Work
He heard the door slam open and mech feet stomp in. "Time for work Droct, we need to beat the others," T'ran's voice announced as she rudely interrupted Bee's thoughts. Bee slowly pealed himself from the comfortable warmth and safety of lying in Droct's arms and stood up. Turning his head in the direction of her voice he smiled his greeting.
"Your project looks a bit stronger today," she observed as Bee stood up. Her tone showed that she meant it as a compliment to both mechs. Warmth spread through the tarp covered mech, he did so want her approval. He really did want her to grow to like him. Bee nodded to her with a grin, he was indeed much stronger than yesterday. Thanks to them…
He imagined Droct nodding towards him. "Yep. Guess he could come with us. If I just pull the trailer, he can ride in my bed," the mech said. Bee relaxed, because he really didn't want to be left alone. He'd rather follow his friends around blindly than to face his memory echoes all alone. At least if he was busy, maybe he wouldn't have them. If he was trapped all alone in the shack, he knew that it wouldn't take long for every sound to scare him. He was blind and basically still naked. Totally defenseless to anyone who would wish to use him.. But as long as his rescuer was with him, he was not defenseless.
"Well, guess so. It'd be better if he could see. But I guess he could just stand by the trailer and stack the recyclables as we pass them to him;" T'ran's voice agreed.
Bee nodded excitedly to her words, desperate to do anything that would keep him with them. To do anything to help prove his worth to them.
"Did you ask M'ron how much lenses and repairing his vocals will cost?" Droct asked. Bee turned to him and smiled, letting him know that he'd asked the question that had been on his meta.
"Yep, about the same. So I'd repair his optics first, he could be more useful then. Maybe with him working too, it won't take as long to save up for the rest," T'ran stated matter-of-factly. Bee could almost picture her as the pragmatic Prowl he knew so well.
"Did ya order them already?"
She snorted; apparently she always ordered things and told him later. "Of course. They'll come in on the next shuttle."
Bee felt Droct's hand squeeze his shoulder. "Few more day cycles, and you'll be able to see again."
Bee turned toward Droct's voice, smiling and nodding. He'd like to be able to see again, and though he really wanted to be able to talk; he guessed that that could wait. Boldly he wrapped his arms around his rescuer, wanting the mech to know how much it really meant to him.
T'ran's chuckle filled the shack. "It seems your little Yellow has already grown some attachment to you," she noted.
Bee felt Droct go a touch warmer, could envision a blush going over his face. Pulling away from him, he mouthed the word 'friends' as he patted that strange-feeling shoulder armor.
"Ya, um, guess we're friends now," Droct stammered to his sister.
The sound of a mech turning and opening the door filled Bee's audios. "Well good Droct, I hope he turns out to be a true friend this time," her voice said as she walked outside.
Bee nodded as hard as he could, hoping that Droct was watching. He wanted the mech to know that he wouldn't leave him with nothing like all the others before him had done. He'd pay him back… Double!
He heard a sad sigh, but Droct said nothing. Fingers gently encircled his and Droct led him out of the shack, then he heard the mech transform. While T'ran went and got the trailer and began to hitch it to her brother; Bee felt his way along his friend's alt mode. Carefully climbing into the truck bed, he sat down cross legged and grabbed the sides. He'd work to the best of his minimal abilities, he owed his friend that much!
He felt Droct slowly pull out, the rough uneven surface causing the truck to jerk and bounce. The garbage mech tried to go as slow as he could, hoping that he wasn't jarring his passenger too badly. But Bee just ground his jaws against the discomfort of his sensitive circuits being hit with the sudden pressures and jolts.
"I'm sorry Yellow, ground's pretty rough here. I know it's jarring your circuits." He heard Droct say softly. So soft, that Bee could barely here him over the squeaking of Droct's own bad shocks. Cringing as he listened to those failing shocks, Bee still couldn't believe that the mech would fix up others – and neglect his own chassis in order to do so..
Squeezing his hands that were gripping the sides of Droct's bed, Bee hoped he knew that he understood. That it really wasn't that uncomfortable! As he thought that, the truck hit another jarring bump, causing Bee to swoon in pain. Grinding his jaws, he tried to ignore it.
"Hey Droct, you ugly slogger, found yourself another one – huh?" a male voice insulted.
Several more unseen garbage mechs snickered. "Yep, you're so ugly the only way you have friends is to fix up worthless wrecks!" another insulted.
Droct stayed quiet, obviously used to these insults. But little Bumblebee wanted to jump up out of his bed and strangle the speakers. Granted, he didn't know what Droct actually looked like, but he didn't think the mech could be that ugly. And plus, Droct didn't rescue a 'worthless wreck' – Bee was an Autobot!
"Why don't you pricks just shut up," T'ran's voice rang out.
More snickering; "Why do you stick by your ugly brother, T'ran? He's such a loser he can't even defend himself!"
"Do I need to send M'ron to visit you?" the femme asked. Silence followed her words, so obviously she had threatened them.
They drove a bit further, then Droct stopped and Bee slowly climbed out. Hearing Droct transform, he felt the mech gently put an arm around him. "I'm sorry about those rude rust buckets. Don't listen to them, you're not a worthless wreck," Droct whispered to him.
As T'ran and Droct walked off, beginning their daily search for recyclables, Bee stood with his hand on the trailer. Once again, the mech had apologized to him. But that's not what bothered Bee. What bothered him was the fact that neither the mech nor his sister denied the fact that Droct was ugly. Could the gentle mech really be THAT ugly? Perhaps when Bee got back to the Autobots, he'd ask Ratchet and Wheeljack to rebuild his friend – if Droct wanted. He owed the mech that much.
---
For several hours, Bee stood by the trailer, keeping a hand on it so that he wouldn't lose his bearings. Periodically, he'd hear either T'ran or Droct approaching. Sometimes he could hear metal being dragged, sometimes the recyclable was small enough to be carried.
"Careful, Yellow; this one's a little jagged." T'ran informed him as he reached for the recyclable she had dragged up.
Smiling, he nodded. Running his fingers along its surface, he judged by feel, just how jagged it was. Positioning his hands to where he could keep it off of his tarp-protected arms, he carefully loaded it into the trailer. In his processor, he had a mental picture of how the trailer was loaded – developing that picture through his sense of touch.
T'ran stood there a second, watching the blind mech load the piece. She had to admit, he seemed pretty smart and willing to work. Doing what he could despite his great limitations. "You're a tough little mech, Yellow," she complimented.
He listened to her as her steps faded into the distance. He knew that she was a nice femme, just overly concerned for her brother. She really had no hard feelings towards him, she was just worried that he'd hurt Droct.
Smiling to himself, he tried to envision their reactions, when he got Optimus to send them new tires and funds in order to repay them. He hoped they'd be as happy as he thought they'd be. For he truly owed them that much!
---
Discovery
Hound stopped in a squeal of tortured rubber. Trailbreaker ran into his tailpipes full speed since he had given no warning. The sound of their impact echoed from the disserted and bombed out remains of the buildings in this disputed quadrant.
"What'd you stop for?" Trailbreaker asked in a bewildered tone as he transformed and rubbed his helm. A grimace of pain flashed across his face as he ran his fingers across the new dent.
Hound transformed, drawing air deeply into his olfactory sensor as he did so. "Sorry, I smelled something," he explained in a distracted tone. Continuing to intake air in big deep drawls, he soon found the direction that the scent was waifing from. Turning his entire chassis that way, he started walking to the edge of the elevated roadway.
"What type of smell?" his partner inquired. Keeping his long range scanners peeled for Decepticon activity, his optics followed the detective as he moved towards the edge.
"Energon and other fluids, not more than a few cycles old either," Hound explained. He noticed a newly damaged side wall to the road way, as if a ground mech had recently smashed through it. Kneeling down, he sniffed again as his optics and hands scanned the damage. There were traces of various mech fluids on the torn sides, but not enough to account for the intensity of the odor he was detecting. "But I'm detecting far more of a concentration than what I'm seeing here," he mumbled as he rubbed his chin in thought.
Trailbreaker scanned the skies warily as he walked over to the damaged side wall. "Perhaps the mech went all the way down?" he offered.
Hound sighed as he stood up. "Perhaps, but that's a long ways down. Whoever it is, is either heavily damaged or off lined from the impact," he said as he shook his head sadly, "If we're lucky, it was one of those damned Stunticon freaks."
"Ya, but if we're not?" Trailbreaker muttered as he looked over the side, trying to see the mech. His optics picked up a large dried up puddle of fluids far down below, but then there was a trail of it that went under the elevated road way and out of his view.
The detective sighed. It was a long way down and they'd have to go the long way around to get there since they couldn't fly. But if it was an Autobot, they had the moral obligation to do so. Even if it was just to bring the off lined back for internment. "See anything?" he asked, hopeful that Trailbreaker's sharp optics would discern the corps's insignia.
"Nope, whoever it was wasn't off lined by the fall. They left a trail behind them," Trailbreaker reported.
"Fraggers," Hound mumbled as he too looked over the edge and saw the dried up puddle of fluids. From his sensory data, he knew that it had been several day cycles since the accident, and from the amount of fluids spilt, there was little hope for the mech's survival. But since there was a chance he had been an Autobot, they had to make their way down there and start the recovery operation of the chassis.
"Well, guess we'd better head back the way we came and get down to the lower levels," Trailbreaker sighed. His tone showed just how depressing he found these recovery operations to be.
The two Autobots transformed and rolled out; their sparks now heavy with grief.
---
"Geeze, he's a mess," Trailbreaker said as he knelt and carefully rolled over the corpse. The extent of the damage made the corpse almost grotesque. One side of his face was smashed in, his armor so cracked and shredded that he was unrecognizable to them. But one thing was obvious, he had an Autobot insignia. He had been one of them.
Hound scoped the scene. "Poor bastard was still alive after he hit the ground," he wandered along the smeared trail of fluids to the retaining wall. "They dragged him here and laid him over it," he continued. Coming over to the mech, he pulled his legs apart. Nausea filled him as the evidence of what had been done to the injured mech became obvious. "Then the freagers raped him, several of them from the looks of it. When they were finished they left him to die," he finished.
A deathly silence pervaded the scene, as the two mechs looked at the corpse in sadness. No mech deserved to off line that way. No mech deserved to be force bonded with as he laid there helpless. It was obviously a Decepticon assault. They were the only sick bastards who would do such a thing.
"Well, I guess we'll have to remove his empty spark chamber and processors. Take them back for analysis and then internment," Trailbreaker said with emotion in his voice. A tear rolled down his gray cheek, for even though he didn't know who the wrecked corpse had been, it was an Autobot.. A brother…
Sliding his fingers under the mech's smashed bumper, he finally found the release latches. Prying the armor section up, he held it open as Hound knelt down and began to work on the latches to open the mech's spark chamber.
"Slag it Trailbreaker – the mech's still alive!" Hound exclaimed as the panel opened and the soft blow glow of the living spark filled his optics.
"Really?!?" Trailbreaker stammered in shock. He quickly grasped the armor section that he had dropped in shock, barely avoiding smashing his partner's helm.
Hound studied the weakly pulsating spark; it was obviously close to system failure. Moving his hands over, he accessed the emergency panel to the mech's primary core. Prying it open, his optics opened wide in anxiety as he noticed how critical the mech was. "Trailbreaker, if we don't get a little energon into him, he'll offline within the next breem," he said as he looked up at his partner.
The scout looked over the mech's tortured chassis. For an astrosecond he wondered if Ratchet could even piece the wreck back together. But they had to get the mech to him still functioning to even give him a chance. "How much energon does he need, to make it back to the East base?" he asked.
Tapping his fingers on the dented armor of the mech's leg, Hound made a quick calculation. "Eighth of a cube," he told Trailbreaker.
Since a mech normally had three cubes in their reserves and one circulating, this much wouldn't hurt a fully charged mech to donate. "Link him with the emergency tubes to one of my primary lines in my right leg," he offered.
Hound nodded as he reached into one of his storage compartments and fished out an emergency splice line. Leaning back into the prone mech, he carefully poked the needle directly into his primary core. Clapping all the outgoing lines except for the one that went to his spark chamber, he effectively sealed the system from any further leakage.
Sitting back up, he looked at his partner, who was still standing there holding the mech's armor open. "Top right?" he asked. He received his answer as a panel slid back, exposing Trailbreaker's primary fuel lines going to his leg. Carefully, Hound poked the needle on the other end of the splice line into the pulsing line. A glow started to go down the line as gravity pulled energon down towards the damaged mech.
"Just stay still, I'll cut off the flow in half a breem. Should keep his spark alive until we get him to that base," he said. He rubbed the unknown mech's arm gently as he controlled the flow into his core. "Stay with us buddy, stay with us…" he told him, even though he knew the mech couldn't hear him….
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So many of you have added this to your alerts, but so few comment… Am I screwing it up with the rewrite – or making it better?
