Tunnels of Garbage

Another of a seeming endless string of day cycles passed spent wandering in the dump; yet, Bee felt a lightness in his step. He wished he could whistle while he scavenged, for this sure felt like a good time to whistle! A cheerful smile passed over his face as he spotted something that looked like titanium sticking up from the garbage.

Just knowing how pleased Droct would be over that valuable recyclable, Bee trotted over to it. As he curled his fingers around it, the sounds of commotion could be heard from the far side of the dump.

T'ran looked up, her sharp audios catching what was happening. Terror filled her optics, as she ran towards Bee.

At first he was confused as to why all of the garbage mechs seemed so panicked. Then the ominous low rumble of banking jets filled his audios. Turning around in shock, Bee spotted the Decepticon Seeker squadron speeding towards the dump for a little 'target practice'.

Unbelievably, terror locked his feet to the ground! All he could think and feel were those Decepticon circuits being thrust into his. Over-and-over, an endless invasion of hot red sparks. He couldn't move, he couldn't escape! Those lips taking his, biting his, making him bleed. Hands within him, pulling, twisting his insides until he blacked out! The cackling voices, telling him he was weak, pathetic.

He felt arms around him. They were going to take him away! Take him back to their ship! He'd be nothing more than a naked playtoy again! In panic, he fought as hard as he could. Yelling filled his audios, but he couldn't understand .. they were taking him.. he had to fight! Had to get away!

Something solid hit his helm hard; blackness engulfed the terror of his nightmare come true…

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He felt himself being dragged. Well, more like being 'stuffed'. He was in some kind of tight space, barely able to move. Someone was pulling him with a rope around his chest, while someone else seemed to be pushing him. It was pitch black, and the confinement and the terror of what he knew must be coming – caused him to panic!

Kicking as hard as he could, the terrified little mech tried to break free. But the space was too tight, he couldn't turn around! He finally managed to wiggle his arms up in front of his head, and he desperately tugged at the unseen rope. It seemed to wrap tighter around him as he struggled, adding to the frenzied mech's fears. So he began to slap at whoever was pulling him, even as he kicked the one behind him.

He heard mechs cursing, and then the one that had been pulling him managed to kick him hard in the helm. He went limp in unconsciousness.

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The fog began to clear, but only blackness met his optics. He trembled in terror, not knowing where he was – but certain that the Decepticons had him again. Trying to move, he realized he was tied up.

Then he froze again in panic as he realized that he lay against a mech, and they were running their fingers along his armor. His whole chassis went tense in anticipation of pain, of forced bonding. But still those fingers merely rubbed his armor, as if their owner was contemplating how they wanted to torture him.

"Shhhh, Yellow, don't move." Droct's voice whispered in his audios.

Calming down his panic, the little mech slowly relaxed, the tremors of fear slowed. He realized that those were Droct's fingers on him; it was Droct's chassis pressing into him. Turning his head towards where he thought Droct's was, he gave a brief shrug. He hoped Droct understood that he was asking why he was tied up.

He felt those familiar lips against his, as Droct gave him a comforting kiss. Then Bee felt a finger over his lips, the signal for silence. Wiggling out from under him, the garbage mech slid next to him in the tight dark space. Bee felt his lips near his audios.

"I'm sorry you got so scared, Yellow, are you Ok now?" that soft voice asked.

Bee nodded, knowing his friend could feel it. Fingers moved along his chassis, and he felt the cables loosen. As soon as his arms were free, Bee wrapped them around the distorted form of his friend. Burying his face into the unseen mech's chest armor, sobs of relief overcame him. He felt Droct's strong arms surround him, pulling him even tighter against him.

"I'm sorry they scared you like that, sometimes they use us for target practice," Droct whispered in his audio. "We're deep in tunnels that go under the dump; we'll have to stay here for a while, until their ship leaves."

Relaxing, Bee knew he was safe from the Decepticons' optics. Even as the garbage trembled around him from the blasts that the Seekers were firing, he was safe. He'd rather die in the arms of his friend within this dump – than ever be captured by the cons again.

Droct felt him relax against him. "I'm sorry T'ran had to hit you in the head like that. You just went nuts, and we had to get you to shut down," he whispered.

Bee nodded, he didn't blame them for what they had had to do. He had freaked, the trauma of his captivity having torn something within him. He wondered if he could even call himself an Autobot now, as terrified as he was by the mere sight of a Seeker? What would his fellow Autobots say? What could he do now within their ranks?

Tears streamed down his face, wetting Droct's chest. "Shhh, you'll be ok Yellow," Droct whispered as he stroked Bee's back.

Shuffling movement could be heard coming towards them. Bee sensed another mech chassis near them. He tensed with fear.

"How's Yellow doing?" T'ran's whispered words could be heard from somewhere beyond his helm.

"He's still really freaked, but he's untied now," Droct whispered back.

"I've never seen a mech black out in terror like that, it ain't normal," she commented softly. Bee could hear the concern in her voice.

"I know, neither have I."

"Do you think they were the ones who did it to him?" T'ran whispered.

Listening, Bee nodded against Droct's chest. They'd done it! Those terrible, evil Decepticreeps.. His chassis began to shudder with his silent sobs.

"Primus you poor thing," Droct whispered as he tightened his arms protectively around Bee.

Bee felt other hands stroking his helm, and he realized that T'ran was also trying to comfort him as best she could. He could sense her optics filled with pity as she touched his helm gently.

Breems passed as they stayed silent in the cramped tunnels deep inside the dump. Slowly, the sounds of conflict faded into the distance. But still the garbage mechs all hid in the tunnels, terrified to come out until the spotters saw the con ship leave.

"It could be a long time down here, Yellow," T'ran's voice whispered.

Bee nodded; her fingers able to feel his understanding.

"Let's go deeper, to the larger tunnels," Droct whispered.

So with T'ran leading the way and Bee crawling between them, they headed through the pitch blackness.

It seemed like an hour that they crawled like moles, but then the tightness of the tunnel seemed to lessen. Bee crawled into T'ran's aft as she stopped; backing up a little, he knew there was a blush on his face. But then he felt her fingers on one of his horns, pulling him towards her – even as Droct pushed him lightly from behind.

"We could be here for days, so Droct and I usually go deep in here, cram ourselves against each other and try to pass the time in defrag." Her whispered words told him.

"You get between us, where you'll feel safe," Droct's voice told him from behind.

Feeling along blindly with his hands, Bee crawled up next to her. Lying on his side, he crammed his backside into her, trying to make room for Droct who was making his way along them. Soon, the three of them laid together with their arms over one another. Although Bee was crammed in between the two siblings, he'd have had it no other way. Since the press of their familiar chassis filled him with a sense of safety and security.

T'ran rubbed her fingers along his side, "So it's really as bad as they say it is – to be tortured by them?" she asked Bee softly.

Bee nodded, his chassis shuddering at the mere mention of the torture that he'd endured.

Droct pressed his chest tighter against Bee's, his gentle fingers wiping the unseen tears from the yellow mech's face. "I once told you that were a tough little mech for surviving whatever happened to you." Droct stopped as he kissed Bee's lips. "If it was those mechs you survived, you're beyond just tough. And you remember that!" he whispered. Bee felt Droct's hand stroke his helm.

But he wasn't strong, he was weak! He had panicked! Shaking his head, he disagreed with Droct's praise.

"Shhh, it's just fresh in your mind Yellow. The terror will fade one day," Droct said.

He felt T'ran nod, her helm rubbing against the back of his. "Droct's right, you'll get over it – with time."

He snuggled tighter between the two, praying that they were right. For he was no use as an Autobot if he froze in terror at the mere sight of a Seeker in flight!

Snuggled tightly together, the three of them deactivated as they waited patiently for the danger above them – to pass.

---

"Shhhhh, it wasn't your fault," Ironhide whispered. He tightened his arms around the distraught mech, rocking him slightly.

"But.. But I should've warned him.. Stopped him…" the fire engine sobbed. Energon tears streamed down his once-strong face… All he could see was the bright young spark extinguished in the flames..

"He wouldn't have listened. He raced into action no matter what anyone would say." Ironhide rubbed one of his ladder rungs, hopeful that it was one of those spots that every mech had somewhere on their frame. One of the spots that if stimulated, would help to calm a mech down…

"I should've pulled him out… Saved him.. But I failed… I failed.." Inferno gasped for air in between his sobbing. No one had bothered to listen to him much. They just told him to get over it. All he wanted was to die. To join his young charge whom he had failed..

Ironhide tried this tact for several breems. But the darned fire engine just wouldn't listen to reason. He was so fixated on his perceived failure that nothing else could enter his meta. The van thought as he held the mech. Thought about what it had taken for him to get over his self-guilt. For him to realize that it was Decepticreeps at fault…

"I failed… I fail – Nggssstttt!" Suddenly Inferno's self pity was interrupted as he found himself flying across the small room. He hit the wall hard, clattering into a heap on the floor. Pain signals and alarms went off through his systems. His battle processor trying to initiate defensive actions… "Wh – what'd you do that for?" he gasped as he slowly picked himself off the floor. His optics locked onto the suddenly stern façade of the mech who'd just been consoling him.

Ironhide leapt up from the table and stomped up to the taller mech. "Because someone needs to knock some sense into you! It's not your fault – It's the Decepticons fault!" He got in the fire engine's face plate as he said that. Challenging the mech to deny the truth in it…

"No it's not! I could've warned him!" the taller mech shot back. He fell back against the wall, trying to avoid the intensity in Ironhide's optics. His optics again filled with self-pity, and he began to sob again. "Akkkk! Mftttt!" He was now flying the other way. Sliding on his face plate and smashing into his berth.

"Wrong answer Inferno. Blame the RIGHT freagers – or I'm going to keep this up!" Ironhide said as he stomped back up to the mech. To say this was an example of 'tough love' was an understatement. But heck, HE had to be raped and almost off-lined to get knocked out of it.. So if it took some physical pain to straighten this mech's mental pain out – then so be it..

"They were just being how they always are. Cliffjumper was MY charge! My responsibility! Akkkkk! OOOOUUUUUCH!" Inferno ended up sliding on his tail pipes and crashing into Ironhide's berth. He shakily got up, unsure as to WHY this mech was being so hard headed about it. It wasn't like HE was the one who'd lost his charge!

"Yah, he was your charge. But he took it on himself to charge into that situation. You couldn't stop him!" Ironhide countered. He reached out to grab the mech again, but this time Inferno snarled and jerked away.

"I SHOULD HAVE STOPPED HIM!!" Inferno screamed. His angst now turned into anger as he jerked away from the van. WHY wouldn't the mech just leave him be?!? He punched at him. "Leave me the frag alone!"

"No," Ironhide retorted as he ducked. He countered with a hard right hook that connected solidly with the fire engine's abdominal armor. "I ain't leavin' you alone until you see the TRUTH!" He hit the mech again. The crunch of metal against metal filling the small room…

"Ugggg! What the hell?!? Are you slaggin' glitched or something?!?" Inferno snarled. His abdomen hurt like Primus, but he was no mech's punching bag! He swung at the smaller mech, clocking him with a left hook.

Ironhide shook it off; he'd been hit far harder on the battlefield. After all, Ironhide wasn't his original designation. He'd earned the nickname by how thick his hide was! "You better hit harder than that. I feel like I'm fighting a femme," he snorted. He pounded another quick round of hard punches on the mech's chest armor.

"A femme!?!" the fire engine grunted in total disbelief. "I've rescued hundreds of soldiers from battlefield wreckage. And you call me a femme!?!" He came at the smaller mech, fists swinging.

The van grinned, dropping to the ground he kicked out a leg. Easily tangling the larger mech's legs and bringing him down with a crash. Grabbing the fire engine's arm, he twisted it behind his back and forced his face plate against the ground. "I finally see some spirit in you! Do you think you're the only one who's lost a youngster they were training? Do you think no one else has been where you've been? Your charge merely died in front of your optics. He died quick." Ironhide's voice became low. A terrible sadness filling it… "I had to watch as the cons kidnapped my charge. I live with the knowledge that he died slowly and painfully," he growled. With a huff, he let go of the mech. Striding to his berth, he went and slammed his tail pipes down on it.

Inferno stood up on shaky legs. His optics met Ironhide's. "You.. I'm sorry.. I didn't.. Know.." he stammered awkwardly.

"Yah, no biggie," Ironhide said dismissively. But he stood again, getting right back in Inferno's face, he started poking his finger into his chest plate. "It ain't neither of our faults. It's the Decepticreeps that did it! That always do it! I'm goin' to honor Bumblebee's memory by kicking every one of those slagger's afts!" He suddenly softened up and offered the mech his hand. "But I need a partner to do that."

Inferno looked down at the offered hand, then up in the mech's blue optics. "But I'm no soldier. And I thought you already had a partner? That prick cop car?"

The van shifted a bit. "Well, I, uh, kind've, um, .. Well, let's just say he's probably not exactly in the mood to see me right now.."

The fire engine narrowed his optics. "Why?"

Now Ironhide bit on his lower lip. He really didn't want to admit what he'd done to Prowl, but Inferno did deserve to know – didn't he? "I got mad at him for telling me to just move on. So, well, I, uh…"

So he'd felt the same way that he had? Inferno relaxed a bit. Glad he'd found a mech that understood what he was going through. But just what had the mech done to his partner? "You what?"

"I tried to give him a mouthful of liquid nitrogen. But I missed," Ironhide admitted.

Inferno couldn't help it. He began to chuckle. Began to laugh for the first time in almost a cycle! He pictured the prick diving for cover. And to be honest, it was a beautiful picture. "You did that to Prowl!?!" he gasped in between chuckles.

"Yep. Well, I tried to. He's a quick little slagger when he wants to be," Ironhide drawled. But Inferno's laughter was catchy. And soon, he found himself falling into snickers as well. It felt so good to finally be able to laugh… Finally…

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