A/N: I know it's been a long time, but I haven't forgotten this story. Real life and all that. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I've been playing it in my head for awhile, but I've had to type it out in dribs and drabs due to time constraints. I hope it was worth the wait, and I'm sorry it was such a long wait. I've been feeling kinda bad about that, because I've gotten quite a few great reviews asking for updates. Well... better late than never, right?
Xen =)
A Trip to the Skate Park
Chapter 9: Blood Brothers
Despite the vast databases of knowledge at Barricade's disposal, for the life of him he couldn't come up with a word sufficient to describe just how annoying the yellow Autobot was. Engine roaring with as much power as he could muster, Barricade flew over the terrain as fast as he could, yet the Camaro kept up with him. Pursuing him. Doggedly.
Fraggit.
He wished Bumblebee would forget his rage and, THINK, just for a moment. Clearly, the only person that could have sent the message that led to Sam's rescue was Barricade; however, the dumbass didn't seem to be thinking clearly enough to reason that out. And Barricade didn't have the time to stop for a friendly cup of tea and explain it to him, either.
Gradually, as he put more miles between himself and the abandoned factory the Decepticons used for a make-shift vase, Barricade became more confident in the idea that Soundwave had lost him, and was unable to recover his now masked signal. Had he been discovered, he would have once again felt Soundwave's cold presence, and he didn't. He had no doubt the mech was looking for him, though; he'd turned traitor, Soundwave would know that, and the Decepticons would be looking to put his head on a platter.
Barricade decided it was time to do something about the insect shadowing him about two feet from his bumper. With a scream, Barricade managed to pull just a little more speed out of his already maxed out engine, just enough to give him a little bit more of a lead on the Autobot, then he transformed. He leaped, somersaulting in the air, one hand dragging the ground, filling with desert sand, and even as he landed, he was turning to face the Autobot, dragging one foot through the sand to stabilize against his forward momentum. Even before he was facing, he heard the sound of Bumblebee's own transformation, and he looked up to see the yellow bot bearing down on him in a charge.
Still clutching a handful of sand, Barricade threw it right into Bee's optics.
Bee came to a complete, shocked stop. He blinked his optics furiously as lubrication poured from them. It wouldn't seem that something so simple and small as sand would be so Primus-fragged horrible, but there it was. The gritty little grains were awful, and he stared at Barricade though the river of lubricant his optics leaked completely dumbfounded. Then he said, "You are SUCH a sparkling."
"I'm the sparkling?" questioned Barricade with a snort of derision, "Use what little data processor you have. Who do you think sent you that message? The lug-nut fairy?"
Bee's rage at Sam's betrayal, and the irritation of the sand in his optics twisted into confusion. If Barricade even knew of the communique, that meant he had, at the very least, a hand in sending it. He probed his memory carefully, looking at recorded pieces of data, that at the time, he'd paid no attention to. Didn't he remember Barricade pretty much throwing Sam at Sideswipe's open door?
Yes, he did.
At the time, he paid no attention to that detail, he'd been far too deeply immersed in his own shame and rage, but now that he considered, it would seem that not only had Barricade saved Sam, but he'd betrayed his own to do so. Yet, how did Sam get there in the first place? Obviously, Barricade, took him.
"Why take him to the Decepticons only to call me to come for a rescue?"
"They were going to capture him. They would have broken his mind, made him a slave or worse. If I brought him, I had some control over what was done to him."
"...Because you had hunter's rights."
Barricade gave him a curt nod in response.
Bee narrowed his eyes sharply, "You could have brought him to the base. Sam knows the way, he would have told you if he knew what was going on."
This was the part that Barricade was nervous about. He knew that the Autobot's would know of the 'Cons ideas about hunter's rights, so that was no problem, but, they would know as well as he that Soundwave hadn't set foot on this crappy little planet. He would have to hope that Bumblebee didn't figure his Soundwave-is-in-the-sky story as just that, a bit of fiction used to cover his own ass. Air hummed through his intakes in an imitation of a human sigh. Now or never. "I couldn't. I was being tracked, I would have led them directly to your base." And then he told Bee everything. How Soundwave had summoned him to a remote location, and scanned him without actually being there, how he'd led Soundwave to believe he was only using Sam, the ride to the factory, the message, everything. The telling left him feeling vaguely tired, and surprisingly lighter.
Bee turned from Barricade. He didn't need a sign to tell him that
Barricade felt relieved after telling him what had happened, and Bee could understand why. His optics were finally clear of grit and no longer streamed lubrication, allowing him a clear look at the dark desert plain surrounding them. He wanted to believe Barricade, for Sam's sake if not his own, but there was still a lingering doubt tainting his processors. After all, what better why to earn the Autobot's trust than by going through heroic efforts to save Sam regardless of personal risk? Once accepted, he would have access to any information the 'Cons needed. As much as he hated to think this whole thing could have been a Decepticon plot to deploy a well placed spy, Bee couldn't afford to overlook the possibility. Oh, sure, the Decepticons had suffered far worse in the last skirmish than the Autobots, but Bee knew that someone like Starscream wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice a few foot soldiers if it furthered his cause.
Decepticons were a suspicious lot, and Barricade had spent most of his life in service to them, so it didn't take much for him to come to the same conclusion that Bumblebee now considered. Now that he thought of it, as a setup went, it was actually a pretty good one, especially since everyone knew Prime was the type to always look for good in others. That didn't do him any good, now. Prime was noble, but his scout had spent far too much time spying, and therefore had a far more suspicious nature.
Barricade wanted to roar in frustration. What could he possibly say to convince the spy of his sincerity? He knew the old human saying, "Actions speak louder than words." was a true one, but he knew that without Bumblebee's trust, he probably would never get the chance to demonstrate that.
Actions speak louder than words... If only there was something he could do, anything. And then the thought came to him. There was something he could do. As quickly as it came, Barricade tried to squash it back down. Surely, there was something else. Anything. Barricade racked his processors. My little hamster is probably half dead on his wheel by now. Nothing came to him. Fraggit. He figured that Bumblebee was okay, but he didn't like him that much. Or much at all, really.
Squaring his shoulders, and his resolve, Barricade did the only thing he could do. He looked Bumblebee dead in the optics and slid aside his chest plates, baring his Spark.
Sam shifted in Sideswipe's black leather seat. It seemed to be taking forever to get to Gramma's house. His foot pressed the floorboard, pressing a gas pedal that didn't exist.
"Can't you go any faster?"
Side's smooth and slightly arrogant voice replied, "If you think you can get there faster on your own, you are welcome to walk."
Sam bit back a snappy retort. Sideswipe didn't understand Sam's urgency, and he wouldn't really, unless Sam relayed the entire tale. And he didn't want to do that. He knew he would have to face the Autobots, probably as soon as he got back to base, and there were going to be a lot of hard questions to answer, but he only wanted to do it once. He wasn't sure he could do it twice.
As they made their way into Tranquility, and got ever closer to Gramma's house, Sam had yet another reason to be tense. With everything that had happened, plus the cool safety of Sideswipe's interior, he'd almost forgotten about being nearly completely naked. Well that's just great. Some knight in shining I turned out to be. Forget Sir Lancelot, I'm more of a Sir PantsAreLost. How undignified is that?
When they pulled up in Gramma's driveway, Sam eased out of the car and fought the urge to sneak bush to bush to Gramma's back door. With his luck, the neighbors would look out the window, see some mostly naked dude sneaking around in the bushes and call the cops. Instead, he decided to march boldly to the door, like he belonged there, and showed up every night wearing nothing but drawers. He managed it with a minimum of fidgeting, and rapped on the door hurriedly. It seemed to take forever for the door to actually open.
He had to give Gramma this. If she was at all shocked at seeing him standing on her back porch, half naked and dirty, she didn't show it. Instead she looked at him and said kindly, "Son, I'm flattered by the offer, but I'm really much too old for you."
Just how many half naked men had been knocking on her door recently? Sam nearly asked before he realized she was joking. "Come inside. Boy, the neighbors tongues will sure be wagging if anyone got a glimpse of you."
Sam squeezed past her into the kitchen. He glanced around, but barely noticed the familiar cheery yellow décor. "Gramma, you have to come with me."
"Come with you? But its the middle of the night."
"Gramma, Cade is in trouble."
The change in the older woman was immediate. She went from slightly confused to fully resolved in about three seconds. "Trouble? Is he ok? Does he need help?"
"He's fine. But he sent me here to get you. He thinks the same people that are after him, and me, will come here for you. We have to go some place safe. Get dressed, and pack up a few things, then we have to go."
"How should I pack?"
Sam nearly said 'with a suitcase' but bit back the answer when he got a look at her. She wasn't asking with the air of a person wanting to know if sandals were okay for a hike, her question had a double meaning. Gramma was subtly asking if she was likely to see her home again.
"Pack like you can't come back." For just a moment after he answered, Gramma looked less like the spry elf and more like what she was, a tired old woman in a flannel nightgown, that was probably going to lose most of her possessions. Then that look was gone, and once again she looked like a sprite. Her spine straightened and she held her hand out to Sam. "Help me get to my room boy, its harder for me to walk without my braces on."
With help from Sam and her cane it didn't take long for Gramma to get to her room. She directed Sam to the left side of the closet. "Some of my husbands old things are in there. I couldn't bring myself to throw them out after he died. Help yourself. Just because you're on the lam doesn't mean you get to run around native."
Sam grinned despite himself. He pulled open the left side closet door and gaped at the largest collection of Hawaiian shirts he'd ever seen in his life. Deciding that if he was going Hawaiian he might as well do it right, Sam pulled out the most lurid shirt he could find- red with blue and green parrots. He hurriedly pulled on a pair of kaki pants and looked in the bottom of the closet for shoes, only to find about a dozen pairs of loafers.
"Your husband must have really liked loafers."
"Oh, yes," Gramma called from the master bathroom. "That was my Henry- all business from the ankles down."
Wondering how loafers could in anyway be all business, Sam pulled a pair onto his bare feet. No way he was wearing black socks with his loafers and Hawaiian shirt.
Sam glanced over at Gramma. While he'd been contemplating his newest style change, she'd gotten dressed, pulled on her braces and was stuffing items into a small suitcase. Gramma's clothes and toiletries were already in her bag and Sam watched sadly as she packed her jewelry and a few pictures of her dead husband and son. Guilt hit him like a battering ram. It was partly his fault that this nice woman had to leave her home at a time when she should be trying to enjoy life, and he told her as much.
She waved her hand at him, dismissing his concerns, " Oh, pshhh, there will be plenty of time for peace when I'm dead. Besides, I bet nobody at my bridge club has ever had an adventure like this!"
Shaking his head at the old woman's back he hefted her suitcase and followed her out of the house. Sideswipe popped his very small trunk and Sam put the suitcase inside. Sides opened the door for Gramma and she slid into his seat, taking car not to let her leg braces scuff up the leather. Sam got into the drivers seat, but didn't even bother pretending to drive.
"So this one is like Cade, then?" When Sam nodded, Gramma directed her gaze at the dashboard, "What's your name dear?"
Slightly taken aback at being addressed directly by a human outside Sam's family or the military, the silver Autobot answered, "Sideswipe."
"Pleasure to meet you Sideswipe. I have to say, you make the most stylish getaway car I've ever been in. Well, not that I've ever been in any getaway car, but it's nice that my first getaway car isn't a hunk of junk. And call me Gramma, everybody does."
"Yes, ma'am."
It was notoriously hard to figure out what Cybertronians were thinking when they were in car mode, but Sam had the distinct impression that Sides was just as dumbfounded as he was. From what Barricade told him, Gramma didn't know for sure that Cade wasn't human, only suspected. Either that, or she was just a little screwy in the head. Cade wasn't sure. But Gramma had sounded sure, quite sure, in fact.
"Gramma, how much has Cade told you?"
"Well, nothing really. He tries so hard to seem human around me."
"Well, if he tries hard to be human around you, how do you know he's not?"
Gramma's lips pressed into a thin line, and for one minute, Sam saw sadness cloud her face, then it passed. Smoothing out the fabric of her slacks she looked at Sam and said, "I see things sometimes. I imagine I'll have to give a full explanation later, but for now, you might ought to tell me where we are going, and exactly what is going on. Wherever we're going, I don't want to seem ignorant, it's unbecoming of a lady my age."
Sam slowly nodded. As curious as he was, she seemed reluctant to talk, and he didn't want to push. He figured Gramma had been through more than enough for one night, and this night wasn't anywhere close to being over. So he told her everything, he told her about Cybertron and the war, the Allspark being lost and found on Earth, and his role in the events in Mission City. Gramma paid close attention to his story, and while she expressed wonder, never once did she disbelieve him. Finally, as much as it pained him, he also, told her about Barricade, and his role as a Decepticon. He hated to say anything that painted Cade in a bad light, even if it was the truth, and Gramma deserved no less than that. Also, Sam knew that she would likely hear some things at the Autobot base about Cade that wouldn't be good, and Sam felt she should hear it from him first.
When he finished his story he glanced at Gramma out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge her reaction. What if she didn't anything to do with Cade now? What if she was repulsed by some of the things he'd done while in the Decepticon army?
Gramma was silent for a minute as she let all she'd been told sink in. Finally she patted Sam's shoulder. "I know what you're worried about, and you shouldn't be. Even good people make mistakes, choose the wrong path. But that doesn't mean they can't change."
Sam's relief at Gramma's answer quickly changed to dread as they pulled into the base. All he could see through Sideswipe's windshield was a really huge blue foot. Optimus Prime was waiting for them. He and Gramma got out of Side's interior, and Sam pulled Gramma's suitcase out of the trunk and led her a few feet away so Sides would have room to transform without squishing one of them. As soon as he regained his bi-pedal form, Sideswipe pointed one silver blade at Sam, looked Optimus Prime dead in the optics and said, "It's all his fault."
If Bee's design had allowed for the capability his bottom jaw would have been hanging down around his knees somewhere. The thought of Spark melding with Barricade was a weird one. He'd be more likely to proposition Optimus first. But he knew why the Decepticon was offering himself. There was no room for deception during a sparking. If he could maintain enough control through the pleasure of a spark meld, Barricade could choose to withhold memories, but he couldn't tell lies. In effect, Bee realized, Barricade was offering to bare his soul to him.
Slowly, Bee closed the distance between them. He realized it was the only way he could ever be one hundred percent sure that Barricade was being truthful, the only way he could ever protect Sam fully. And some part of him realized that if he sparked Cade and discovered Cade truly loved Sam, it might just be a little easier for Bee to give the human up to him. That part saddened him, but he'd long ago realized he would do anything for his best friend.
Even this.
His yellow chest plates slid aside and pressed to black ones, but only lightly. Bee felt the first tendrils of spark energy meet, his and Barricade's, curling around each other, teasing almost. Energy skittered along his neural net, sending fizzing pulses of pleasure along his sensors. He felt Cade shiver slightly against him, but the Decepticon said nothing, and gave no other indication of pleasure.
The memories came slowly at first, much like the first spark contact, and Bee quickly realized that Barricade wasn't going to hide anything from him. He was starting from the very beginning. Bee got a flash of the Sparkling Care Center on Cybertron, of the chaos inside as the Decepticon's systematically destroyed it, and at first those memories meshed with his own earliest memories. But where as Bee was pulled from the rubble to face Ironhide's stern but kind optics, Barricade's memories revealed being pulled roughly from some rubble, only to stare into Starscream's terrifying red optics. Bee felt his fear and confusion. Then the memories changed, and he saw terrified groups of sparklings huddled together, Barricade among them. He saw sparklings killed for nothing more than a whim, deprived of energon and forced to train until they dropped. He felt Barricade's will to survive, to live, to be strong.
The pleasure increased in intensity, forcing him to work to pay attention to all that he was seeing, all that he was feeling. He saw Barricade's refusal to participate in the rape of prisoners, saw the ridicule he endured, and the loneliness he that came along with it.
Bee planned to keep bonding under control, to allow him to examine all of Barricade's memories, but without thinking he reached out with his spark, melding them more completely. Pleasure lanced through him, and he realized how long it had been, since he'd shared this with another mech. Barricade gripped the sides of Bee's chassis and pulled him closer, their chest plates grinding together. Bee arched into him, straining to get their sparks even closer, and somewhere in the dim recesses of his processor he realized this had to be Barricade's first time spark melding with another Cybertronian.
Deciding that he might as well make it as good for Barricade as he could, he trailed his hand along the other mech's back, stroking the neural cable he found there, teasing it with small bursts of energy. This time, Barricade did groan, low and feral, and Primus, he sounded so good.
Bee felt the joint servos in his legs turning to liquid. Red warnings flashed across his optics, warning him of imminent systems overload. He felt like he was being assaulted on all sides. He felt the pleasure of the spark meld, the additional pleasure of Barricade's hand kneading a sensor array to the left of his chest plate, but there seemed to be a... feedback echo of sorts. Bee could have sworn he was feeling Cade's pleasure too, but then the memories started flooding his CPU, coming in quick flashes that he struggled to catch so he could examine them later, and he forgot about the weird echo. He saw everything after Mission City, Cade struggling with his loneliness, his realization that fighting was pointless, meeting Gramma, his first meeting with Sam at the skate park, wonder at how good a kind touch could really be, then at Mikaela's auto shop, taking Sam on the hood, feeling the boys release on Barricade's hood like it was his own was nearly Bee's undoing, but he only needed to hold himself together a little while longer.
He vaguely realized that he and Cade were no longer standing, but kneeling, clutching one another. He could feel air from Barricade's intakes against his face plates, and even that seemed to increase the pleasure on his already strained neural net. The most recent of Cade's memories swept over him, the cold reptilian presence of Soundwave in his CPU, his desperation to keep Sam safe, Cade's love for the boy, his devotion, and a fierce need to protect Sam at all times. Finally, he had enough, he knew Barricade was telling the truth, and he allowed himself to concentrate on nothing but the pleasure pulsating through his body.
Cade felt like fire was surging through his fluid lines instead of energon, but instead of pain he felt only intense pleasure. He was surprised at how easily he was able to give himself over to this, to just enjoy it. He knew that Bee was trying to focus, to pay attention to the memories, Cade had no such needs. He gave himself over to the sensation, recording the memories bombarding him for later, until he could pay proper attention to him. At some point, he and Bee ended up on the ground but Barricade wasn't sure exactly when. The writhed and pressed against each other, trying to get closer to the energy driving them slowly to overload. His final system warning flashed across his field of vision, and he locked optics with the yellow Autobot, only to find that Bee's optics were dimming as well. The pleasure seemed to plateau at a level that was just riding the edge of pain and it stayed there for excruciating seconds before finally peaking. His spark collapsed in on itself; the swell of pent up energy becoming too much for his spark to contain. Waves of pleasure cascaded through his systems one after another, far faster than usual, and he became aware that he was not only feeling his own overload, but the echo of Bumblebee's overload as well. As the pleasure started to ebb and fade, his systems started off lining one by one, resetting themselves, and rather than fight it, he rode the ebbing pleasure into a few moments of peace.
Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds for both Bee's and Cade's systems to come back on-line, so the peace was short lived. They were laying in the middle of the desert in a tangle of limbs. After several curses and a few smacks back and forth they made it back to their feet and resealed their chest plates, once again concealing their sparks. They stretched, letting cables unknit and gears loosen up. For fun, Bee smacked Cade on the shoulder, and got a slap upside his head for his efforts.
He really does love Sam, Bee thought. I think I can live with that.
"Finally!" Barricade roared. "Finally that fact has permeated your unnaturally thick head. Really, did you think I came out of recharge this morning and thought to myself, 'I think I'll betray the Decepticons today, that sounds fun and conducive to a long life.'?"
Bee whipped around and stared hard at Barricade with wide optics, "How did you know what I was thinking?"
"Because you said it out loud."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did. I heard you clear as day."
No, I didn't.
Words failed Barricade. He'd been looking dead at Bumblebee that time, he knew the Autobot hadn't spoken aloud, and that hadn't been a comm transmission either. He'd heard that directly from his own processor.
"You see? I-"
Barricade waved Bee quiet and concentrated for a second. He saw Bumblebee's confusion and even more disturbingly, he felt it. "Well, did you get the thought I sent you?"
"The cow goes moo? Really?"
"Yeah, really," Cade rumbled, "I knew you wouldn't be able to guess that."
"I would have."
Lies.
Bee scowled at him, but Cade ignored him. He didn't know much about the various bonds that were possible between mech's but he was fairly sure there was no way they could be totally spark-bound, as in spark-mates. Even he knew that could only be done once in a Cybertronian's lifetime. One full binding, to one spark, forever. As a result, there were numerous fail safes in place to prevent that sort binding from occurring accidentally. Of course, if they had somehow managed to become spark-mates, Barricade decided that Bumblebee would get the bitch-end of the relationship, and get to tell Sam.
"No way I'd be the bitch."
"Sure you would, all you do is bitch."
Bee scowled at him again, and began a very through self diagnostic. Barricade decided this was actually a good idea and did the same. He managed to locate the bond's code in his programming but couldn't identify what type of bond it was. Bonding wasn't his area of expertise. The last bond he'd had had been the bond with his Creators, and that had perished a long time ago with them.
"I know what it is."
Barricade looked at the yellow bot. "Is it permanent? Because if it is, and I have to listen to your thoughts prattle through my CPU for the rest of my life, I might take a nose dive off a really high cliff." Barricade looked around him, obviously hoping some cliff would be gracious enough to come park right beside him in case he needed it.
Bee shuttered his optics. "It's a sibling bond."
"We do not share Creators."
"No, but we were both some of the last created before the war. We're close to the same age, and we share the same basic matrix design... Cross reference what I just told you with the human term 'blood brothers'. The idea is very similar, only the process is different, and the results are more... intense. Spark melding must have triggered the bond somehow."
Cade's optics dimmed again as he searched the web. The term 'blood brothers' referred to a rather disgusting human act of symbolism, two unrelated humans (usually male, but not always) would cut themselves and mix the blood, cut to cut, to show that they were close enough to be siblings. Evidently it wasn't as popular today as it was in earlier decades, but Cade got the idea. Of course, for humans, it wasn't a permanent bond, only a symbolic one...
"For us, its permanent. However, you can have multiple sibling bonds, so our systems didn't feel the need to warn us.
"We're stuck with each other?" said Barricade asked glumly.
"Yes." Bee looked equally depressed.
"Let's go find Sam. We can always go hunt for a cliff after we know he's safe."
The thought of cliffs perked Bee up. "Agreed." Of course, thought Bee, depending on Prime's reaction, finding a cliff could very well be the least of our worries.
