YEA LAD.
DONE ME A 'NOTHER CHAPTER OF THIS BITCH WHUT.
ya anyway now i have that stupidity out of my system, being as its the last day of my less than holidayish holidays, i figured i really ought to finish this fragger of a chapter. I have had little else but writers block for the entiiiiire thing. No idea why. Very annoying. Anyways...
Oh in case you were wondering NO THIS FIC ISNT DEAD ^.^ I just take forever with shit and have so many fics on the go atm XD
I believe i said this would be Bumblebee-centric in the last chapter. Turns out i was wrong, its more Prowl-and-Ratch-centric, but more than anything a total and utter unabashed ANGST-FEST. Thats right. it only goes downhill from here XD cause i suck like that.
Anyway, I really hope there arent any plot inconsistencies, that tends to happen when it takes me forever to write fics, i forget facts and mess up, i did re-read the various sections of this several times and they seeeem OK, but if you see anything wierdly nonsensical, please point it out.
Grammar fuckups don't count. I know i miss capital letters and put apostrophes in weird places and occaaaaasionally make up words, please ignore it, i have a hard enough time just typing competently these days and i have no idea why XD *suspects the keyboard, used the other one last night and found typing better*
So yea, for time legends see previous chapter header
I gotta think up another chap title and post this sucka then find something else to occupy the rest of my last mid semester holiday for this uni course (thats right betches, final grad-show project this semester, dont expect updates to get any better XD).
~Death Out
It was 11am in the humans time cycle when Prowl onlined again. He was met with the sight of Bumblebee's de-helmed face, optics black and expression blank… for a moment Prowl felt his spark contract in fear, and the insane notion that he was lying next to Bumblebee's deactivated frame flared across his meta. He sat up quickly, registering the soft beep of the spark monitor betraying the sub-compact's weakly pulsing core. Relief and anguish both flooded through the black and gold mech's frame, and he looked back over Bumblebee's still form. Ratchet had covered him in a micro-mesh medical sheet to help keep his system temperature regulated, and apparently he had managed to get Bumblebee into a peaceful recharge stasis.
Prowl realised he still had both servos clamped over one of the scout's own, and feeling the stiffness in his own joints, he carefully un-twined their digits and slipped off the medical berth.
Out of habit, he first scanned his surroundings, taking in the dim lighting, even though his chronometer told him it was relatively late in the on cycle.
They were alone in the med bay, no sign of Ratchet, and no sounds other than the monitors still attached to the sub-compacts frame.
Prowl stretched his cables, un-kinking them and rotating his joints. He was just having a small internal struggle over whether to leave Bumblebee to get himself some energon or stay and wait for Ratchet's return when the door to the bay slid open and the medic slipped into the room carrying two glowing pink cubes.
Ratchet threw him a tired looking half grin. "Hey. Figured you'd need some when you onlined, and I knew you probably didn't want to leave him alone."
Prowl nodded. He often forgot just how perceptive their resident medic was.
"Thankyou. How long has he been in stasis?" the gold and black mech asked, accepting the cube and following Ratchet to sit on the extra berth in the corner.
"Hmmmm, only about 10 human hours. It's doing him a lot of good though, his systems have already started to normalise again. 'Course it helps that he now has a full tank, but he'll feel better once he's had a full recharge too. His self repairs finally have a chance to get to work on the micro-circuit damage, and there's a lot of things I can't fix until those connections repair themselves."
Prowl nodded in understanding and took a draught from his cube.
"Have you spoken to the others much?" He asked quietly, gaze not leaving Bumblebee's offline form.
"Yeah. I'm letting them in to see him soon. They need it, and it's better to do it now while he's resting than put it off until he's awake. Less stressful this way. For him, at least, but that's the more important thing." Ratchet explained quietly, swilling the contents of his cube a little out of habit.
"What about your contacts on Cybertron? Were you able to speak to them?" Prowl's question hung with an unasked air of and did they agree to help?
Ratchet's optics brightened slightly. "Yes, I did… and they've been granted permission by the high council to come with the necessary materials. It'll be a few earth days until they get here, but those two are reliable."
Relief suffused the ninja bots frame slightly and he took a long draught of energon, looking down at his pedes before glancing back up at the unconscious Bumblebee.
"It's a lot of parts, isn't it… needed to repair him. How long do you think it will be before he's completely fixed?"
"Hmmm." Ratchet seemed to need a klik or two to think about that, his gaze fixed on some point on the monitors. "Honestly, this is the biggest repair on a mech as small as him I've ever had to do… almost all his armour will be new. A good forty percent of his protoform dermal plating will have to be replaced. He'll have a ventilations overhaul since most of his were collapsed in or the fans barely working. Some main conductor circuits in his arm and leg servos need replacing, ALL his integrating circuit panels need repair or replacement. Some new tension cables, new dermal sensors, new interface units and replacements for his mods. Overall, he'll be at least sixty percent a new mech. It'll take two to three weeks with the help of the bots I've called in." He sighed hard through his vents, looking wearier than ever. "And that's just the physical aspect. I couldn't tell you how long it'll take him to come to terms with all this."
"What if… he doesn't, come to terms with it?" Prowl asked softly, visor finally turning to look the medic in the optics.
Ratchet didn't think he'd ever seen Prowl so desperate and helpless. But he'd been seeing the distraught sides of his comrades he'd never hoped to see before a lot lately.
"If we do all we can for him, and he still can't find it in himself to take up his life again… I think the best we can do for him is take him back to Cybertron and find him a new life… find him someone who can really help him. There are… places for mechs who've suffered irrevocable trauma. But they all tend to think along the lines of completely severing all a bots ties to his old life to move on. If it came to that we'd… all have to let him go. Completely."
There was a quiet but distinct fear in the medics voice that made Prowl's optics widen. This was not something he had counted on… he hadn't imagined that failure to recover their companion themselves would result in losing him entirely even without him going offline.
And quite unexpected to him, was the severe jolt of pain the thought sent through his spark.
Sari walked in hesitantly with Bulkhead and her father, throwing another look of uncertainty towards Ratchet, who was over beside the medical berth where… where she knew HE was.
Prowl was in the corner, sitting on the extra berth and looking more exhausted than Sari had ever seen him… and it was an emotional exhaustion rather than a physical one, which made it all the stranger to witness from the usually reserved, stoic ninja-bot.
Reaching the berth, rather than climb up herself she allowed Bulkhead to scoop her up onto the surface without any protests of being perfectly capable on her own…
Finally, here he was… looking a lot calmer and more peaceful than the last time she had seen him. So… why did the sight of him now scare her even more than before?
It could be the fact his whole body except for his head was covered in a micro fibre thermal blanket. Or how small his form seemed with the lack of bulky armour. Or that she'd never seen him without his helm on.
Sari was frozen, kneeling on the berth, looking over the battered faceplate. She knew it was Bumblebee, but what scared her the most was not making the connection between the Bumblebee she knew and this… this battered, beaten, irrevocably broken looking thing before her… surely it was another mech? Surely THIS wasn't her happy, scrappy, fiery Bumblebee?
How could… how could ANYONE turn the Bumblebee she knew into THIS?
A trickle of fear coursed through her techno organic frame, making her hair stand on end. What if the Bumblebee she knew was gone forever? How could he still be in THERE?
Bulkhead barely noticed Sari's apparent inner struggle with her feelings over the reality of the situation. For him there was no surprise. There was no doubt his closest cybertronian friend was lying before him an absolute wreck. This scene had haunted his nightmares ever since they had begun fighting the Decepticons on earth.
Usually the nightmare involved all of his team mates, but in particular Bumblebee would be the one he feared for most because he knew, he had always known deep down that the sub-compact was the most vulnerable of them all, despite his energy and fighting vigour. Bulkhead had turned a blind optic to Bumblebee's lack of offensive capabilities, just like the rest of the team, believing he was probably safer to himself and others without wielding weapons that could inflict serious damage.
But now… now his spark positively seethed with guilt as he stared down at the covered, stripped protoform, knowing full well what was under that blanket and trying to push the memories of the vid files away so as not to purge his tanks. He had no right to do that. Not after Bumblebee had suffered so much for them and managed to survive.
Beneath the pain and self shame, the large green wrecker still felt a sense of awe towards his small friend. The fact he'd been brave enough to defend them against five Decepticons, brave enough to let them capture him, had enough spark to survive such horrific torture… Bulkhead knew he wouldn't have lasted. He wouldn't. His spark constitution was strong, but it lacked the vibrancy of Bumblebee's.
"Don't worry little buddy… they'll fix you up… Ratchet will bring you back." He said it as softly as he could without whispering, as much for his own and Sari's sakes as the stasis locked frame on the berth. Bulkhead reached out slowly and lay one of his massive servos ever so gently over the sub-compacts chest plate where his spark was. It was an old good health custom used frequently among small-town mechs, back on the energon farms where he'd onlined and lived for the initial vorns of his life stream. Not many of those customs remained in his active protocols, but it gave him a sense of security to fall back on this one, as if the gesture could somehow turn fortune in Bumblebee's favour.
The offline bot didn't move and Bulkhead removed his servo, sighing morosely through his vents.
Sari watched the gesture intently, bolstered somewhat by Bulkhead's confidence in reaching out and making contact with their broken friend.
Her eyes went back to his faceplate, Bulkheads quiet words echoing through her head.
They'll fix you up… Ratchet will bring you back.
Sari swallowed dryly. Bring you back. You have to come back Bumblebee. I don't know where you are, but you have to come back…
"It's not fair if you don't come back."
She was surprised at how she nearly whimpered the words, and suddenly she was reaching forward, arms wrapping around Bumblebee's jaw carefully but desperately, tears welling… stinging at her eyes as she shut them, as she clung to the cool metal faceplate and heard the quiet disrupted hum of his systems.
The reality of her friend's damage sunk in and she gasped, fear dousing her systems as she tried desperately, gaspingly to push it away with the thought of Bulkhead's words.
Ratchet will fix you… Ratchet will fix you… please let him be able to fix you… I wish I could fix you…
Even as she thought it, a strange shiver ran through Sari's body, and it felt like… like a part of her had obeyed her wish and was reaching out to Bumblebee's body to find out what was wrong.
A nanoklik later she recoiled as the feedback hit her.
Gasping sharply and letting out a strangled cry, she flung herself back as if burned, a horrible, twisting, painful sensation having shot through her very core.
"Sari, are you OK?"
Bulkhead's words were shocked and concerned, but the girl couldn't allay his fears… because she didn't know.
She stared at Bumblebee, whole body quivering, shaking her head slightly. The pain had been so intense… so suffocating… it lingered very dully even though she wasn't touching Bumblebee anymore and yet… she felt as if she'd hung on just an astrosecond longer she'd know exactly what it was and why it hurt.
As it was, she couldn't bring herself to do it… to touch him again and feel that core deep agony… it was too much for her, and she wondered with a sense of horror if she had just somehow tapped into what her friend was feeling right now…
"Sari? Speak to me kid, what happened, what's wrong?"
This time it was Ratchet. She felt Bulkhead's servo at her back, keeping her from falling backwards off the berth, and finally focussed her gaze on Ratchet, who was hovering over the berth looking at her with deep concern and a questioning expression. Her father hung back with an anxious expression, but he kept his distance to let the medic do what he was best at.
Sari glanced fearfully down at Bumblebee's impassive faceplates again and shook her head.
"I… I-I don't know… I just felt… felt something… it hurt… here." She realised she had been rubbing at her chest where there was a blue circle, the area she knew her primary power source was located, where she had pressed in the all-spark key to upgrade herself. If she still thought she was fully human, she would have said her heart was aching, but she wasn't even entirely sure she had one of those…
The medic frowned slightly, but in thought rather than annoyance. He ran a light scan over Sari's frame and his orbital ridges shot up.
"You're emitting a higher amount of all-spark energy than the readings I got when you recovered from your upgrade. You aren't injured though… do you have any idea what you just did? Why it might hurt?"
Sari looked between the impassive Bumblebee and Ratchet's worried faceplate.
"It's… not me that's hurting… I was just thinking that I wish I could fix Bumblebee, and then it was like my body tried to reach out and…" Her voice wavered as she felt more tears well from her eyes.
"I think I… felt… what he feels."
Ratchet looked a little stricken, understanding suddenly why she looked so terribly frightened. He reached out a servo and gently brushed the moisture from her cheeks with his finger.
"Aaaw, kid… don't worry about him, I know it's bad now, but give it time. His spark is hurting worse than his body right now, but we'll fix that too, we will. He's gonna need your help, but just be patient, he'll come back to you."
Sari could only look up at him gratefully, hopefully, and nod, wiping the rest of her tears away on a sleeve and sniffing.
"Is there any way I can help Ratchet? I know I'm a complete novice compared to you when it comes to Cybertronian repairs, but if there's anything I can do…" Isaac Sumdac offered solemnly from the other end of the medical berth where Bulkhead had lifted him.
Ratchet gave Sumdac a thoughtful look. "Thankyou for the offer professor, but most of what's broken even I need help to fix. Although… you did make him those rocket mods, and he lost both of them to
the 'Cons-"
"Say no more, I'll make a new set immediately. And if there's anything you need, materials, tools, just ask." Sumdac stated, prompting a genuine smile of gratitude and a nod from Ratchet.
Isaac Sumdac gazed down at the smallest of the Autobots again, unable to stop wondering just what was beneath the sheet covering his protoform. Sure, he'd seen quite a bit of Megatron's internal structure… and he'd thought the damage nearly irreparable. And yet he'd still had armour and obviously not been in an overwhelming amount of pain even with his head severed from his body, but… somehow, he had the feeling Bumblebee was in much worse condition than even the warlord had been. He had a keen appreciation at least of just how serious the sub-compacts state was. And the magnitude of the job ahead of Ratchet.
At the moment the medic was consoling his daughter with news of the help he'd employed from Cybertron… and even in the graveness of the situation Isaac found himself curious and even a little eager about meeting these new mechs.
All the same, it was bitter-sweet that he would have the chance to meet these bots of science only because of Bumblebee's suffering.
And that was another question in itself, one he wasn't sure he could really ask. How much pain could a Cybertronian feel? It had become clear to the professor in the Autobot's time on earth that they could certainly suffer as much emotional pain as any human, but physically? He couldn't really imagine what sensations their sensors let them experience. They seemed to enjoy a carwash like a human enjoyed a massage, and certainly, if Sari's accounts to him where anything to go off, their sensitivity to pain was greater than he expected.
And if it wasn't, he supposed with a sick churn of his stomach, then the torture needed to inflict the kind of pain that would make Bumblebee scream would have to be utterly horrendous.
When the three eventually left the still deep in recharge Bumblebee, Optimus slipped into the med-bay about a breem later. Ratchet had comm.'d him, and it had taken all his resolve just to let Bulkhead take over the monitors so he could visit.
The moment he set optics on the form inert on the med berth, the image of the arching, writhing, screaming mech he had last seen there flashed through his processor and he physically winced.
The worst part of that memory was the light of the scarred spark burnt deep into his memory core.
All the same, he needed to see the scout again. He needed to know Ratchet's assessment… most of all, he needed reassuring that the team mate who had saved all their afts was going to come through this in one piece.
"How long do you think it'll be before you can fix all the damage?" The red and blue bot asked softly as he stood by the berth looking intensely into the dented, scratched faceplate. It sent a dull throb through his spark just to think how he had seen that same faceplate smirking and smiling confidently one day… contorted in pain the next time… and now impassive as if offline.
"At least two or three earth weeks. Some things we can't fix until his self repairs finish regenerating his micro-circuitry and connection points. Can't put any armour on until his integration panels are fully online again." The red and white medic explained wearily, leaning with both servos on the edge of the berth.
"But you're able to numb his sensors right? He's not in pain when he's online?" Optimus asked with a hopeful tone. The look that passed over Ratchet's face as he met his gaze made the Prime's spark shudder uncomfortably.
"I'm afraid I… can't block it all out. I can only keep his sensors on the lowest sensitivity, and even then, the damage is so wide spread… You saw his spark, Optimus. Fact is, he's in a much more precarious position than he even looks. I can't risk over-taxing a damaged spark, and unfortunately the strength of EMP needed to completely block the pain could easily send him into spark-shock and we could lose him."
The Prime's faceplate fell and he looked back at the impassive expression of the offline sub-compact.
"I… talked to Jazz. He told me what he thinks happened to Bumblebee. I don't… Primus I wish I didn't believe him. Please, Ratchet, tell me he's wrong. Tell me they didn't…"
The intense blue gaze shot up and fixed on the medic's again, Optimus' spark lurching just from the look in the red and white bot's own optics.
"I'm sorry Optimus… it's bad. I could barely treat him the trauma glitches were so bad, at one point he regressed completely. He thought he was being… violated again…" Ratchet's expression twisted suddenly into an anger more intense than the young Prime remembered seeing on his friend's faceplate, "…by … Shockwave. As far as I can tell, they pretty much all participated in that form of torture, but Shockwave was here… he was the worst, he… he did that to Bumblebees spark. If I ever get my servos on the slagging pit-sucking scum I'll…"
The medic took a deep ventilation while Optimus stood rigid and frozen with shock at the information.
"How was he here without us knowing? Why didn't we see him during the fight?"
Ratchet looked up at his commander, the deep sorrow returning to his optics, slowly replacing the anger.
"The only one who got a glimpse was Prowl, and at the time he didn't even know what he was seeing. The fragger made a smokescreen escape, didn't even face us, wasn't even still there when the fight really got going."
Prime grimaced, clenching his servos against the berth. The two stood in silence while Optimus digested the shocking information, optics fixed on Bumblebee's faceplate once more, the weak but steady spark pulse on the monitor bleeping numbly through his audios.
He couldn't even stand to process what the scout had gone through. Could he have survived that?… Would he want to?
Did Bumblebee?
A pang of fear shot through the red and blue mech's chassis and he unconsciously reached out a servo and ran a thumb over the small bot's temple plating.
Primus he looks so small…
The Prime had never really thought about it, even though he'd referred to his team as a family more than once… but until now he'd not really processed the emotions around it. Bumblebee felt so much like a little brother. He'd never had one, and he was sure if the scout was his old self he would protest being thought of as a sparkling sibling, but Optimus couldn't help it.
And while the sub-compact had been loud and boisterous, Optimus had never really considered how little power he'd had. Bumblebee always needed back-up, and they'd always been there to give it to him… Optimus hadn't ever wanted to process what would happen if they weren't.
But I should have… If I'd just stopped to think about it… Primus, it's been a disaster waiting to happen. I should have given him something, should have trained him, made sure he had a proper means of defending himself, instead of letting him run off fighting with nothing but stingers and speed. I'm supposed to be a trained Elite Guard, why didn't I see this? Why didn't I fix it? What kind of a leader am I.. pit, what kind of a Brother would I be…
"I know what you're thinking kid. Don't even go there. Wouldn't matter how much training or weaponry Bumblebee had, five 'Cons against one bot… with odds like that against you, you'd need nothing short of the Magnus hammer to have a hope of winning. And you know he wouldn't have considered escape. Don't go blaming yourself, in truth we couldn't have done anything to prepare him for something like this." Ratchet said in a half scolding, half exhausted tone.
Optimus clenched his denta together and ex-vented, turning his gaze to the floor.
"I guess you're right… but I still can't help but feel like I failed him Ratchet. I'm the one with the training and weapons and I didn't even last as long as Prowl in that fight."
Ratchet scowled. "You're a Prime working with an informally trained crew on what has become the front line of Decepticon and Autobot hostilities. And the mechs at the top aren't even acknowledging it! Don't expect too much of yourself Optimus… you're doing all you can with what you've got, but we just aren't equipped for the action we're seeing."
The red and blue mech looked up to meet Ratchet's sincere gaze as the medic cycled through his vents in a sigh.
"As much as I hate to say it Optimus, something like this is probably what it will take for the Magnus to pay proper attention to what's going on down here on earth. I mean, come on… stasis cuffs? He gave us stasis cuffs to deal with Megatron and his top lieutenants? The others mighta thought that was a vote of confidence, but you and I both know it was a token to shut us up. They never really expected this team to be able to fight and capture Decepticons. They keep sending Sentinel out just to make sure we aren't all offline yet. Possibly mild interest in how our allspark fragment collecting is going, but they won't take the renewed Decepticon threat seriously until they think their own afts are on the line."
By the time the medic had finished, he was scowling and his vocaliser held a bitter edge.
"If any bots are to blame for what happened to Bumblebee, it's the bureaucrats at the top. And trust me… I plan to let them know it."
There was silence between them for a while as the Prime mulled over the medics words. He sighed softly, tracing his thumb over a long, shallow dent across the left hemisphere of Bumblebee's cranium. A blow hard enough to dent through a helm had to have hurt. Optimus' tanks churned at the thought of it.
It seemed however that Bumblebee was made of much tougher alloy than he'd known. He never saw the sub-compact as the sort who could take a beating like the one from the recording the Decepticons sent. Only a very select few bots of Bumblebee's size ever got to Minor, let alone Prime level in the Elite Guard simply because they couldn't hack the physical abuse training and endurance tests.
But Ratchet hadn't mentioned any sort of physical processor damage to the small yellow mech.
"By the way, Jazz got in contact with the team from Cybertron. They'll be starting off for Earth tomorrow, they should get here in about a week. All materials accounted for."
The medic looked up at Optimus' words, a new light of hope in his optics.
"Great… Bumblebee will probably be in recharge for another 6 days given the readings I've been getting from his self-repair systems. But the longer he takes the better. I don't want him to have to wait too long for the parts he really needs."
"About that, Ratchet… you haven't said anything, but I still couldn't help wondering… his processor wasn't damaged, was it? I mean… he took one pit of a beating…" the Prime voiced worriedly, running his thumb over another dent on the beetle's cranium, near his viciously damaged audio receiver.
The red and white mech shook his helm calmly.
"I haven't found any serious physical damage in any of my scans, and all the equipment showed his CPU and processors were fine. I can understand your concern… but you'd be surprised how tough sub-compact builds are. They look small and fragile, but they have more structural stability than mechs with bigger expanses of plating you know. His helm shape helped too, the round ones have better integrity than ones with flat surfaces. But…while the physical processor damage is minimal, the same cannot be said for him psychologically. I'm assuming you already knew that though, given it's part of the academy's training."
The Prime nodded and sighed through his vents, giving one more critical glance over the scout's offline form.
Prowl had not been able to stay away long. Ratchet had sent him out to stretch his servos, having had a hard time convincing the ninja-bot that he really did need to take breaks from the med-bay when he could get them, even if he'd rather stay by Bumblebee's side. The sentiment was admirable… but currently completely unnecessary given the sub-compact was in deep stasis and didn't know when he was or wasn't there. His final winning argument had been that when Bumblebee was awake again, he would be even less likely to want to leave his side, and that would mean long stints of confinement to the med-bay, so he really did need his time outside when he could get it.
He had gone to his grounding place, sitting high in the tree in his quarters, trying to meditate.
It had proved impossible, with all the anxiety in his spark. And quite apart from that, every time he offlined his optics, he saw Bumblebee fettered up against the Decepticon brig wall, looking colourless and offline.
After about two cycles of that, he'd given up and gone for a drive, accompanying Jazz on his patrol.
Neither had spoken much, but Prowl had felt, and very much appreciated, the waves of calm support that Jazz had maintained towards him.
It had indeed helped to fortify his spark against the fear he felt every time he looked at Bumblebee.
It was a fear he wished he could overcome. He so wanted to be able to drive it out with logic, but no self assurances of being able to help Bumblebee could make him believe that he could, without doubt, recover the mech they had known.
He had no control over the damage to Bumblebee's spark or body, he knew that. He could be there, he could give his all to support the scout, but if the pain proved too much for Bumblebee… or if his spark inextricably gave up it's incredible fight… there was absolutely nothing Prowl could do.
He was unaccustomed to feeling so helpless, and it only settled the fear deeper within him.
But he would not stop fighting it.
Prowl had made it clear to Ratchet that he would recharge with Bumblebee in the med-bay until Bumblebee was online again. The medic had not complained or protested, thanking him for his dedication to helping him by acting as an extra monitor. The black and gold mech knew just as well as Ratchet did though that his reasons were also selfish. He couldn't stand to recharge away from Bumblebee simply to allay his own fears, and probably to stave off memory purges and nightmares.
It was true that he felt to a degree that he probably was a help to the scout. He knew too much by now about the energies around a spark and a mech, conscious or unconscious. His cyber ninja training had been as much lessons in spirituality as they had actual fighting techniques. And processor over matter had been the ultimate proof to him that the unseen energies were as real as any solid matter that could be described and defined. He knew that on some level below either of their perception, both he and Bumblebee took comfort in the others presence at the moment. A feeling that seemed confirmed, though not entirely verbally, by Ratchet.
The air in the base remained heavy with tension and anxiety in the following joors while Bumblebee remained in stasis. It probably wouldn't change once he was online, not by much at least, but the crew did not fail to visit him in the same pattern as the first time for next three days.
It was the night after the fourth that anything tension breaking happened. It was just unfortunate that it broke the steady anxiety with terrible fear.
Prowl was in a fitful recharge. He could not settle his processor, even though he was technically in stasis. He didn't consciously know just how tuned in he was to the mech beside him.
Later, he would wish that he was more aware in fact… but it wouldn't actually do anything to change the outcome of events.
He, and indeed Ratchet, only became fully aware of what was happening when Bumblebee screamed.
"Primus, Ratchet, what's happening? What's wrong with him?"
Prowl was sitting up next to the scout, servos hovering uncertainly above the covered and quivering protoform as the still offline scout whimpered and begged and cried out in pain against an unknown assailant. The Medic had jolted online quickly, body responding before his processor had fully caught up. By the time he'd reached the monitors however, he was perfectly capable of reading them… it was just that they didn't entirely make sense.
"I… I'm not sure what's going on, he shouldn't be having memory purges, but that's what it looks like… and his spark is in distress, but he's in a powered down state, and I blocked his memory cache from doing a stasis purge, so I don't understa-"
The medic was cut off by another scream from the sub-compact before warning notifications began popping up on the screens and he swore.
"Primus almighty, he's coming out of the stasis lock! He shouldn't be able to do it for at least another 42 hours according to the monitors, I just don't understand thi-… no… oh no, no no no, I'm a complete idiot…"
"What, Ratchet what is it, what's happeni-" Prowl's frantic questions were cut off by alarms beeping and Bumblebee screaming as his optics onlined and he thrashed weakly.
"HNNNNN-NNNOOOO PLEASE… STOP, MAKE THEM STOP-" The broken cries were silenced as the sub-compact's vocaliser seized and barked out static. He twisted, servos scrabbling weakly at Prowl's chassis, and the ninja-bot acted without thinking, automatically drawing the battered protoform into his arms in an attempt to comfort him.
"Ratchet what is going on? What's happening to him?" Prowl asked anxiously again as the small mech writhed in his hold, keening and clawing weakly at his windshield.
The medic looked entirely stricken as he reached out to the scout and physically tried to soothe him, running one servo over his head and placing the other on an arm to steady the small bot's writhing.
"Shhhhh Bumblebee, it was a dream, no one's hurting you, it's a spark purge, I am sorry, I am so so sorry I forgot this would happen…"
Ratchet tersely dismissed a ping from Prime, who had obviously been roused from recharge by the sound of screaming. Ratchet wasn't concerned right now with how worried the rest of team were, they could wait until he had the situation in servo.
It took another klik of shuddering and sobbing keens for the scout to finally go somewhat limp in Prowl's hold, still conscious but obviously aware he was no longer trapped in whatever dream it was he had been having.
There was a crackle of static again before a soft, torn little voice finally came forth.
"Ra-atchet what… what's happeni-*zzt*-ing… my spark hu-*bzzzt*-urts…"
The medic continued to run a soothing servo over the small head as it turned to look at him sideways with tired, underpowered optics, deep pain evident in the stiff posture and tense expression.
"This is a by-product of what the 'Cons did to you… it's been so long since I was involved in any cases like yours, I forgot that… Bumblebee, every time they… overloaded… they sent negatively charged energy into your frame, and once your system reaches it's limit, your spark absorbs any excess. It later expels that energy when it has sufficient means to do so… I am so so sorry I didn't remember, but you'll have to brace yourself, your spark is going to keep hurting as it discharges as much negative energy as it can now your tank is full, and once that happens you'll purge your tank completely."
Bumblebee's shuddering returned and increased during Ratchets explanation, and by the end of it he was shaking his helm.
"N-no, I don't want anymore- hnnnn"
And just like that he was writhing again, arching against Prowl with a static laced whimper as his spark started another wave of negative energy displacement.
"It's alright, we're going to stay with you, you'll get through this, you will…"
Prowl said the only things he could think of, holding the twitching, writhing frame as the scout got progressively worse, crying out when it became too much and collapsing in clicking sobs as the energy fluctuation passed.
It wasn't long before Bumblebee turned off his own vocaliser to prevent further damage to it, but it distressed Ratchet and Prowl all the same when he would tense in silent screams of agony.
"Are you sure there's nothing you can do to help him?" The black and gold mech sounded utterly desperate, and it only made the medic's spark ache more to give him his answer.
"There's nothing I can do, we can only try to help him ride it out. Even when a mech's spark is undamaged it's too dangerous to try and siphon the negative charge without unbalancing the basic spark structure. It has to do it on it's own, and there's no pain relief for it. THIS is the reason why so many violated bots terminate themselves… after their ordeal they just can't handle the spark purges if they don't have anybody close enough to help them deal with it mentally or physically."
"Purges? Ratchet are you telling me this is going to happen more than once?" The ninja-bot sounded horrified despite himself and in his arms Bumblebee shook his head and clicked again before arching and quivering from another negative discharge.
The red and white medic, looking stricken and still trying to comfort Bumblebee physically the only way he could, met the sleek mech's gaze. "In cases where the mech was… was violated several times in a short period there's only been one to three purges, each shorter than the last… but I've never seen a case as severe as Bumblebee's, I don't know how many times it might happen."
It took two long, agonising hours for Bumblebee's spark to go through his full tank of energon.
The sub-compact had been writhing and spasming the whole time, utterly exhausted by the end but completely unprepared for the result of the agony.
Ratchet had had the foresight to find a large, empty oil drum for when it happened.
"Right, Prowl, quick, help him lean over…. That's it, hold him, careful…"
Bumblebee had given a particularly violent shudder, and the moment Prowl helped him to lean to the side and Ratchet placed the oil barrel under his helm, he purged his tanks.
It was a particularly nasty purge, and Prowl had never seen anything like it… viscous, toxic looking dark blue liquid came up in wave after wave, and he couldn't believe Bumblebee even had the tanks to hold it all, it seemed like so much.
When at last it seemed it was all up, alarms began to go off on Ratchet's machinery again, warning of the sub-compacts empty tanks and urgent need for energon. His spark was close to going into serious distress but the medic had known what to expect and was quick to act.
He had Prowl lay Bumblebee down again and swiftly he re-attached the energon line to the direct tank feed as he had the first time.
Bumblebee's vital signs quickly stabilised again, leaving him looking completely drained and utterly exhausted.
"It's alright Bumblebee, I'm going to put you back in stasis so you can rest, you won't feel any pain for quite a while, it's alright…"
The sub-compact's optics brightened slightly and a look of panic stole over his features, his vocaliser crackling back online as he shook his helm weakly.
"N-no, don't… don't let me dream again I don't want to do it again, please Ratchet don't make me…"
The Red and white bot was quick to sooth him with a gentle servo over his helm once more.
"Hey, hey, it's alright, you won't dream this time, I'm so sorry I didn't account for that… I'm adding the codes to stop it, it's ok, you won't dream again, I promise. It'll be alright Bumblebee, it will. You can rest now."
Either because Ratchet had allayed his fears or he just didn't have the energy to keep fighting, Bumblebee relented and collapsed against the berth, letting the stasis codes wash over him.
There was silence in the room once more, broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors and the tap of Ratchet's digits on his keyboard as he added the necessary changes to the program keeping the scout in stasis.
"I thought you said you made that thing so he wouldn't have memory defrags?" Prowl spoke up softly, trying his best not to sound accusatory as he restrained himself from touching the offline mech, worried he might pull him out of the much needed recharge somehow.
Ratchet took a deep ventilation and scrubbed at his tired faceplate with a servo, not quite facing the black and gold bot.
"I did. What I didn't account for was dreams. Fabrications. His processor is barred from reviewing the actual memories, but trauma that bad? He can't focus on anything else. His CPU substituted nightmares that probably involved a similar circumstance, but not with the same bots. I just added some lines of code that will make it much more similar to the kind of stasis we were all in when we first crashed here."
"So he won't really feel like he's been in stasis when he next comes to? Can he even online again on his own?" Prowl asked with a trace of worry in his vocals.
"No, he can come online on his own when his systems are ready, and he'll feel much more rested but no… he won't get a sense of time lapse."
There was silence again between them for a while, both knowing that despite it being about 4am human time they neither of them were going to get any more recharge for a while, not with their anxiety levels over the scout's condition so high. Ratchet had however finally answered Prime's worried comm. He hadn't liked leaving Optimus and the others edgy and without any idea what was going on in the locked med-bay, but Bumblebee was his priority right now.
The ninja-bot didn't seem to have lost any of his anxiety over the episode yet, and he'd been privy to all of it. And glancing at the pale blue visor, Ratchet would say the others probably had it better off not witnessing it.
"Ratchet… what is this going to do to his spark? I know you said it has to do it and that we can't help but… it's damaged. Are you sure more of these purges won't make it worse?"
The thought had niggled at the back of Prowl's processor for the better part of an hour as he simply sat and thought.
The medic was currently refreshing the pre-processed energon feeder running to the scout's tank port.
"From my readings, I'd say the negative energy displacement, while it's painful, isn't doing a lot of physical harm to the spark, even with the scarring. It does mean we have to be quick to secure the fresh energy feed after he brings up all the negatised energon slag. That's the most crucial point where things could go wrong. The purges might feel bad but they'll do his spark good once he's through them, that energy is part of the reason his spark is weaker and unstable."
"And mentally?" Prowl's tone was soft, but the heaviness of his words was tangible.
Ratchet swallowed to try and lubricate his dry intake as he fixed the micro-fibre sheet over Bumblebee's recharging form again.
"That's anyone's guess. Sparks might be more of a mystery than processors, but even knowing the pattern of reactions he's going to go through, I can't tell you that I know for sure he'll take this well. Especially since I can't say just how many purges it's going to take."
"So… that stuff he brought up… what was that?"
Ratchet had moved the barrel that contained Bumblebee's purgings into a corner and stuck a lid on it. He grimaced at the mention of it. "That is what energon looks like when the purest energy is burnt out of it's remaining composition is completely negatively charged. It's toxic, I'll have to specially treat it to even dispose of it. The process a cybertronian body goes through to even produce something like that is hard on a tank. His systems have to initiate a loop mechanism to feed energon past the spark and back into the main tank rather than just straight to the spark for pure energy burn. His tank is probably going to need replacing by the end of this, but I've already got that component, and at least that's a routine sort of job, it should be quick."
"What about the surface sensor damage? Can you fix that while he's offline? It's just that… I noticed he was curling in on himself because of the spark purge, but then it just hurt him more because of the plating damage to his midriff." Prowl's faceplate was pleading. Ratchet knew how hard it was for him… to be holding someone as they went through all that agony for the first time. As a medic, it had been one of the hardest experiences for him when he'd been younger. He hated shaking his head at the question, bitter at the answer he had to give.
"I can't. That's as much protoform plating damage as sensor and outer armour. I take that away and he'll be both far too exposed and still in pain, the injuries are so extensive and wide-spread. We'll have to wait for the team with supplies from cyber Ron to arrive, they have the new protoform alloys I need to fix it, and that can only be done once his sensor net has a chance to repair the micro-circuit damage. It's… Primus, I know it's a big job, but every time I think about all the separate details it does my processor in…"
Ratchet placed his palms on the berth edge and hung his helm, sighing through his vents.
"Do you know how much longer they'll be?" the black and gold mech asked quietly.
The medic was glad to be able to nod at the question.
"About two or three earth days now depending on the galactic conditions. Trust me, it might be a huge job, but I can't wait to be able to start. I don't want to see him like this anymore… more than anything I never wanted to see a mech like I did in the wars once they were over. The sooner he has a body not causing him pain, the sooner he can try to heal the things I can't physically fix."
The second huge ship to arrive on earth was not quite as big as the one Sentinel Prime insisted on landing in the park every time he came, but it was still a bit of a tight fit to get in next to the elite guard cruiser without hitting any human dwellings.
"See that? Now THAT's flying for ya. I'd like to see Commander Springer try that."
Wheeljack's helm panels flashed dully as he rolled his optics, Perceptor not showing even an iota of irritation despite the fact Rodimus Prime had not ceased his litanies of grandeur for most of the journey. He was a good kid, Wheeljack thought, but seriously over-confident, and far too quick to take huge risks. He'd just been lucky so far that none of them had ended in catastrophic disaster. His last run in with the 'Cons of course didn't count. He'd just been doing his job, and valiantly at that, his whole team had been specially commended despite their painful defeat.
But again, luck had been with the flame coloured mech and his team. The same could not be said of the bot they had come to help.
"Come on ya Hot Rod, we got work to do, you're gonna hafta help haul supplies. Ratch' sent me a map to their base from here, it's about a breem's drive away, and we got plenty of stuff to move."
The Prime wilted slightly as he stood from the pilots seat and stretched out the kinks in his joints. He made no complaints however. In fact he'd been exceptionally compliant with any and all tasks relating to their mission of getting supplies to earth to repair the scout. The engineer knew he was quite keen to meet the small mech and shook his head to himself as he walked towards the cargo bay with Perceptor keeping pace. It had become clear to him that Rodimus had no real idea what he would be seeing when they arrived. He had been briefed on the events, but none of the extensive damage. All he'd seen were the vid files and a few injury shots. The sheer magnitude hadn't really been presented to him, or the three other bots that had been assigned to the trip.
Wheeljack had a feeling it would turn into a very sobering experience for all of them.
Except perhaps Perceptor… he was hardly ever anything but sober.
Once every team member had taken their share of the supply load, Rodimus and Wheeljack lead the way to the base of the earthbound team of Autobots.
The Prime and his subordinate Hot-Shot were busy talking about how insane the organic planet was, while the two toughliners taking up the rear talked quietly between themselves. Perceptor, not having a vehicular alt. mode, was riding in Wheeljack's cab. His share of the load being most of the tools, he was able to carry it all in his sub-space.
The Engineer was glad he had also downloaded an info packet thoughtfully sent by the earth medic regarding local road laws. More than once, he had to bark instructions to Rodimus, who had either not bothered to download the same packet, or just didn't care. More than once, he heard an annoyed huff from Sunstreaker or Sideswipe when they came to a stop for, what was to them, no apparent reason. But nevertheless, they all managed to get through the human settlement without any major incidents (he didn't suppose the beeping sounds from the various local drivers counted as major, but there had been at least ten of those… maybe there was some audio signal thing used on earth Ratchet had forgotten to include?).
When they rolled up to the base, it was not quite what they expected.
Typically a military outpost was a nice, clean, thick walled building with few windows.
The place they had arrived at was… well, if he could approximate it to anything, he would have to go with abandoned energon storage facility, but even they had less windows. All the same, there was a well used air about the place and clear repairs and improvements had been made on the original structure. And, he supposed, as he let Perceptor out of his cab to unload his cargo of materials, they weren't technically a military outpost. Just a repair crew that had found itself on the front line on a completely foreign world.
It was as Perceptor finished fishing stuff out of his back seats and Wheeljack transformed that Optimus Prime came out of the base to meet them.
His faceplate was schooled into a welcoming look, but it was easy to see the underlying stress and anxiety etched onto his faceplate and in his stance and optics.
"Perceptor, Wheeljack. Good to have you and your team on earth, and thanks for coming as fast as you could… if you need any help getting any of your gear into the base-"
He held out a servo and both scientists shook it, but Perceptor held up his servo to decline the Prime's offer for assistance.
"We'll be quite alright, thankyou. Just show us where to take it all and we'll get started right away."
The look that flickered over the Prime's faceplate did not bode well.
"Sure thing… I have to warn you though it's… not a good time, right now… something's going on, and I'm not sure if Ratchet can meet you straight away. You can comm. Him, he might let you both into the med-bay, but I'm… not entirely clear on what the situation is at the moment."
The Blue and Red mech explained as he led them inside, the others following silently and curiously with their loads.
Wheeljack was about to ask Optimus to explain what exactly the situation was when a sound answered for him. A distant, ragged scream echoed from deeper in the base and he felt a shiver run down his spinal strut.
Oh… something is not right…
The further the Prime led them into the base, the louder the cries were, until they stood outside the closed door of what was apparently their med-bay. The red and blue bot put a servo to his helm as he pinged the medic that their help had arrived. After a few nanokliks, the door slid open and Ratchet's tired, drawn faceplates appeared. He nodded to the scientists in way of a greeting.
"Come on in… the supplies aren't going to be needed yet, your team can leave them just outside there and go for a briefing with Jazz."
Wheeljack and Perceptor nodded, the former wincing as another weak cry rent the air and they heard a slight rattling sound. The rest of their team stopped trying to see past them into the medbay when Optimus gave them a disapproving frown and closed the door behind the two scientists.
The team had the grace to look sheepish as they deposited their loads against the wall, Hot Shot wincing as another scream came muffled from the room beside them.
Wheeljack had been correct in his assumption that something was not right.
He was momentarily stunned to stillness, helm panels alight, when he lay optics on the mech they had come to fix.
He was half visible, stripped down to his protoform, lower half obscured by a scrunched up thermal micro-fibre sheet, torso held loosely by another mech, larger, black and gold, sitting on the berth as the small, mangled frame jerked and quivered, keening in pain.
He thought he had prepared himself adequately for the sight of the damaged bot… but he had seriously not expected him to be in the midst of agony from his trauma. If he could find his vocaliser, he'd be asking why Ratchet wasn't… hadn't, done anything to stop the scout's pain, but the medic beat him to it.
"Spark purge. This is his second. The first brought him out of induced stasis before he was ready. This one started up not long after he finally come online on his own about half a cycle ago."
Perceptor nodded at the explanation, having suspected as much. His faceplate didn't really show it, but his dim optics were a testament to the emotional effect seeing the sub-compact was having on him. He too had thought himself adequately prepared… for the sight of an offline and damaged body awaiting their skills to repair it. He'd forgotten about spark purges. It had been a very, very long time since he'd dealt with a case of serious violation causing negative energy build up in the victims spark.
It was horribly like revisiting the dark vorns of the great war.
He and Wheeljack tentatively approached the monitors as Ratchet went about setting up a fresh energon feed to administer the moment the purge was over. He spoke as he did.
"Perceptor, Wheeljack, this is Prowl. He's part of our team. He's also the mech who got Bumblebee out of his cell on the Decepticon ship."
The Black and Gold mech on the berth, holding the scout… Bumblebee, half in his lap, glanced up and caught Wheeljack's optics.
The Engineer's helm panels flashed a dull blue. The intensity of emotion within the mech's gaze only served to remind him of just how dire the situation they had walked into was.
Primus how he'd forgotten the worst of working as a temp medic in the war. It was never the injuries, it wasn't even always the injured mechs… it was seeing the pain it caused every bot that victim mattered to.
It had been… confusing at first, to online. He didn't feel like he'd even recharged since waking up from his nightmare, but he couldn't remember returning to it either. He also didn't feel as drowsy as he had before. He was, however, still in a fair amount of pain.
He vented hard when he onlined his optics and tried to move to get a handle of what had happened.
Moving was not a good idea, and he groaned, feeling a presence nearby and turning his helm to find Prowl looking at him with concern.
"Welcome back." The ninja bot said gently, trying to quirk a smile and utterly failing as he ran a gentle servo over the scout's own.
Bumblebee blinked. "Hey. Did I… I woke up… and…" The small mech frowned as his memory core booted up and quickly his cache resurfaced. The incident from the last time he had woken up came back in a flash… Ratchet HAD knocked him out again, after the… spark purge, he'd called it… so why didn't Bumblebee's processor feel like any time had passed when daylight was coming through the skylights.
Prowl seemed to read the scout's confusion and answered before he could even ask.
"When Ratchet put you back into stasis, he modified the code. It was similar to the cryo-stasis we were in when we crashed on earth, that's why it doesn't feel like you've lost any time."
Bumblebee felt slightly less anxious given that explanation. He realised he also felt slightly… better. Having caught up on so much lost recharge had certainly done… something for him, though he couldn't pinpoint what. He supposed it was a little easier to process clearly.
"How long was I out then… all up?"
Prowl sat on the side of the berth, servo still over the scouts, as though afraid to break contact.
"6 days. Ratchet says your self repairs are fully online again and the micro-circuit damage is starting to mend itself. The new parts and materials for your repairs are nearly here as well. Once Ratchet and his colleagues get to work you'll start feeling a lot better." Prowl finally managed the ghost of a smile as he fussed, straightened out the lines connecting Bumblebee to the monitors and medical grade energon.
"Did he… figure out how many of those purges he thinks I'm going to have?" Bumblebee tried to keep his voice from wavering, but the dread in his tone was obvious.
Prowl sighed softly through his vents, not able to look Bumblebee in the optic. "No…he said it would likely be 3 or 4, but until the mechs come with all the specialised equipment, he can't know for sure."
There was a soft whimper and Prowl squeezed the servo under his in a silent apology.
"I… hope that means I'm about to get halfway through it…"
Prowl's gaze snapped up to Bumblebee's faceplate to see the blue optics paling, a slight shiver running through the scout before he tensed. He snapped his head around to the monitors, and sure enough the one registering the sub-compact's spark pulse was showing signs of irregular spark activity.
"Oh Bumblebee, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"
Bumblebee didn't even give much thought to Prowl moving to hold him. By then the pain had started pulsing out from his chest to the rest of his frame and he turned off his vocal processor again.
Ratchet returned quickly once Prowl had comm.'d him, but by that time the small damaged mech wasn't even aware of when the energon line was detached from him again.
Spark purging, to Bumblebee, was like a Decepticon violating him from the inside… the deep, sick churning in his tank coupled with the spasming, stabbing pains in his spark, rolling into climaxes of agony again and again… more than once he half-regressed back into the memories, the only thing grounding him to reality being the feel of Prowl's soothing servos on his helm or arm or his voice reminding him that it would pass, he would get better, it would make him feel alright if he just got through it…
He arched, pain lancing across the mutilated sensor net under his ruined midriff plating, causing him to curl back in on himself until the next wave of excruciating torture attacked him from the inside.
It was worse than the first one… this time the mute setting on his vocaliser was destroyed after only two breems by the pain putting pressure on every standard program in his frame. He screamed and cried out uncontrollably, knowing he was re-wrecking his vocal unit and hating it even as Ratchet tried to reassure him that he'd fix it as many times as was necessary, and that he should scream all he needed to.
But Bumblebee didn't want to scream, he loathed hearing his own cries of pain now, he felt pathetic and used and useless… the feeling, through the haze of the purge, made him so disgusted with himself he couldn't even sob. And what was more his vocaliser now became another source of stinging pain to add to his agony.
He was barely coherent enough to register the arrival of two new mechs he'd never met. He also didn't really care, even though he knew what their arrival meant. It was just two more bots to witness his pathetic continued existence, and all he wanted was to curl up, fall offline and never wake up.
By the time the purge crescendoed with the evacuation of his tanks, he thought that might just happen. The horrible feeling of his spark suffocating gripped him as warnings of no energon and imminent spark shock flashed through his HUD, until Ratchet re-attached the energon line.
By that point, he was so exhausted he didn't even want to process the thought of talking to the new arrivals or having his repairs explained. He was grateful, at least, that they just allowed Prowl to sit with him, stroking his helm and lulling him into recharge again.
"Jazz, I need you to come with me and the Jet-twins, immediately."
The black and white ninja bot's helm snapped around, faceplate blank with surprise.
"What's up SP?"
The blue and orange Prime strolled into the plant's main room with his usual scowl of importance… which was a good sign, given it was his normal neutral expression.
Jazz had been sitting with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe explaining some basic earth culture, Rodimus and Hotshot having left with Bulkhead to be shown the patrol routes.
"Had Cybertron command on the line, our team has been called in to chase down the escaped convict Wasp. He was last spotted in the Gama section."
"Gamma section? But that's about as far from here as you can get without goin' to Cybertron, why do they need us? Don't they have retrieval teams for that?"
The look that passed over his commanders faceplate suggested he agreed with the cyber-ninja's thoughts.
"Apparently all their attempts have been unsuccessful, and given he's been classified a high risk prisoner, Ultra Magnus doesn't want to take chances, so he's sending in the best he's got, which is us. Come on, these mechs will cope fine on their own, they've got plenty of backup now."
With that the disgruntled Prime turned on his heel and walked out.
Jazz sighed, standing as well. He supposed, given the screaming in the med-bay had subsided about half a cycle ago, he could chance a quick word with Prowl before he left. He did not like having to break his promise to Optimus to stay until Bumblebee had truly begun to recover. Maybe if he made sure they caught Wasp fast he could get back here where he felt it more necessary to be.
"I'll catch you two cats later. No giving OP's team any grief ya hear? They got enough of that in spades right now."
Jazz was pleased to see the rare sincerity in the two Twin warriors optics as they nodded, and he headed towards the med-bay to make a quick farewell to Prowl.