A/N: Sorry for the long update. RL has been hell. But here's pt 1 of Insanity, Wasp's arrival into Fragile. Pretty much sticks to the episode, but next chapter will be slightly rewritten. So read, review, and enjoy.
I thank all of you for staying with me through all this craziness, angst, and sometimes fluff. 8D
EDIT: In response to an anonymous review whose name is not worth the time to recall, there is a reason things are written the way they are. For one, I explained already that I tried to stick close to the episode for this part so if you chose to read it and complain afterwards, then that's on you. Don't complain to me and if you don't like it, don't fucking review. For I use flames to warm my house at night.
For another, I took a vote with some of my close friends on DA, and the decision came down to Wasp not knowing that Bumblebee is carrying, and if you'd read the last chapter, you'd know why. I'm not going to waste anymore time than necessary explaining it. This is a rewrite and I'm sorry you don't like it, but that's your damn problem. If you can't leave something constructive without being a total ass, then don't bother because I'm not fazed by pissy little reviewers.
In short, KISS MY ASS. It's my story; I'll write it how I want it.
Thank you.
~Regretful
12. Insanity
The steady pattering of rain drumming down on the warehouse was almost enough to put one into stasis, and Bumblebee might have considered resting there on the couch if not for the occasional clap of thunder that seemed accompany every lightning flash. Sighing, he leaned on the couch arm, game controller in one servo as he waited for the game to load. In his processor, he went over where everyone was at. Prowl and Bulkhead were out patrolling, despite the awful weather. Sari was at home, staying dry, and Jazz had gone to meet with Sentinel at the Steelhaven's usual spot.
That left him, Prime, and Ratchet here at base though Optimus would be leaving soon to go join Prowl and Bulkhead. Ratchet was in his medbay, trying to find a way to counter the faulty signals the weather caused. The heavy pouring rain often interferred with their monitor and camera signals and caused several to show nothing but static for more than a megacycle. Truth be told, Bumblebee was supposed to be watching them, but he figured he wouldn't get in too much trouble for ignoring them, given his condition.
As if on cue, there was a rather persistent tug on his spark. One servo absently covering his chassis, Bumblebee sent out a calming pulse to his sparkling. The little one was usually quiet, tugging on his spark only when it wanted some attention from its creators. If Bumblebee was counting his days right, he was almost two weeks along, and he still had another two weeks of purging his tanks in the morning to go.
With a laugh, he remembered this morning, onlining quite suddenly with an overwhelming need to purge. Unfortunately, he normally recharged on the side of the berth closest to wall since Prowl usually got up before him. He had tried to scramble over the recharging Prowl with no luck and had ended up startling the older mech online. In the end, Bumblebee had been sprawled across Prowl's lap, the cyberninja holding him steady and rubbing his back while he purged his tanks over the side of the berth. They decided it would be best if they switched positions.
His game loaded, the yellow mech began mashing buttons to knock out his opponent out. He won three rounds and was just finishing a fourth when his line of sight was blocked by a blue aft and red backstrut.
"Hey!" Bumblebee shouted indignantly. Prime turned to give him a slightly disapproving frown.
"When I said 'watch the monitors', I didn't mean this one." Bumblebee crossed his arms and threw the monitors a sidelong glance, noticing one glitch with static for a nanosec or two before clearing up.
"Can't see a thing on 'em anyway." Prime cycled a sigh, pinching his nasal ridge.
"Bumblebee, I'm not going to get on to you too much, otherwise Prowl would have my aft, but you're the one who said you didn't want to be completely useless just because you're carrying. Monitor duty is the only task Ratchet will allow you to do." Bumblebee vented a hopeless sigh. Even though the young leader was right, monitor duty had never been the scout's favorite activity. Now that it was all he was limited to, it was even less appealing.
Seeing that younger mech still wasn't convinced, Prime tried something else, "It's either that or you can rest and recharge on your berth like Prowl wants you to." The yellow bot nearly bolted for the monitor console at Optimus's suggestion. Prowl had become quite the concerned mate, coming close to a spark attack if Bumblebee even so much as flinched in discomfort. The cyberninja was adamant that he stay in their berth as much as possible and get him anything he needed. While the idea of Prowl waiting on him hand and foot was touching in its own way, there was no way in Pit Bumblebee was going to let himself become invalid.
One of the monitors suddenly lit up red, Cybertronian glyphs flashing up the screen in an urgent manner. This caught the attention of both mechs who went to check it out. Optimus read the information carefully while Bumblebee shifted from pede to pede nervously, trying to keep from covering his chassis. He hated how anxious he was, but he was partly worried that the warning was for Wasp.
"Is it Decepticons?" He asked his leader, watching as Prime vented a frustrated sigh as the monitors glitched yet again.
"It's definitely Cybertronian, but the rain is disrupting the signal.I'm going to join Prowl and Bulkhead on patrol. Ratchet's in his medbay if you need him. Watch the monitors." That said, Optimus shifted to his vehicle mode and drove out into the pouring rain. Bumblebee sighed, looking at the monitors and watching as one glitched and cleared only for another to do the same. Smirking, he looked back over at his game.
"He didn't say which monitor." Eagerly, he returned to his game, starting another round that he knew he would win in a matter of minutes. If Optimus happened to come back and find him playing rather than doing his job, he could always use the excuse of it being a make-up for combat training since he could longer do that anymore either.
A little over a breem passed. In that time, the yellow scout had won at least five more matches, working on a sixth with an eagerness that only gamers knew of. The simulated punches of the virtual fighters and continuous clack of the controller buttons being pressed filled the room. 'Alright, a few more hits to go.' The determined thought fueled him onward, avoiding the blows the computerized opponent threw at him. The match was nearly over when a flash of lightning cut across the sky, the power to the warehouse shutting off as a powerline was struck. With the lights going down, Bumblebee was plunged into semi-darkness, his optics and what could be seen of the moon providing the only light.
Slightly panicked, Bumblebee shouted the first thing that came to mind, "I wasn't playing video games. I swear. Just turn the lights back on." As if it could hear, the back-up generator kicked on, the warehouse emergency lights bathing everything a blood-red hue. While the lights came on, a high-pitched whine filled his audios.
"Buuuuuummmmbbllleee-boooooottt..." It was faint, an echo if nothing else, but he still heard it. He jumped to his pedes, one servo automatically covering his chassis as he looked frantically around for whoever had spoken.
"Who's there?" The slight screech to his tone proved how anxious Bumblebee was. He couldn't understand why Ratchet hadn't come to check on him yet what the power going down, but it wasn't his main concern right now. He didn't know what to expect so he merely began backing off from the TV towards the monitors. He contemplated running out into the rain just to get away from whatever had spoken.
Just as he was making up his mind, he turned around...Only to be met by a very familiar and dreaded faceplate as the lightning flashed yet again. He reeled back in surprise, "Wasp?" It took all he had not to cover his chassis lest he give away his secret to last mech he wanted to know about it, "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"Oh, not much. Just seeking revenge on the bot who ruined Wasp's life!" A high-pitched shriek. Wasp's vocals had changed to match his insanity. During his speech, he'd moved towards Bumblebee who'd stepped back. He didn't want the maniac anywhere near him. Trying to control his growing fear, Bumblebee faked a laugh and held up his servos.
"Oh, about that," He waved one hand down and then both returned to his side. He was going to try and talk his way out of this. At least until Ratchet came out of his medbay and could help him, "Ha. Funny story. Turns out it was a big misunderstanding. Longarm set me up, er, set you up. Actually set us up," Both clenched servos came up to his chassis as he said the next sentence, not entirely able to fend off that instinct to protect his sparkling but made sure to make it seem as though he were still pleaing for mercy (and in a way, he was), "We're both just victims here, right?"
Wasp only stared at him, faceplates expressionless but violet optics shining with that same desire for revenge. There was no way Bumblebee was going to get out of this. He had to run and hope to Primus he managed to escape.
Turning on his heel, Bumblebee bolted, activating his comm. link for the first bot he could think of, the one he wished was here right now.
"Prowl, come in! I need help. Wasp is here in the plant," As he sent his distress call, the yellow mech tried to vault over the couch. A blast of electricity hit him square in the back, and he fell over the back of the stone funiture, turning to hit his shoulder against the concrete. His helm smacked against the floor, disrupting both his comm. link and equilibrium circuits, knocking him temporarily offline. He could still hear Wasp, the green mech's pede-falls heading his direction. When Bumblebee finally came online, his optics unshuttering, the insane bot was crouching over him, straddling his hip.
"Wasp and Bumble-bot a lot alike...but one innocent, the other guilty. Can Bumble-bot guess which?" Bumblebee could definitely guess where Wasp's raving was taking him, and he didn't like the implication he held for him. Hesitantly, he turned his faceplates to stare at the former Autobot.
"Neither...?" Bumblebee offered weakly, internally wincing as Wasp's accusing stare hardened.
"Wasp waste stellar cycles in stockades, lose all Wasp's friends, and never be an Elite guard!" He reached into his sub-space, pulling out a blaster of some sort and a container of neon green liquid, sending a wave of fear throughout Bumblebee's frame. He felt a pull on his spark, but he couldn't tell if it was the sparkling or Prowl trying to reach him over his own fear.
As Wasp resumed speaking, he was setting up the blaster for whatever its purpose was, "Bumble-bot know what it like to lose everything and have every bot turn on Bumble-bot?" Bumblebee could almost sympathize with the first part of the question, the loss of his first sparkling having felt like losing his own spark, but how could he tell Wasp that? He didn't want to endanger this one after all the hell he and Prowl had gone through.
Not waiting to see if Bumblebee would answer his question or not, Wasp reached up to his own helm, hooking his digits just underneath the edges and pulled it off, revealing his bare protoform cranium. Bumblebee couldn't help the horrified gasp, Wasp's plan dawning in his processor. The barrel of the gun was suddenly right in his vision.
"Bumble-bot will..." The gun fired and blackness descended on him.
88888
He was sluggish to come back online, not sure where he was, but the first thing he made sure to do was check on his sparkling. Bumblebee was relieved to find that it was alright. As his optics unshuttered part-way, providing him with a hazy vision of the bots standing around him, he heard Bulkhead speak up first.
"Is he alright?"
"Look. He's coming back online." That was Ratchet. Maybe the medic had come in before Wasp could do anything more than knock him out. The medbay was brightly lit, and he remembered that Ratchet ran it off a seperate generator from the warehouse's main power for just such occasions as a black out. Perhaps the noise had drawn him from his work or he'd come to check on him to find what was going on.
Suddenly, he heard his own voice and what must have been a clone enter his clearing vision, "Wasp put up fight, but Bumble-bot way tougher." Over his bond, he heard Prowl give him a warning about getting into fights while carrying, but he didn't blame him since Wasp had shown up when they least expected it. He sent a reassuring pulse without thinking about it.
'Wasp' sat up on the berth, holding his helm where it had met the concrete earlier. After allowing the minor ache to settle, he looked forward into his own face, seeing a reflection of himself in the battle-mask. Only it wasn't him. He looked like Wasp, his helm switched out for the maniac's own. Dumbfounded, he pointed at the now 'yellow' mech.
"That's not me!" Even his vocals sounded like Wasp's, but he didn't have the time to figure out how he'd managed that, "Wasp took my body. I'm really Bumblebee." Not a mech believed him. He could tell from their stares. He tried to reach out to Prowl through their bond, but the cyberninja's gaze flickered over to 'Bumblebee' with concern, but he didn't try to reach out for him. He was keeping to the original agreement not to let Wasp know about the sparkling.
"Same crazy Wasp, but he's way uglier than I remember," Bulkhead said, his servos coming up to restrain him.
"Wasp not that ugly." The mech now known as Bumblebee commented, sounding almost put out. Both Ratchet and Prowl turned to stare at him. For a moment, the real scout allowed himself to believe that they'd see right through the charade.
"Why does your voice sound like it's got a bug in it?"
"And why is your mask down?" 'Come on, Prowl. Look at the optics. That's not me.' Bumblebee thought desperately, hoping to Primus they'd notice. Optimus and Bulkhead both threw the imation scout a dubious look, also wondering why he was keeping his face hidden. The yellow bot made a show of feeling his battle mask, as if he didn't know it had been activated, before trying to come up with an excuse, his servos resting on his helm.
"My mask is...jammed. Must be a computer glitch with...rain," It was a weak excuse, but before the others could commet on it, he was pointing at the mech on the berth, trying to direct the attention back to him, "Traitor! Throw him the stockade!"
"Hold your horsepower, Bumblebee. I thought he was innocent," Optimus stated, trying to figure why the youngest member of his team seemed to have forgotten that Longarm was the real traitor to the Autobot cause.
"Does he look innocent?" Bumblebee, the real Bumblebee, couldn't take it anymore.
"He's a fake!" He cried desperately, wanting nothing more than to rip that insane mech apart, "He switched our paintjobs! And helmets!" They all shook their helms. "And voice...synthesizers..." Another collective shake of nonbelief. Of course they wouldn't believe him. He looked like Wasp, sounded like Wasp, and at this point, was probably going to end up like Wasp, in the stockade. He shuddered at the thought of his sparkling being born in a place like that, far away from home and its father.
"Poor Wasp," The fake began again, "All those stellar cycles in the stockade must have scrambled his circuits. He's clearly a danger to himself and all those around him." The gathered bots all exchanged looks, and Bumblebee was losing hope. Why couldn't they see through the illusion? He would never talk like that. What was going to happen now? What could he do to get out of it?
Siding with the fake scout, Ratchet held up a pair of stassis cuffs, ready to throw him in their makeshift prison until the Elite Guard showed up. Panicking in Bulkhead's grip, Bumblebee thrashed around, shouting at his team-mates that he was who he said was, unconsciously activating his stinger and firing. The cuffs in Ratchet's servo fell apart as the electric blast hit them. He then went for the lights plunging them into darkness and finally breaking free of Bulkhead's grip.
The next thing he knew he was racing out of the base, taking a sharp left out the main entrance and disappearing into Detriot. He wasn't sure how he was going to prove that he was Bumblebee, but it wasn't his main concern right now. He had to find somewhere to hide, to keep the sparkling safe until he could manage to get out of this mess Wasp had thrown him into and hoped that it wouldn't take too long. Until then, he could only run.
