Hi again, chapter four. This is pretty fun, but school does like to interrupt it. :/ But I will try to update a bit. Keep in mind that this story is a week after the films events, sorry for any confusion. Feel free to review C:

Bumblebee sat idly on the drive, Sam had started studying for a test on algebra that would issue tomorrow, he had moaned on the way home, stating that a test on Fridays was never the greatest of events before the weekend, and Sam for some reason did not ask Bumblebee for help and had settled n going upstairs to study. The yellow Autobot did not think twice on the human's actions, he was too engulfed in a certain police interceptor. Barricade had previously been patrolling the town and suburbs, perhaps bored or just up to something decepticon...... like. Bumblebee blinked, if he wasn't sat as a camaro he would have shaken his head, Sam was beginning to rub off on him.

He looked back at his scanner, nothing. The scout had announced to Optimus Prime that the mustang had since disappeared off radar around seven days ago; the leader simply stated that he should keep a look out for the decepticon until further notification from him. And so the young Autobot did just that, he kept his mind clear of whatever other information that would distract him from finding Barricades signal.

He dare not tell Sam of the police units disappearance, panic was uncalled for at this moment.

'Bumblebee.' Ratchet's voice sounded through the frequency, the camaro took no time and he answered.

'Bumblebee here, Ratchet. What's the stat on Barricade?'

'I have just checked up on Mikaela, no sign of Barricade there. How's Sam doing?'

Bumblebee felt a small stab of guilt in his spark, he replied quietly, 'I have not told him yet, I felt panic would not be wise in this situation.'

The Autobot leader was silent for a moment, probably running the scouts point of view through his head, 'I understand perhaps we should wait until he is in a more relaxed state, I will inform him of his bodies situation when he is ready, Ratchet out' and with that the connection cut out.

The spy scanned over the house, The Witwicky's were on there way to bed by the looks of it. He heard a few muffled words from Sam's bedroom. Judy popped her head out of the window, "Goodnight Bumblebee!" she whispered loudly, smiling at the yellow car below with enthusiasm.

'I believe she feels I'm deaf as well as stupid.'

Sam had told his parents about the Autobots, the decepticons, the war, the cube and what bumblebee and that he was an alien robot from outer space, also that bumblebee could not talk and so Judy in her strangeness has taken it upon her self to believe that Bumblebee cannot understand English and that is why he does not talk. Sam had tried to convince her otherwise, but she has seemed to stick with that story, so Bumblebee plays along.

"Goodnight Mrs Witwicky." He sang in cybertronian, not that she could understand it, but the idea that he tried to talk to her made her smile pleasantly.

Judy stood and listened to the whirrs, clicks and mechanical warbles, before smiling at him and leaving. Sam's had then appeared from the window, shaking and smiling.

"How long do you think she will keep believing that I'm so unintelligent that I do not understand the language in which all Autobots she has met can speak?" The human laughed quietly. "I'm sure she'll realise soon enough Bee." He stopped his talking to stretch his arms, "Any news on anything interesting? Government finished building the new base? Anything?" The camaro thought the situation over.

"I've lost track of Barricade." The scout announced stiffly to his charge, not a pause in sight. For a moment there was silence from the human, his eyes turned wide as replayed what his guardian had just stated.

'Barricade? Gone!? Oh no no no!'

"No no no no!" He carried on out loud, "Bee! Why didn't you tell me!?"

The camaro scuffed his front tyre on the dirt guiltily, "I didn't want to disturb your studying." He lied.

"Then why didn't you tell me earlier?!" He was getting hysterical and practically hanging out of the window.

Another scuff against the ground, "Because." He paused.

Sam watched the camaro waiting for an answer, Bumblebee grumbled something. Sam narrowed his eyes. The camaro spoke up.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"English Bumblebee." Sam stated quietly.

"I didn't want you worrying." The yellow Autobot stated truthfully. The human shook his head again, and then his eyes went once again wide.

"What about Michaela!? Is she okay?!" The cybertronian let a whirring noise out from somewhere behind his engine.

"Optimus called me around two minutes ago; he has sent Ratchet to check on her every night since and reported that Michaela was fine each night." The teenager let out a sigh of relief, he began again, "When did he disappear?" The Chevy rolled back a little, "Around a" Sam couldn't make out the rest, "Bumblebee" he groaned at the car, "Around a week ago." Sam didn't respond to the answer. He then continued his series of questions on the young cybertronian, "Where do you think he went Bee?" The scout didn't answer, scanning his radar again for any traces of decepticon he could find.

Blackout was having as much luck as the yellow scout in Tranquillity. His scanners could do all but show him who exactly was tracking him to the forest. He sat half expecting a jet to come thundering down, either letting hell loose on the fallen decepticon or coming to announce a new rise in the decepticon cause, or better yet an Autobot lying to his radar to get the better of him so that he doesn't flee, and either blast him back to the remains of Cybertron or welcome him to their wonderful world of love, kindness and where energon cubes fell from the sky instead of this dirty water filth.

A thunder of a strong engine, yes, but not of a jet. Then his fate was rather straight forward from here, he will die at the hands of an Autobot presumably the trigger happy one.

The rumble came a little closer, and the vehicle in question came slowly into view, weaving in-between the mass of trees.

"Fragging hell Blackout!" The sirens atop the interceptor gave a whoop for the hell of it, "How did you manage to get into the forest?" The pave lows spark relaxed at the sight of the mustang.

"Flew" The helicopter stated, slumping against the tree again, his optics shuttering closed to recharge, "May I ask how you got all the way to Canada?"

The black and white swiftly transformed, stretching his arms up and settling down on the damp floor. His quadoptics scanning his comrade's state as he replied "Drove." He smirked at the statement, Blackout let out a muffled chuckle, "of course".

Barricade let a soft snort blow out from his vents, Blackout had the strangest of luck, taking bashes from mechs of such fierce power, and being able to continually get back up without so much as a few smashes here and there. He took a loose wire with his talons from the pave lows left leg and began to work; thin claws always helped deal with larger problems.

"I take it you've realised what I was trying to protect your stubborn aft from?" The interceptor began, plucking up various other wires, untangling and resorting them between pieces of bent twisted metal. The tyres upon his shoulders spinning slowly every so often, his optic ridges narrowed down when a low chuckle flowed from Blackouts throat.

"I thought you were pulling a 'screamer trick on me."

The helicopter laughed again when the police car scrunched up his metal face, "You should know better than to compare me to that slagger!" He grunted at a small wire that refused to budge from its place, he tugged harder. Blackout was apparently oblivious to it and scratched the place where a human would guess a nose would be.

"Yeah, I guess." A smile, then a grin, "Sorry." The mustang stuck a talon into some circuitry, Blackout winced.

The car impersonator leered darkly at the larger mech, "Sorry what?"

"Sorry Barricade."

The claws dug deeper, "Sorry Barricade for?"

An awkward smile, "Sorry Barricade for being a complete aft head and not listening to you when you were." He trailed off looking for the right word, the interceptor groaned.

Blackout looked thoughtful for a moment before settling for; "Right". He smiled at the smaller cybertronian closing his optics. The other just shook his head, letting the smallest of smiles creep past the corners of his sharp toothed mouth.

I love these two; Blackout should not have died!