in his processor. He could already picture the slope of the tunnels as they moved from floor to floor, angling upwards and downwards with a number of little grooves in the sides. Those grooves would make perfect footholds for a mech who still crawled more than he walked. Besides, Bumblebee would probably be able to move quicker inside those fragging walls than out in the towering hallways of the battleship.
He could never seem to make it from one room to another without his legs giving out.
I hate walking, sulked the sparkling internally, Who needs it, anyways? Crawling's much better!
The sound of devious twitters and buzzes filled the air as the little mech planned his journey through the vast tunnels of Artemis I. Bumblebee could barely contain himself as he pictured the weaving metal passageways. He would have his great adventure and he did not plan on being bested by whatever it was in there already! But first…
He needed to get out of this Pit-forsaken crib.
Bumblebee ignored the loud banging sounds of Thing and looked around his crib for anything that would help him get up and over the rails. The sparkling spotted a few cubes in the far corner of his crib that he had been playing with the other orn and quickly crawled over to inspect them. They were fairly large in size and very durable. Perfect for helping him climb over the rails of his crib.
"Come, Rufus!"
With his stuffed assistant by his side, Bumblebee carefully constructed a small step-ladder along the rail with the ten cubes he had at his disposal. Then, to guarantee that they did not fall over, the sparkling pushed his pillows up alongside the cubes and then placed his soft blankets to the side in case he really did fall. Better to be safe than sorry. And just in case this did not work, Bumblebee did not want Ironhide to find out about what he had been planning during the weapons specialist's absence.
"You first," said the sparkling, throwing Rufus over the rails. "Now Bee."
The sparkling climbed up the makeshift stepladder with wobbly legs, his tiny hands grabbing for the rails as soon as they were within reach. He was not the most balanced mech in the universe and was very aware of this fact. Ratchet assured both Bumblebee and his guardian that the sparkling's poor motor skills and slow physical development were due to his unusually tiny size. Nevertheless, the CMO was very confident that Bumblebee's balance and motor skills would improve with age and the acquisition of new frames.
Then again, Ratchet had also said that younglings were often extremely awkward and clumsy for quite some time after they received a new frame, so Bumblebee was pretty sure that he would be right back at square one when he acquired his second frame in the distant future. Not the most promising coming-of-age ritual if you asked him.
Ironhide always joked that Bumblebee would have so many dents in his cranium by the time he was ready to receive his fourth and final frame that the Hatchet would probably make him wear a reinforced cranial-helmet for the first few vorns.
His guardian had taken a wrench to the noseplate for that particular comment.
Ratchet had hollered at Ironhide for almost an entire joor about "not saying such fraggin' stupid things in front of the sparkling" and "possibly damaging the sparkling's self-esteem for life". In all truth, Bumblebee had not understood what the two snarling mechs were arguing about in the first place, so he had simply sat quietly on the examination table in an attempt to avoid either of the older mechs' wrath.
"Aha!!" cheered Bumblebee when he finally got to the top, his small hands latching onto the rail. He pulled himself the rest of the way up and attempted to sit on the edge of the rail so that he would not take a nasty fall.
Of course, for a clumsy sparkling such as himself, such things rarely worked as planned when matters of balance were involved in a situation.
"Uh oh."
Bumblebee clicked in dismay as he tumbled to the floor, landing hard on his little aft right as Thing decided to run into the wall again. The disgruntled sparkling released a series of vehement clicks and buzzes at the wall, secretly hoping that Thing heard him and muted it.
"Owwie!"
Once Bumblebee was done tending to his aching aft, he crawled over to Rufus and retrieved his faithfully waiting partner-in-crime. Not wanting to leave too much evidence behind, the sparkling crawled back to his crib, pushed himself into a standing position, and threw Rufus against the rails. The stuffed toy's right leg hit the top cube and knocked the flimsy stepladder over.
Now the crib looked nothing more than a mess of pillows, blankets, and toys.
Perfect.
The sparkling regarded his work with a satisfied nod before proceeding to crawl across the floor towards the nearest air vent. Thankfully, the vent was only located about two meters off the ground, so Bumblebee would not have a difficult time infiltrating the ventilation system.
Well, that was if Ironhide did not catch him first. His guardian tended to show up at the most inopportune moments.
Suddenly realizing an important fact, the little mech crawled over and opened the lowest drawer of his guardian's desk, using another one of his toy cubes as a step stool. Bumblebee rummaged around for a few astroseconds before he finally found what he was looking for in the farthest corner of the drawer. Unfortunately, he took quite a tumble before he was able to grab it and the little mech squeaked in displeasure when he felt one of his guardian's numerous tools poke into the opening between his waist and hip plates.
"Frag!!" squeaked the sparkling. "Frag! Frag! Frag!"
Bumblebee twittered in frustration, grabbing a medium-sized screwdriver before climbing out of the drawer and falling onto his aft again. The sparkling retrieved Rufus and crawled over to the vent. Eyeing the screws with concentration, the young mech quickly lifted the screwdriver and began to unscrew the screws on the air vent cover. It took a little over a breem, but Bumblebee eventually managed to get the last screw out and removed the cover with a relieved twitter.
"'Scape time!!" clicked Bumblebee.
The sparkling threw the screwdriver, the screws, and Rufus into the dark tunnel before entering himself a few moments later. And with a quick flourish that involved a short fight with the aformentioned air vent cover being pulled back into place…
Bumblebee was gone.
Took me quite a while, but I got it up. If you've been reading Youngling, then you are probably well aware of my health issues & the fact that I have not been able to update for a while. But I would like to thank everyone for being patient with me. And I will admit that this was kind of a transitioning chapter, but if there is any Autobot who you would particularly like to see spend time with Bumblebee, just let me know and I will try to either work them in or dedicate a chapter to them. Thanks for reading & I hope it lived up to expectations!!
