Intercept
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I should think that rather obvious with my college-induced poverty and all.
Warnings: Onesided Bee/Sam
AN: There is finally some plot progression. Sort of. (Sigh)
Horror. Absolute, unabated horror. There isn't a proper way to express it. No words for the utter and complete chill that spreads from his sensory network to his extremities, colder than space and twice as deadly. The last time he'd felt remotely this bad was when Blue was all but deactivated by Starscream, taking the hit meant for Sunny. He'd sat on his berth for joors afterwards, just staring at the wall. Relieved for his brother's safety and infinitely guilty for it, terrified that his friend might die.
But even then doesn't really compare to now. This is different, a less muted form of misery. A deep-seated sense of shock, panicked realization as all the puzzle pieces slide into place, revealing the truth in all its Technicolor splendor, complete with soundbites and subtitles for the confused viewer.
Bee had…
Sideswipe didn't even want to think about it. If he could, he'd wipe the very memory from his processor, pretend that he'd never eavesdropped on Ratchet and Hide in the medbay. It wasn't his fault that he had been awake, unable to recharge after their recent battle, even with his injuries.
But he can't take back the argument he overheard, can't make it go away. And he can't not tell his twin about it. That's too much to ask, too big of a secret to keep to himself. The shouted words, the guilty recriminations, the entire slaggin' thing bounces around inside him like an overcharged Frenzy. Ballistic. Uncontrollable. Wrecking havoc on each and every thought and action.
Sunny's horror is a reflection of his own, arrogant mask slipping entirely as the truth sinks in. His optics are a pale blue, nearly white with shock and a hint of fear, digits trembling before he curls them into fists. He might be a cold and self-centered slagger, but even this is beyond him. It's one thing to mistreat someone like Cliffjumper, glitch that he is. That fraggin' mech is an adult. Old and strong enough to take it, to fight back if he dares.
This… this is different.
Sam's just a youngling. Young and confused and still trying to find his place. Primus, he's practically still a sparkling, not old enough to be away from his creator or out of the Youth Sectors, not even a vorn old! He's so… so slagging young! Too young.
Bee should know better than this. Should be better than this, better than an outright liar and fraud. Better than a 'Con. He's not normally the type to do something so selfish, so heinous. So unforgivable. To hurt a youngling, to use him in such a way for his own ends.
But Sides isn't an idiot. He can see the way Bee looks at Sam, like he's the greatest thing since the Allspark. Feel the bond resounding between them. Even Slingshot has noticed, and he's got all the psychic sensitivity of a toaster.
It doesn't take Percy or Wheeljack to figure out what's going on.
Their little buzzing Bee is in love. Deep, irrevocable, all-consuming love. And a not-so-small part of Sides is frightened by it, afraid of the strength of Bee's devotion and lengths he seems willing to go. Terrified of what the yellow mech will do when he realizes that Sam doesn't feel the same and probably never will.
It's going to be bad; he can feel it in his very spark and knows that Sunny does, too. Horrible beyond words and imagination. Not a matter of if but when. The youngling caught right in the middle, the epicenter of the blast.
He only wonders if poor Sam will survive.
Ever Hopeful,
Azar