Uuuugh.
UUUUGH.
My life is kinda shitty atm. Stress and fluctuating circumstances have slowed my writing progress right down, but this has been sitting complete and waiting for many months.
I had a lot of internal debate over whether or not to add the next bit of plot point to the end of this or push it into the next chapter, but I ended up not doing that. I needed the time to figure out whether or not I should, hence the super long wait, sorry about that.
In the end I kept it how it was because I REALLY liked where I ended this chap, and I think you will too.
But yes, we are drawing to the close, because I have like, one more giant chapter of story, and then the epiloge, and the next chapter already has about 7000 words done, it's just that having a non-receptionist job is giving me very little personal time, and alongside another fucking stage show which I've been forced into because I can't leave home, yeah. Writing is not something I get a lot of time to do currently. Oh yeah not to mention I have to try and have the book illustration project done by the end of the month. Ha. Haha. FML.
So I managed to re-read this during rehearsals today (fucking 6 hours of rehearsals I was not expecting so fucking pissed off) and decided it really is as ready as it's ever going to be.
Lots of tenderness in this one, you know me, fuckin softly for robot tenderness. Lil bit of fluff on the side. All 'round more of a feel-good chapter, though it still has angst, because y'know. Bee's not magically getting better, this whole fic is about how that DOESN'T happen when you suffer major trauma. But still, this is the redeemer, you should enjoy this one.
Aight peace i gotta go to bed, I have work in the morning, gotta be up in 6 hours T.T Please leave me something to read while I'm at work to make my data-entry job less painfully mind-numbing. My god is it ever, three more weeks of this assignment and then I'm back to wondering when the fuck my next paying job will be, hooraaaay :/
*P.S IN THE LAST BIT OF THE CHAP THE THEME MUSIC IS 'LEAVE A LIGHT ON' FROM THE COLDPLAY ALBUM 'GHOST STORIES'.
~Death out
An icy wind swayed the higher branches of the tree, sliding over black and yellow plating. Bumblebee ignored it. His temperature regulators countered the chill without a problem now.
He thought about that for a moment, knowing the temperature drop heralded the real beginning of Autumn. Relentless rain had kicked it off, but it was a month into the season before it truly started to get cold.
The leaves on Prowl's tree had begun to change a while ago, not that Bumblebee had thought much of it.
Now however, it was to his advantage. So much of the canopy was a golden-yellow that it made it easier for him to camouflage himself sitting up there.
The chill in the air reminded him acutely of the cold he'd carried in his spark long after he'd been rescued. He shuddered, forcing memories of the cell from his mind. They were all too fresh now that he went back to that place in his mind when he recharged.
The waking world had become his sanctuary, and he clung to the knowledge that at least, at the VERY least, he wouldn't have to go through another purge.
If not for the failing of the processor blocks, he'd probably feel light and relieved from the final expulsion of Decepticon energy from his spark.
But he wasn't feeling relieved at all. He felt hollow, tired and weak. As happy as he was that a huge part of his ordeal was over, it was ruined by the weight of the new one looming over him.
He had to go to Cybertron to undergo therapy with a bot he didn't know. Which meant he'd have to face in his waking sanctuary the horrors that forced themselves on him in his stasis.
The scout wasn't looking forward to that at all, despite Wheeljack's promises that this… Ring? Rang? Rung! Rung, that was it, the promises that this RUNG character was a good bot who'd be able to help him better than they could.
Bumblebee felt that what would REALLY help would be the other bots who'd caused him grief just going back to their lives, and leave him to try and go back to how things were. That and processor blocks that worked. That would be great.
Just thinking about what had happened a day ago with Sentinel had him cringing internally. He was ashamed of the things he'd said, and of losing control. Even if Sentinel had deserved that punch, he hadn't really thrown it on purpose.
Just like he'd snapped with Sunstreaker, he'd done it again. But this time, his antagoniser had MEANT every word he'd said.
And Bumblebee couldn't deny he'd meant every one of the things he'd said too. He wasn't ashamed because he didn't believe any of it, he was ashamed because now everyone knew what he thought, and they probably had an even worse view of him than they must have had before.
The scout felt his spark shrivel with embarrassment in his chestplates. What kind of a picture did those other bots have of him now? Half of them should have known better after chasing him around, sure, but the other half were there to help.
He must seem so ungrateful. They must be wondering why they were even there. If he didn't even think he was worth it, why should they?
The slagging Elite Guard had offered him a place and he'd pretty much thrown that back in the face of all of the guardsmechs there.
Bumblebee leant back against the trunk of the tree and tried to calm his vents and rumbling engine. He'd be found up here if he wasn't careful. And the last thing he wanted right now was company.
He couldn't afford to keep losing control. He couldn't be around others if that was what he was going to do every time someone pointed out all the ways he needed to stop being pathetic.
Bumblebee felt he should have known that solitude was wishful thinking after the kind of display he'd given. When he'd woken from fitful memory recall again, it was not in the same sudden manner as the previous night.
The scout supposed it had something to do with how exhausted he was, as well as being put down with a full EMP. The fact Ratchet could now GIVE him one of those should be encouraging, but it was cold comfort.
Prowl had been offline beside him in a chair, Bulkhead offline on the berth in the corner. The green mech probably hadn't been willing to leave his side, and his embarrassment and guilt intensified.
Why his friend had put himself through watching the most violent purge he'd had since his first he didn't know. He wasn't sure if he'd heard or imagined Bulkhead sobbing from the shock and horror of holding him through it.
Bumblebee wished he hadn't, whether his memory was playing tricks on him about the details or not. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for the show of support, but transferring his pain to his friends didn't make him feel any better, just worse.
Bulkhead didn't need to see it. Didn't need to feel him writhing or hear him screaming and pleading for the assailants in his memories to stop.
Now that's what he'd see when he looked at him. Not what he used to be, what he was now. He'd only see the broken parts of him.
It was hard to put himself back together when no-one seemed to remember what he was when he was whole… himself especially. It wasn't that he wanted to be the same irritating jerk he knew he was before, he just wanted… he wanted to not be afraid. He wanted to be in control of his thoughts and emotions, and he couldn't remember what that was like anymore.
It felt as if it was slipping away, and if he took too long to get back to himself, who he was before would fade away forever. What if he ended up staying like this, all weak and dysfunctional and glitched?
And how was this professional on Cybertron supposed to help when the bot had never met him before? They couldn't get him back to normal, they didn't know what he used to be like. The good parts of him, the parts bots actually liked. Parts HE liked. It felt as if they weren't even there to be salvaged anymore.
The scout huffed a sigh and curled a little tighter on his perch, the wind picking up and taking some of the leaves he was using as cover with it.
Do I really WANT to be the same as I was though? I was only happy and cocky because I was ignorant. I didn't know that this could happen and I never thought about it. Now ALL I can do is think about it. How can I be happy when I'm constantly afraid of it happening again?
Bumblebee was on the brink of spiralling into another black hole of thought when something distracted him.
"That's a pretty effective cover you've found yourself there."
The scout jumped, nearly falling off the branch when Jazz's voice breezed over him from only two or three meters away.
"Fragginsonova- do you HAVE to sneak up on me? I'm aware you're a ninja, I get it, you're sneaky, you CAN turn it OFF though y'know" he snapped, clutching at the branch he was on and looking around before spotting the black and white bot on the roof.
Jazz flashed him an apologetic look through the canopy and lithely made his way off the corrugated iron and onto a branch strong enough to support him, just a little lower down than Bumblebee's.
"Sorry Bee, force o' habit. Forget I got it turned on half the time."
"Was there something you wanted?" Bumblebee asked guardedly. He didn't want to be goaded into another shouting match or be coaxed into lashing out. His control was no better now than it was a day ago. Slag, it was probably worse.
The guardsmech's friendly smile softened to something more reserved, his body language shifting to be as un-confrontational as possible, and Bumblebee relaxed slightly without even realising it.
"Actually I just thought I'd come lookin' cause Wheeljack arrived with somethin' for ya. He said it can wait, but I thought you'd wanna know anyway. Figured you'd know what it was n' everything".
Bumblebee's demeanour shifted from defensive to surprised. Already? Wow, Wheeljack didn't waste time. He also had a really good memory apparently, because Bumblebee himself hadn't remembered they'd agreed to do his last repairs after the purge until now.
To be fair, several things had come up since then to distract him.
The scout realised Jazz was looking at him as if expecting an answer and he cleared his vocaliser a little awkwardly.
"Uh… thanks."
"No problem."
There was a brief silence between them as Jazz looked around at the canopy, as if deciding whether he should settle down and enjoy the atmosphere.
Bumblebee frowned slightly. "Did you want to tell me anything else?"
The light blue visor lazily came back around to look at him. "Hmm? Oh… yeah. You're wrong."
Bumblebee blinked a few times. Then he mentally groaned. This again? Really? Frag this, I'm not sticking around to be slagged on-
"You're not useless."
The soft tone stopped Bumblebee halfway through unfurling to drop down from his perch and he stared at Jazz, confused.
The other bot's gaze remained on him, steady and without judgement.
"Sentinel was wrong. In every way. You're not useless, and the last thing you need is lugheads like him an' Sunny telling you that y'ain't worth the effort we went to. You're not worthless, and you sure as slag don't deserve the grief they gave you."
The softly spoken words had him tensed and frozen to the spot. His spark was fluttering and aching in his chestplates as emotion flared through it unchecked.
It was a few moments before he felt able to get words out of his tightened vocaliser.
"You don't know me."
There was no anger in his tone. He barely murmured the words, and he was trying to force himself once again to leave when Jazz kept talking, and those gentle, resonant tones kept him rooted to the spot.
"I don't need to mech. It ain't hard to see you're a good bot, ah mean c'mon, only a fool would miss it. I know what Prowl's told me, and he's told me an awful lot about'cha. If you trust nothin' and no one else that tells you that you have worth, then trust his feelings. He has good reasons to love you, and most of it seems to hinge on the fact he thinks you're amazin'. Pit, I think you're amazin'. But I know it's hard for you to see what he sees when you're feelin' this low."
Bumblebee clenched his denta and let out a shaky ex-vent, trying to make sense of why Jazz had decided to try and make him feel better. Maybe it was his way of apologising for being part of the chase? For not stepping in when Prowl and Bulkhead had been fighting the Jet Twins to keep him from them?
His doubt and confusion must have shown on his faceplate, because Jazz gave him a sad sort of smile and a soft, patient sigh. "I know you think there's an agenda here, but honestly there ain't. Not unless trying to fix Sentinel's dumb-aft mistakes counts as an agenda but honestly, it's more like my job description at this point."
Bumblebee shifted to settle properly on his perch again, giving Jazz a more calculated look. The humour certainly made the exchange feel less awkward, not that he felt like laughing.
"Are 'pep talks' another part of your job description?"
Jazz shrugged and gave him a slightly bigger grin for having gotten a response out of him.
"Kinda. I know you wanna be alone, and I don't mean to stay and get all up in your face, but I thought you needed to hear that. What you're goin' through, it messes with ya head. Makes you believe things about yourself that ain't true. Bots have to remind you what is true. You're valued. You're capable. You might not feel like it right now, but all you gotta know is that you are loved by these bots, and you are not worthless."
Bumblebee looked into that visor as if to spot the lie, but when he didn't find anything other than gentle sincerity, he looked away.
"I… you're right, I don't feel that way. But… I know you're right about them. I know they love me, I just don't feel like they should. I don't feel like I'm worth the amount of pain and grief I've caused them. And I don't think I'm an asset to them at all. I'm a liability, I've ALWAYS been a liability."
"Why do you think that? What did ya ever do before that was so bad you feel you don't deserve their love?" Jazz murmured softly. The question held no judgement, only a sad sort of curiosity.
Bumblebee cycled a deep vent, still not looking at the other mech as he slouched against the tree trunk, curling into himself a little on his perch.
"Can't fight for slag, acted like I could. Made stupid decisions they always had to save my aft from. Antagonised them all thinking it was funny. Went off half-cocked all the time, ran my mouth, shirked my duties, disobeyed orders... Honestly the only reason I think I wasn't kicked off the team was because Ultra Magnus wouldn't give Optimus anyone to replace me. Optimus got stuck with me and now look at the price he's paid for it. I'm now not only useless, but I'm a drain on resources and an unstable pain in the aft."
Jazz hadn't quite expected the bot to open up so freely, and by the look on the yellow mech's face, neither had he. The scout gave him a wary sidelong glance and curled into an even tighter ball.
"Sorry… I didn't mean to… can't help it, just running my mouth again." Bumblebee murmured, shame colouring his tone.
"Bot I knew you were in a dark place, but I didn't realise you were this far in. Y'gotta stop lettin' your processor run these lines of code, Optimus don't see you like that at ALL. I mean I'll go get him to tell you himself if I have to. He's said a lot to me about the grief he's gotten from the lot of ya while you've been under his command, but he wouldn't trade ANY of ya in for anythin'."
Those low, soothing tones sapped the will to argue from the yellow mech, even though he couldn't accept yet what Jazz was telling him. Maybe he did need to hear it from Optimus himself?
Or maybe, a snarky, self-depreciative part of his processor piped up, I just need to get my helm out of my aft and take the evidence that's being presented.
Optimus had been there for him whenever he could through this ordeal. He hadn't shied away, he hadn't broken under the strain of dealing with his issues. And he'd made it clear, more than once, that his team was his family. Which was probably the highest compliment the Prime could give.
Bumblebee frowned to himself. Where HAD he gotten these thoughts about Optimus not wanting him on the team? Why was he thinking these things? Why was he so CONVINCED of them when Jazz had just disrupted that way of thinking with the barest effort.
The scout gave a shaky vent, servos clenching anxiously. "Why am I like this?... Why can't I stop thinking stuff like this? Why can't I control myself and just… just stop being so weak and tired and… my processor keeps doing this, it keeps spiralling into these terrible thoughts and then they loop around in there endlessly and I can't get out of them without some kind of huge distraction-"
"Hey hey, it's ok. Don't stress, take a deep ventilation for me. C'mon, deeeep, yeah, that's it… concentrate on smoothin' out your EM field. You're safe right now, you're ok. You're not glitchin' or anything like that. I ain't a professional, but I've seen this before, It's all part of workin' through what happened to you. I know it sucks, but it's part of your processor trying to rationalise what happened. You'll come through it, just like you got through all those purges."
Bumblebee realised after a moment that Jazz had moved, coming closer and brushing his calm, welcoming field against his own. The scout hesitated before forcing his own to unfurl and concentrated on evening it out.
The other bot's presence was reassuring in an odd sort of way, and he let Jazz's field slide against his own, helping him to smooth it out. Doing so calmed his spark significantly, but left him feeling exhausted.
He was so tired of these wild fluctuations of mood and his inability to control them. If he wasn't careful, he'd just get frustrated all over again at this loss and fall back into the darkness at the edges of his mind.
"I can see you fightin' it. You're fighting for control all the time and it's makin' you feel weak, but you're the opposite. It's takin' all your strength just to stay sane from day to day, don't feel bad for that OK?"
Bumblebee shook his helm, offlining his optics and screwing up his face. "No, no it's NOT ok. I'm so TIRED of fighting. I don't WANT to do this anymore, I don't want to be exhausted, I want to let go and just… just… I want to let go and stop trying to fix myself, but I can't do it. I can't stop caring, I can't just let the urge to scream and break things and stop being sane overtake me. I don't know why it terrifies me but it does, and it terrifies me how much I want it."
Branches creaked slightly as the black and white mech moved, and Bumblebee felt himself shaking only when Jazz's servo gently settled to rub soothing circles over his backplates. It was the most familiar gesture the bot had ever made towards him, but he couldn't seem to focus on that. All he could think was that he didn't understand why Jazz seemed to be able to pull these things from him.
"It's deep programming mech. You're scared of it because you're not used to havin' your emotions take over like this. Considering what's happened the last two times, it's no wonder you're scared. You're a force to be reckoned with when you go off. In your spark though, you don't wanna hurt anyone, and that's why you're holdin' it back."
Bumblebee tried to still his shaking by drawing deep ventilations and forcing his EM field to match Jazz's. He slowly turned the black and white bot's words over in his head, unable to deny the truth of them.
At the core of it, he didn't want to force his pain on everyone else, even after they hurt him. He didn't feel like this made him a good bot so much as one unable to handle the consequences of causing others pain.
He uncurled enough to run his servos over his faceplate and make a noise of frustration.
"There's too much in my head right now. Wanna sleep so I don't have to think anymore, but I can't. I hate this. I hate everything about this."
Jazz hummed sympathetically and continued to rub circles on his back.
"I know you wanna stay away from everyone so they don't keep messin' with ya, but right now I think you need some serious distractin'. Sure you don't wanna come back to the Medbay with me so you can talk shop with Wheeljack?"
Bumblebee took a few more deep ventilations before he relented, nodding. "Ok."
It was an awkward feeling, knowing something very intimate and private was being installed by three bots he'd never willingly expose his interface array to. Add to that the fact he could not feel half of his body, nor any of the installation process, and it made the whole thing doubly strange.
Not that Bumblebee was complaining. Far from it, he'd rather NOT feel anything going on between his legs. Least of all the removal of his useless interface components.
The scout hadn't really been sure what to expect, going into this last procedure on a whim without mentally preparing himself. He thought it would stress him out more than it was, but the prevailing emotion right now was a sort of detached embarrassment.
Perceptor didn't make things unduly awkward, quite the opposite, he was his usual professional self as he handled the bulk of the removal and installation.
Try as he might though, the scientist couldn't hide a distressed look when he'd first opened up the scout's panel, nor when he finally pulled out the whole unit and could see the full extent of the damage.
Bumblebee was physically forced not to look at it when it was removed.
"You really don't need to see it. You see enough in your recharge, don't add that to it" Wheeljack had murmured gently, tilting Bumblebee's head back so he couldn't look at the unit as Ratchet took it away and put it in a sealed container.
"What are you guys gonna do with it?" the scout murmured, looking down again when his head was released. He could have resisted Wheeljack's hold, but he trusted the bot enough to take his advice.
"Incineration. Unless you… had some other idea for it?" Perceptor looked up from his work with an unsure tilt of his helm.
"No no, incineration sounds good." Bumblebee murmured, helm dropping back as he continued to watch the ceiling and try not to think about the memories he wished he could burn with it.
"I think you'll like the new one. It's nothing too fancy, but it's an upgrade. Not the bog-standard set they stick in new-builds." Wheeljack talked as he wandered over to the parts bench where Ratchet had been preparing the new unit and brought it over to Perceptor.
Bumblebee did glance down to look at it, feeling his faceplate heat slightly with further embarrassment. Obviously bots he didn't know intimately HAD to see his equipment to install it, but it didn't make it feel any less awkward.
The parts at least where new, clean, and most importantly whole. And maybe it wasn't so weird after all, because outside of a bot, interface components didn't look anything like how they did when installed.
It was all just casing and wires and tubes and sockets. Bumblebee couldn't even tell where the valve and spike where supposed to be exposed.
And what exactly did Wheeljack mean by upgrade? The question burned on his glossa but he felt that asking would make him seem far more interested in using it than he actually was right now.
Wheeljack seemed to have either read his mind, or he thought explaining things was a good distraction. Either way, the engineer began to list off the features.
"This has a liiiittle more girth on it than your old one. The connector pins in the hub have a different alloy, more durable and conductive. The sensory banding is totally different, you'll get much better feedback with less static in your lines. The valve has callipers twice as strong as your old ones, and a more flexible lining. It's also got a graduated hub for easier connectivity. Oh, better sensory nodes in the valve too. The hub and charge generator aren't much different, although the generator has much better feedback and static dampeners so you'll be better surge protected."
Bumblebee just blinked at him, too distracted by the bombardment of information to think about what any of it might mean if his fears came true and he was violated again. Slag, he didn't even know what half the stuff was Wheeljack was naming. Trying to remember was certainly keeping his processor busy.
Which was the engineer's plan all along, of course, but he wasn't going to tell the scout that. Once he ran out of tech specs to list, he did need to change tack slightly.
"So, any questions? I mean it comes with a manual that has all this stuff, but I figured I'd save you the reading."
The yellow mech blinked at him owlishly. "Um… so… basically it just feels better?"
Wheeljack's helm panels flashed an amused yellow. "Feels better, performs better, I mean, well… performance usually depends on the user but I'm not going to get into that." He waved a servo.
Bumblebee snorted. "Not gonna be a lot of performing in that regard." He murmured.
"Not initially, no, you won't want to. But if and when you do, I'm sure the lucky bot will be suitably impressed."
The yellow mech pulled a face somewhere between disbelief and awkwardness. "Uuh…I don't know about that. If they are it won't be from any skill on my part, probably just the tech specs."
"I daresay he's not really in a frame of mind to be thinking about these sorts of things just yet, Wheeljack." Perceptor said softly from somewhere between the scout's legs, head ducked down as he carefully slid the unit into place and began the tedious, fiddly job of hooking it into the scout's systems.
"Mmm. Point. Well, on a change of subject, you and Prowl had a talk the other day, right?" Wheeljack's helm fins flickered to a curious kind of orange.
"Huh? Oh… Yeah. We did." Bee murmured, noticing Perceptor throwing Wheeljack a 'watch where you take THAT line of code' look before continuing his work.
"How are you two now?" The engineer's voice was casual, and the scout supposed he was asking more conversationally than wanting any real details.
He shrugged slightly, folding his servos over his chestplates to fidget as he thought how to answer.
"Uh. We're getting there, I guess? We're talking again, and I'm less angry at him than I was before. He um… he apologised. "
He might have told Wheeljack HOW he'd apologised if it was just the two of them, but he wasn't quite ready to let Ratchet or Perceptor that deeply into his private life.
Well… any deeper than they already were, changing out components meant for very private things. He could argue to himself that it was all about the motor relays and electrical and sensory connections, since those were very important reasons for the new parts. But really, there was no getting around the fact they knew more about his spike and valve now than he did.
When Wheeljack seemed content to let him stew in his own thoughts, he began to wonder about the previous topic a little more. What if… and it was a big if… he actually DID want to interface again at some point?
He might have told Wheeljack about the kiss in private, but he wasn't going to admit that if he had to pick a bot to ever let near his equipment in the future, it was Prowl.
And he was pretty sure it was a fair assumption by now that Prowl would be willing to interface with him if he asked. It's just that he wasn't ready to ask, and he knew it.
That opened up another train of thought though… What if Prowl asked him?
SLAG no, that was a stupid idea. Prowl wouldn't ask him for that, he knew EXACTLY what had happened on that 'Con ship. Even a passing thought on how much of that the other mech had seen made him shiver.
"Did I do something wrong?" Perceptor's head popped up and Bumblebee's gaze snapped down to him, startled from his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"You just shivered, I thought I might have hit a sensor connection that isn't dampened".
"Oh, no no, just um… that wasn't anything to do with you." He murmured, faceplates heating again. He dropped his helm back and looked resolutely at the ceiling, trying to push thoughts of his ordeal away again.
Somehow everything seemed to cycle back to them. He had to make a constant, conscious effort when left to his own thoughts to NOT think about anything that had happened.
He'd even had this very conversation with himself numerous times, he knew he was exhausted by the fight to forget, he didn't NEED to think about it, he was tired by the very fact he was always tired, and he was SICK of thinking about this over and over and over…
No, no more, he needed to break that cycle. What could he think about to keep him away from the memories?
Prowl immediately came back to mind. That's what he'd been thinking about before, right? Prowl wouldn't ask him to interface, so if he was ever ready for it, that would be up to him.
Something seemed to unsettle his spark about what he'd shared with Prowl though. It was a kind of guilt.
No matter how many times Prowl insisted that he was OK with making Bumblebee overload without getting anything in return, Bumblebee felt bad for constantly taking from him without giving.
What could he give though? What could he do for Prowl that was anything like as good as what the ninja-bot had done for him? Could he… was he even ready to try and fool around?
Getting Prowl off without having to use his own interface equipment in any way was fine, that wasn't an issue. His servos could easily do the job, and it wasn't like he'd never sucked a-
But even the thought of it brought him back to the memories and he clenched his servos and jaw, shutting down that line of code immediately.
He WASN'T going to think about what those 'Cons had made him do. He wasn't.
I'm never going to be able to do anything for him if even the THOUGHT of touching other bots like that brings it all up again…
No, don't think about them, don't, don't even go there. Slaggit processor I am not going there right now!
Frag it all, he needed a better distraction.
"Uhm. How much longer do you think it'll take?"
Bumblebee cringed internally, he didn't want to sound rude or impatient, he wasn't trying to rush them. He just wanted to know how much longer he had to fight his own mind before he could find a physical distraction.
Perceptor didn't look up, tools deep in Bumblebee's hips as he soldered in tiny connectors. His concentration was barely impaired by the question.
"About three quarts of a cycle I should say. Possibly a little more, depending on how long it takes the software to integrate. You don't absolutely need to be here for that part though. It can run the installation in the background, you'll just have to come back for us to check it once it's completed."
"Software installation?" Bumblebee was confused. No other parts he'd had replaced required any additional software.
"Oh, yeah, it's also in the manual. It's nothing fancy, just command codes and level readings and useful stuff." Wheeljack was back, having fiddled around on the monitors for a while. He stood next to Bumblebee with his usual cheery expression, which reassured the scout at least a little bit.
"Levels? Of what?"
"Y'know, transfluid and lubricant. Lubricant is the really useful one, I mean you don't wanna go tryin' to interface if you got low levels on that. I know you probably don't think it's gonna matter, but y'know… if it does, it'll be handy. It just comes with that equipment." He shrugged.
Bumblebee blinked. The engineer had said this was just a basic upgrade. It was starting to sound more like a top end unit. "Sssso, what are the command codes for?"
"Oh y'know, just basic stuff. Panel control, cord release, quick pressurisation, valve controls-"
"Valve controls? OK now I KNOW this isn't some basic upgrade. How slaggin' expensive is this thing?" Bumblebee pointed between his legs with an incredulous look.
"It wasn't! All your replacement parts were donated by the head of the council, they didn't cost anything, I swear!" Wheeljack held up his servos placatingly, but Bumblebee just gave him a flat scowl.
Ratchet chuckled and wandered over, patting a yellow shoulder. "Calm down Bee, it really is a fairly basic model, I mean Perceptor is the one who picked it out. I thought it was something super fancy when they showed me the part specs too, but apparently interface hardware and software went through a bit of a boom since we were last on Cybertron. Kid, you don't even wanna KNOW what counts for fancy these days. They musta had nothin' better to do back home the whole time we've been out here."
"I don't know that that's an entirely fair assessment Ratchet. There have been many scientific advances since your stranding on this planet. It is not as if all the Cybertronian populace has done in your absence is find more interesting ways to interface." Perceptor scoffed slightly, not looking up from his work.
"Says the bot who's spent more time between my legs than anybot else, ever." Bumblebee murmured flatly, making Wheeljack snort.
Ratchet chuckled at the slightly affronted look that got from Perceptor. The yellow bot just gave him a shrug.
"What? It's true. You've been down there for like two hours now."
Perceptor's optics narrowed. "You enjoy trying to get a rise out of me, don't you?"
Bumblebee tried and failed to look innocent. "… Maybe?"
"To be fair, so do I Percy." Wheeljack snickered. "Anyway, yeah, the software just covers some useful functions. Unless you actually want to use them, they're not gonna do anything. If you don't feel like you need them, the unit works just like your old one."
"Oh. Alright. So, who IS the head of the council? What council?"
"You don't know Alpha Trion?" Ratchet gave him a surprised look.
"Uuuh, I know OF him, but I don't really know anything about the guy?" Bumblebee gave him an apologetic, quizzical look. "…Should I?"
"He's the head of the Guilds Domesticus and the council of Cybertron. He's usually the acting head of the planet when the Magnus is away. I mean obviously he's as beholden to the rest of the council as the Magnus, but yeah he's pretty much the leader. Mech they must have really short-changed the political downloads in those initialisation centres near the end of the batches." Wheeljack explained.
"No, they taught us about current political leaders and how all that works. They spoke about it a LOT, I just wasn't, um… very interested. May or may not have failed to update any of the files or even look at them beyond my first vorn." Bumblebee admitted sheepishly.
"Ah well. Considering how long you've been off planet, I guess you wouldn't really have any chance or need to update on who's in power and what they're doing anyway." Wheeljack patted his shoulder and wandered back over to the consoles.
"Add to that the fact that none of your previous jobs likely required you to remember any of that stuff and I guess even a bot like Trion can slip your mind. Just don't let him know that if you meet him, he's got a bit of an ego on him. Still, nothin' as big as Sentinel's so I'm sure you'll cope." Ratchet leant against the side of the berth, hips creaking slightly.
"I can put together a quick little info packet for you, since you're going back. Just to get you up to speed on some basic stuff." Wheeljack piped up from the console.
"That's actually a really good idea." Bee nodded.
"I'd like to think I'm full of those. Also with the ego thing try not to punch Trion in the face though, or you'll get arrested." the engineer responded cheerily, tapping away at the keyboard.
"I won't if he doesn't say the kinda stuff Sentinel did. So… why DID he donate the parts? Is this, y'know, related to the offer to go to the academy? Does he expect me to go into the Elite Guard in return for helping me? Like some kind of 'we fixed you so now you have to fight for us' thing?" Bumblebee frowned, the thought making him anxious.
"Primus no! It's probably just a publicity stunt. Anything that makes him look good to the public is worth spending a couple credits on. And to him it wouldn't even cost enough to make him think twice. Apart from that, he has been known to be a compassionate mech when he's in the mood. He likes springing full fixes on bots in need. Especially if the media is focussed on them." Wheeljack explained, busy pulling bits and pieces of information together.
"Media? Oh… right, that other Prime leaked that video or something right?" Bumblebee murmured, still uneasy about the whole thing.
"Rodimus, yeah. Poking around in our lab, exactly like he wasn't SUPPOSED to. To be fair we forgot to lock the console down, but that's 'cause we were busy hauling aft to the council chambers about coming to fix you." The engineer was apologetic. Bumblebee didn't really have the spark to be mad at him for the leak as it was.
"Surely it didn't get THAT much attention did it? It only circulated within the elite guard network right? Everyone would be over it by now." The yellow mech frowned.
Ratchet shared a look with Wheeljack. "Mmmaybe we shoulda mentioned this earlier, but uh. You're still kinda famous back home, kid." The old medic murmured.
Bumblebee blinked up at him in surprise. "What?... Wait, when you say 'famous', HOW famous are we talking here?"
"The news stations have been trying to contact us here since the story first ran with the video. They continue to request information on your current condition and offer some hefty amounts of credits for interviews with you. It was such a problem at one point that we had to request a special comm channel block to stop them clogging the line. We don't know how they procured it in the first place." Perceptor stated with a hint of exasperation.
"Why didn't you guys tell me about any of this?" Bumblebee frowned, more puzzled than anything else.
Ratchet shrugged. "To be honest, it never occurred to me. They told me about it, but whenever I'm in here or talking to you, it never really crossed my mind. There was always something more important going on."
The scout couldn't really think of anything to say to that. It made sense after all. Why would Ratchet or any of the others think to say 'by the way you're famous back home and the newscasters want to speak to you', when he was dealing with trauma on a daily basis.
The topic would seem so frivolous and unimportant next to him writhing in agony or purging his tanks, let alone being attacked by Wasp and then the REST of them.
Bumblebee wasn't about to blame them for failing to mention he was well known for his failure. It's not like he was proud of it.
"So… is it a good kind of famous or a bad kind?" he asked softly.
"Whadya mean kid?" Ratchet gave him a puzzled look.
"Y'know, like… do bots know me because they think what I did was awesome, or because they think I'm a massive idiot?"
Wheeljack made a noise of comprehension. "Oh, I get what you mean… no, you're not popular for being an idiot, you're popular because you represent the under-drone. They've kinda painted you as an 'unlikely hero', but they've also been trying to work up the 'tragedy' angle. Listen, don't talk to any reporters when you get there. Not without speaking to Rung first, we're gonna try and sneak you around so no-one recognises you and gets in your face, but… you know what reporters are like. They just want the story, they won't be trying not to trigger you. Slag they'd probably do the opposite, anything to get a story." The engineer murmured, helm panels glowing an orangey-red.
Bumblebee just nodded in understanding. "It's alright. If they wanna talk to me, I'll just leave. Not like they'd catch me if they tried, not if Sunstreaker and Sideswipe couldn't."
The scout felt his words cause a wave of unease through the room, and took a cold sort of satisfaction from it. They were all very sorry, but that wasn't going to stop him reminding them now and then what they'd done. He didn't want them to forget what he was capable of either, because if they did, so would he.
"Oh, slag, that reminds me. Professor Sumdac dropped these off yesterday. Might as well install these too while you're here." Ratchet wandered over to a nondescript crate under the bench and pulled out two new Rocket boosters.
Bumblebee made a sound of surprise. "And to think, the first time Sari showed up with a pair of those you were pit-bent on stopping me from installing them."
"Yeah, well… the way you integrated them wasn't exactly smooth, now was it? Nevermind kid, you're gonna like these. The professor said he worked out the kinks, they're more fuel efficient and they have power settings now. So you won't have to go from zero to 100 and cope with backlash."
Bumblebee's optics lit up a little brighter as he looked over the sleek, shiny replacements. He certainly missed going that fast. He realised he was way more excited by the prospect of replacement boosters than his interface upgrade. He in no way regretted that.
"Nice."
This felt good. This was what he'd been missing for so long.
He'd been anxious about leaving the base in case of Decepticons showing up, and he'd worried that racing around would bring back the feeling of being hunted. But right now? NONE of that was in his mind.
All he could think about was how GOOD the tarmac felt flying under his wheels, rockets pushing him WAY over the speed limit.
It didn't matter, because it was a Sunday and there were barely any cars on the road. Fanzone had long since stopped trying to ticket them, since not only did they have advanced enough sensors to avoid crashing into people, but they tended to be able to prevent crashes by stepping in. He only ticketed the newbies, to impress upon them what the rules were BEFORE he allowed them to break them.
Residents of Detroit were so used to the occasional Autobot racing about that it barely fazed them, so Bumblebee zoomed through the streets unchecked.
What really made his trip was the passenger he had with him. Sari had run up to him the moment he'd wandered out after the procedure was done. He'd already been thinking about breaking in the boosters.
She'd called his name, and he'd nearly had a spark attack when she ran over and threw her arms around his waist. After a few tense moments, when nothing happened, he'd blinked down at her, greeted by a giant grin plastered over her face.
"We found the cure for my problem!"
When she'd held up woolly mittened hands, he'd given a shaky laugh of relief and picked her up in a bear hug.
He couldn't even describe the way it made his spark feel. Something that had been aching deep in his core had been relieved. And it had only eased more when they'd gone for a drive.
He'd missed this so badly. Just being out with her, not having to worry about her touching him, talking about music and being egged on to go faster.
Part of him still worried, somewhere, that something bad was going to jump out and spoil his mood. But the sheer thrill of real speed washed it away. He didn't have to worry about purges anymore, every part in his frame was fixed and whole again, and if any 'Con tried to catch him?
Well, he wouldn't exactly like to see them try, but it would be a waste of time if they did.
The only thing that let him down was his spark. After a fair amount of racing around, and despite the energy efficiency of the boosters (which gave sustained bursts for half the energy of the old ones, a fact he took full advantage of), his spark began to flag.
Ruefully, he rolled back to the base, letting Sari out and Transforming. His vents buzzed on high to cool his frame, but he wasn't particularly bothered by the heat or the slight burning in his spark. It had been so very worth.
"Seems like your spark is making a pretty good recovery, you were out there for about two hours." Ratchet commented as he drew down some energon at the dispenser.
Bumblebee nodded, chugging down half the cube before he answered. "Felt good. The new boosters are GREAT."
"Mmmm, all the same, better take it easy for a while. Short bursts of activity like this are good, they push your tolerances up. Just make sure you leave enough time in between for your spark matrix to strengthen again." Ratchet pat his shoulder encouragingly.
Bumblebee nodded, finishing off his cube. Even though Ratchet didn't say it, Bumblebee knew what he was getting at. He needed to recharge. He knew it, Ratchet knew it. Slag, even SARI probably knew it.
"I better go Bee. I'll tell dad you like the new boosters. See you soon, OK? You should come around and visit the tower again sometime."
Bumblebee nodded, kneeling down to give her another long hug. When they finally parted, Bulkhead wandered by and offered her a lift, leaving Bumblebee with Ratchet. He sighed and gave the medic a rueful look.
"I don't suppose you found a way to block my memory core while I was gone?"
Ratchet gave him an apologetic look and shook his head. "Nothing your spark wouldn't be able to override I'm afraid."
Bumblebee groaned and followed Ratchet deeper into the base. "Stupid spark."
"If it makes you feel any better, Prowl reckons he's got a solution that might work."
Prowl's plan, it turned out, was to sit by Bumblebee as he recharged and use his processor-over-matter technique to block the memory purges anytime they manifested.
It gave the scout a solid four hours of recharge, until he came around on his own. As much as Prowl tried to pretend that the exercise hadn't been draining on him, Bumblebee could tell from his field alone that it hadn't been easy.
After making sure no one else was in the room (Ratchet had insisted Prowl try his technique in the medbay for safety reasons), he made sure to let the ninja bot know how grateful he was.
He did this by sitting up and catching the other bot's lips with his own for a few moments.
"I take it that my plan worked?" Prowl murmured when they broke apart again.
"It did, but you're not doing it every time I need to recharge. I can tell it wears you out." Bumblebee leant his forehelm against Prowl's. The ninja-bot looked ready to argue, but another kiss had him swallowing his words and giving in.
Prowl shifted to sit on the berth, drawing Bumblebee into a loose embrace. The scout rested his helm against a black and gold shoulder and his optics dimmed as he listened to the hum of the other's engine and spark.
"Your systems sound REALLY synchronised." He commented quietly, trying to get his own spark to fall into a rhythm similar to the ninja-bot's.
Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "That would be after-effects of practicing the technique. I was in a half-meditative state most of the time you were recharging. Your memories seemed to surface every breem or so after the initial half hour. I had to be aware enough to notice when you'd move or your expression changed, but then far enough into meditation to manipulate your spark and processor."
"Every breem? Seriously? No wonder I can't recharge properly." The scout murmured, frowning and nuzzling Prowl's shoulder slightly. "I don't remember much. Flashes of stuff that might have been memories or dreams but nothing clear. What you were doing worked really well, but I wouldn't ask you to do it again unless I really desperately needed it."
Prowl made a noise and rubbed a servo along the yellow mech's arm gently. "I don't think you realise it, but your situation is rather desperate most of the time. You can't function indefinitely on half-hour to hour long naps that are ended by violent memory recall. As tired as it makes me, what I'm putting myself through doing this is nothing compared to what you're dealing with when I don't."
Bumblebee shifted slightly, fidgeting habitually with his servos. "I already impose on you enough Prowl. I'm always taking from you without giving, I don't want to do that to you anymore. Recharging poorly isn't the worst I've been through, you know that. Besides… this Ring guy-"
"I think it's 'Rung'."
"Uh, right… yeah, Rung or whoever, he's supposed to be able to fix this, right? So I'll only have to deal with it until I start seeing him."
Prowl sighed softly and rubbed a servo over the back of Bumblebee's helm, pleased at the way it made the small mech's engine purr.
"You say that now, but keep in mind you've just come out of a peaceful recharge, and you'll feel very differently when you're at the end of your tether again after keeping yourself up for far too long. I appreciate that you don't want to impose on me, I do. But please don't feel guilty when I'm the one wanting to do these things for you. You didn't ask me, I'm offering. Besides, It's a good opportunity for me to practice. And I don't expect you to repay me somehow, this isn't a favour I plan to call in later-"
"I never… that's not why I…" Bumblebee sputtered. He hadn't meant to imply that at all, but regardless, Prowl raised a servo to calm him.
"I know it's not. But I've seen inside your head. I know it was only once, and I know the circumstances weren't good, but it was a very optic opening experience nonetheless. The way you were treated in your early vorns, the sorts of bots you interacted with, they manifested this. You were in circles of bots who only did nice things for one another because they expected to call in those favours later. I have lived around similar sorts myself. That's why you're not comfortable receiving help without 'repaying' it in some way. It's what you know, it's what you expect."
Bumblebee pulled back to look up at him with a slightly puzzled expression. The more he thought about it, the more he realised Prowl was right. He felt bad because he didn't think he could pay back what he'd been given. Subconsciously it was like a debt that just kept building.
And Prowl pointing it out didn't relieve him of it. It just made him more aware of the weight on his conscience.
Bumblebee sighed and leant against Prowl's windshield again, arms loosely circling the black and tan waist. "You're right. I mean, I guess you're right. I never noticed that before, probably one of those things it takes someone else's perspective to see. Another thing to add to the list of stuff the psych guy will have to tell me how to fix anyway."
Prowl leant his helm down to brush his lip-plates over the top of Bumblebee's helm. "Don't think of it as something that's broken, it's not really. It's just what you know. It's your experiences. Wanting to repay kindness isn't a bad trait, but I don't want you feeling pressured to do so, not in this case."
The yellow mech shifted to get more comfortable against the other bot's chestplates, humming thoughtfully. "I was… I was thinking earlier though, during the surgery… y'know what I said about-"
The rest of Bumblebee's sentence was cut off by the sound of the medbay door opening, and Ratchet made a surprised sound.
"Awake already? How'd it go? Seemed to be working when I left."
Bumblebee, still a little awkward about being particularly affectionate in front of other team mates, eased off his contact with Prowl a little.
"Oh, uh yeah, it did. I feel a lot better, didn't wake up from any memories. Just, y'know… woke up."
"Well, you're lucky it wasn't any earlier, we just got done. If you're feeling up to it, you two should come out to the common area. There's a few bots who have something to say to you Bee, and don't worry, it's nothing bad."
The scout shared a puzzled glance with the ninja-bot before they untwined from each other and got up to follow the medic.
Ratchet made no comment on their closeness. It wasn't as if he didn't expect it, given the merge. It was a quiet sort of relief to his spark that Bumblebee still accepted Prowl, it meant positive things for his recovery, even if he still had a fair way to go.
Any possibility of romance between them (he wouldn't ask, and he couldn't tell, but an old bot could always speculate over these things) was just an added bonus really.
He led them out to the common area, where several bots were waiting, including Sari. The young girl had done a good job of fooling Bumblebee into thinking she was gone for the day, because he did a double take seeing her there.
Bumblebee's mouth fell open as he blinked at the decorations and beautifully made oil cake on one of the conveyor stations in the middle of the room. It was surrounded by other little energon confections and small canisters of oil.
Optimus, Bulkhead and Sari grinned at him when he entered, Ratchet turning to do the same. Behind them, Rodimus, Jazz, and several of the other Autobots stood around. In fact, the only ones missing were Brawn and Sentinel.
"Surprise Bee! This is your official end of repairs party!" Sari piped up, practically bouncing on Bulkhead's shoulder.
"It's also the official 'sorry we were all total idiot jerks who chased you around and we're really really really sorry please forgive us' party." Bulkhead rumbled sheepishly.
Bumblebee looked up at the sign hanging over the table and made a noise of disbelief. They had in fact written both of those things pretty much exactly like that on the banner.
He glanced up at Prowl to his right, trying to gauge if he'd been in on this whole thing. The ninja-bot gave him a guilty look. "Jazz… may have suggested the method to help you recharge. He may have also mentioned he was going to help organise this while you were offline." He mumbled.
Bumblebee was speechless. He TRIED to find something to say, but ended up biting at his bottom lip-plate and fidgeting with his servos. On the one hand, he didn't feel like socialising given how his last few bouts of that had ended up. But he also didn't want to appear ungrateful, because it was a very nice gesture. And clearly spark-felt.
Thankfully the silence wasn't taken badly by the rest of the bots, a few of them taking it as a cue to move.
He watched Rodimus Prime warily as he walked forward and knelt down on one knee to be more on his level. The red and orange bot looked more sheepish than even Bulkhead, rubbing the back of his helm.
"Hey. So, this is supposed to be our opportunity to properly apologise for what happened. On behalf of myself and my whole team… we really fragged up. And we know it, and we're all sorry for the stress we caused you, for not using our heads when we should've known better. For what it's worth, you sure as slag showed us though. You've got some serious skill Bumblebee. Even if you don't want to join the guard, you'll always have our respect. ALWAYS. Anybot tries to dis you, you let us know OK? We'll set them straight for you."
Bumblebee wasn't sure he could answer by the time the young Prime was done. His throat-tubing felt tight, but he managed to push past the static. "I… thanks. Thankyou."
The scout had no idea how else to respond. His processor was blank, he'd never expected this kind of thing. Not a party congratulating him for not dying, or for being slagged off at everyone… Jazz, it seemed, had a great knack for the unexpected and throwing him for a loop.
"Ya should try the blue and red goodies first Bee, mah own special recipe." The other ninja-bot said with a cheeky grin.
It was the ice-breaker the scout needed, and he relaxed a little, reciprocating the grin slightly. He hadn't even realised how tense he'd been when Rodimus approached. The Prime got up and paused a moment before stage whispering to him "Nah you should try the orange ones first. Jazz isn't as good of a cook as I am."
"Ah HEARD that."
Rodimus snickered, holding out his arms. "Hey, I outrank you, and so does my skill with a sonic whisk. I'm not afraid to say it."
"Ya only outrank me in a technical sense an' you know it ya lil' punk." Jazz chuckled.
"LITTLE punk, says the bot whose head I can use as an arm-rest" Rodimus laughed.
Bumblebee found himself snorting at the exchange, so reminiscent of conversations he'd had among his own team mates before. He wandered over to the table with Prowl when the ninja-bot moved, Optimus patting him on the shoulder in a welcoming way.
He sampled the goodies as he was urged, Prowl remaining at his elbow as a kind of buffer to the rest of the room, for which he was very grateful.
At some point, a canister of oil found its way into his servo, and he somehow ended up on the couch with a piece of oil cake on a hubcap-come-plate. Sari was animatedly talking about their drive earlier as she sat on the back of the couch by his shoulder.
The party seemed to be happening around him more than him actually feeling very involved, but Bumblebee didn't really mind. Bots were talking and everything was… nice. Relaxed. Happy.
His anger hadn't come to the fore. It was hard to feel angry with oil cake melting on his glossa (apparently made by Wheeljack, and he couldn't ever remember tasting better, which he made sure to mention) and with Prowl at his side, pulsing good feelings against his EM field. There didn't seem to be enough room in his spark right now for anger or dark thoughts.
At some stage, both sets of Twins had sidled over and given very thought-out sounding apologies to him. He'd thanked them for it. Forgiven? Maybe not just yet. But their apologies were still appreciated.
What Bumblebee most appreciated was the sense of normality. Even though he wasn't very involved, wasn't the life of the party like he'd normally be, he also wasn't feeling tired, or strained, or awkward.
He just… enjoyed the peace and the pleasant distraction from his thoughts. He let the feeling that maybe life could go back to being good again wash over him. Even knowing it wouldn't stay that way didn't ruin it for him.
He soaked it up and appreciated it while he had it. And unfortunately, it didn't last, just as he knew it wouldn't.
There was a hush in the conversation as the sound of a truck approaching drew everyone's attention to the front entrance.
Sentinel transformed up, looking rather solemn faced. If he was sour about not being invited to the party, it didn't show.
Optimus stepped forward, brows knitting in concern. "Sentinel? Is something up?"
The blue and orange Prime set his jaw, looking nowhere but Optimus. "Just received a communication from Cybertron. They say they've been trying to get onto us for over a week, but a mix of this planet's weather and tampering on their end has prevented it."
"Was it something urgent? Something to do with the Decepticons?" Optimus straightened and set his can of oil down, the whole room quiet as they watched the two and listened.
Sentinel's face drew into an even stonier expression. "It's Ultra Magnus. He's been attacked by Shockwave."
A collective in-vent could be heard across the room, Wheeljack actually cursing quietly.
Optimus was visibly shocked. Whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been that. "Attacked? What's his condition?"
Sentinel shook his helm. "Critical. He's in forced stasis on spark support. Shockwave got away."
"What about our encrypted message? Did they ever get it?" Wheeljack asked, Perceptor moving a little closer to him.
"They did, but as far as they can tell, Shockwave managed to decipher it before they could enact their plan to capture him. They took too long about it if you ask me, it's no wonder he evaded them. Either way, me and my team have been recalled immediately."
Jazz wandered forward to stand by Optimus. "Immediately? As in 'right now' immediately, or 'as soon as you can' immediately?"
Sentinel gave him a frown and a calculating look. "I'd prefer the former… but since the science team has to come with us, we don't leave until 0900 cycles tomorrow. Wheeljack, Perceptor, you have to move whatever you need from your ship to ours. Chief medical officer FirstAid requested you both specifically. Oh, and the scout has to come too. Make sure he's ready."
The blue and orange prime didn't even look in Bumblebee's direction when he referred to him. To be fair, all that was visible was his head, but he was sure Sentinel made a careful effort not to see it anyway.
Not that he cared. The last thing he wanted right now was another confrontation with the mech. Sentinel had a few more quiet words with Optimus and Jazz while everyone else murmured amongst themselves.
Bulkhead shuffled over and flopped down on the couch beside Bumblebee. "Guess this is a goodbye party now too" he murmured glumly.
Bumblebee patted the nearest green arm. "Guess so. It's only for a couple weeks though. I'll come back. Not sure I'll be able to handle Cybertron for more than that. I mean, I like to go fast, and you know what congestion is like in Iacon. I'll be itching for Detroit highways after the first orn."
Bulkhead brightened visibly at the scout's words, but there was still a sad tinge to his optics. He seemed to consider something before reaching over and picking Bumblebee up into a bear hug.
The yellow bot had gotten so used to Bulkhead handling him over the vorns that he wasn't really bothered by it. Not even after the Wasp incident or his incarceration. Something he was very glad for, since Bulkhead hugs were rather comforting. When he'd been running scared it hadn't been quite the same, but in the safeness and comfort of the current environment, it felt like something he needed.
He hugged back, patting at the green chestplates. They quivered slightly beneath him, and he realised that Bulkhead was actually very upset by the prospect of him leaving.
And he wished he felt as much about it as his friend did. There was a sense of detachment for him. He knew he should feel more strongly about his leaving being moved forward very suddenly. But… it just didn't feel real. It was just another thing happening, the consequences weren't sinking in yet, and he wondered when they would, or if they would.
When Bulkhead let him down, Sari threw herself on him. He felt almost guilty for being so calm when she was barely holding back tears.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to speed up work on the space-bridge." Bulkhead rumbled.
Bumblebee cocked his helm in confusion. "Space bridge? What space bridge?"
Both Sari and Bulkhead blinked at him. "Uuuh, the one Professor Sumdac and I have been planning to build on top of Sumdac tower? We've been talking about it since we sent Omega transwarping all around the place."
The scout slapped a palm to his forehead. "OH, oh, right, of course, I forgot… we went scavenging parts for that didn't we? Heh… almost forgot about my little tour of the galaxy from that. Anyway, HOW are you gonna do it? Are they shipping you parts from Cybertron?"
"Nope, we're fabricating what we need here. We did go back and scavenge the rest of what we could from Megatron's bridge. It shouldn't take too long, it's fine-tuning the systems for it that'll take the most time. But if I work on it full-time, I should have it up and running before you're due to come back. You won't have to bother with a long boring space-flight, you'll be able to step right off Cybertron and back onto Earth!"
Bulkhead's expression had brightened just talking about it, and it was infectious, because it pulled a small smile from the scout. "Now that does sound good."
"Sorry I never mentioned it Bee. Shoulda kept you up to speed on what's been going on, I just… y'know, keep getting distracted around you." Sari murmured, still sitting in his lap.
Bumblebee pat her back and shook his helm. "It's fine. Today seems to be a 'catch up on everything you missed' day for me. There's been enough surprises that I'm starting to feel kinda immune to them. Though admittedly that one shouldn't have been a surprise, really."
"I don't know, you looked pretty stunned about the party." Bulkhead chuckled.
Bee snorted. "Well, yeah. No one's ever thrown me one before. Least of all for something like having a body that's not made up of slagged parts anymore. Don't get me wrong, I like the party… it's nice. And so is having a frame that both works AND doesn't hurt all the time. Great treats. Good company. All that stuff. Just… yeah. Thanks for this guys. I think I needed it."
Sari beamed up at him and hugged his chestplate, Bulkhead throwing an arm around his shoulders.
Bumblebee might not have felt much about the fact he was leaving in the morning, but he was very much feeling the effects of their affection.
Whatever any of his team-mates had done to him by mistake, the sense of family remained strong, and he wouldn't trade it in for anything.
The rest of the party was rather subdued, bots wishing him farewell, the best of luck, giving him advice and reassuring him that the elite guard would look after him.
It wasn't that he didn't believe them, but he knew the only bots he would be trusting there were the ones he was going with sans Sentinel and the Jet Twins.
And he only distrusted the twins because they weren't very experienced yet. Sentinel, well… who COULD trust Sentinel?
The party went on for as long as it could, with every single bot in the room getting around to Bumblebee at least once to wish him the best of luck with his trip. Eventually though, Optimus had to break it up and send everyone back to their respective tasks.
In Bumblebee and Prowl's case, that involved preparing for their journey. Prowl didn't have much to do, so Ratchet grabbed him to help Wheeljack and Perceptor.
Which left Bumblebee to his own devices.
At first he went to Prowl's room and sat at the other bot's console. He didn't do anything with it, too busy contemplating the practicals around returning to Cybertron.
He knew thinking was a dangerous exercise, because it inevitably lead to OVER-thinking, and becoming anxious about one thing or another. In this case, the news about Shockwave and Ultra-Magnus.
Was he surprised that the double agent had nearly killed the head of the Elite Guard? Not at all. He knew exactly what Shockwave was capable of.
Was he afraid to return when he knew the bot was running loose on the planet? Absolutely.
But was he really any safer here than he would be there? Not that he knew.
Shockwave was no longer restricted by Longarm's duties. He could steal a ship and come for him if he wanted to. At least on Cybertron, Bumblebee would be within the Elite-guard compound, which was well fortified and guarded.
The only reason Shockwave had gotten to Ultra-Magnus was because he'd been within that compound under the guise of his Autobot persona. Everyone knew who he was now. He couldn't sneak past them in person.
And if Bumblebee was going to be hidden from the media, he should be able to hide from Shockwave. If the bot came for him, he'd run. Malicious and cruel though he might be, the scout had never known him to be fast.
In this instance it seemed, his over-thinking was helping.
But that didn't mean he wasn't still nervous about his actual reason for going back. What would the therapist make him do in order to exorcise the demons in his mind and spark?
It wasn't going to be easy. Nothing to do with his life was ever easy anymore. Prowl was coming with him though, and that was a great comfort. Prowl understood. He cared about him. He wouldn't have to deal with his demons alone.
Feeling restless, Bumblebee got up and paced a little. He felt like he was wasting time. He'd said his goodbyes, but he wasn't gone yet. It made him feel awkward, like he should be spending as much time as possible with the bots he'd miss most. With Ratchet and Optimus and especially Bulkhead and Sari.
Much as he would have been happy for them to come with him, he knew they were needed more on Earth, despite the lack of recent Decepticon activity.
The other Autobots wouldn't be able to handle Earth properly without them. Half of them still couldn't follow basic human traffic laws. Primus forbid they get into a fight with any 'cons without Optimus to take them through the procedure of getting fights away from populated areas.
But what good would it do, tagging around after them while they were working? No, he needed to find something else to do.
It occurred to him that he hadn't showered in a while, and his racing around earlier had left him fairly dusty. A shower wasn't a bad idea. It would give him time to think about what else he might need to do before he left.
He wandered out of Prowl's room, but didn't quite make it to the medbay. The yellow mech paused by his own room instead, staring at the roller door. It was closed, but not locked.
It was unlikely anyone had been in there, or that he needed to take anything from it with him. Nonetheless, he found himself pushing up the door and wandering in tentatively.
He trod as if trying not to disturb anything, closing the door behind him most of the way. Debris was still scattered across the floor from when he'd had his… well, he called it a tantrum, but it wasn't quite that.
His optics alighted on the stain in the floor, the constant reminder that made this room unliveable to him.
Should he clean it? Would it make him feel better? Was there any real point? His tainted parts had been removed, Prowl was happy to have him in his room, he had no real use for this one…
But he still felt like he should clean it. Getting rid of it seemed right. Leaving it didn't sit well with him, but right now he didn't have the means or the time to go at it with acid wash. Maybe when he came back…
He sighed and turned from it, trying not to think about Wasp and instead turning his attention on the objects littering the floor.
He still didn't feel any regret. None of these things would make him feel better, none of them would be any use to him on Cybertron. Not the cracked water pistol, or the giant whoopee cushion, or the novelty car-antlers…
It was all garbage. Toys that had been amusing for as long as he'd been carefree. He sure as slag wasn't carefree anymore. Cheap laughs wouldn't heal over the scar on his spark.
He kicked at a torn monster-truck poster and frowned as he saw a broken frame beneath it. Crouching, he salvaged the photo it had held.
Well, maybe not EVERYTHING in there was full of memories that made him sad and bitter. Sari's grinning face beside his own looked like it belonged to another lifetime, but it didn't fill him with regret so much as a yearning.
He wished he could still feel the same level of happiness he had when they'd taken that photo. Right now, he didn't even recognise himself. The bot in the photo didn't feel like him.
Maybe… maybe one day he would again. Maybe. He could hope, couldn't he? Stupid as it was to do so, knowing how much it hurt to have those hopes dashed… well, he'd never been that smart, daring to be stupid was kind of his thing, wasn't it?
Bumblebee went about searching for the frames he'd smashed, salvaging all of the photos and putting them in subspace. They might actually be a good way to stave off home sickness. Or make it worse. He couldn't be sure, but he'd take them anyway.
He picked up one or two other things that hadn't broken. Mostly objects Sari had given him. She was no fool, she knew how hard he was on his stuff, which was why most of them were still in-tact. Sari tended to get him hard to break gifts, which he figured was just as well.
When he was done salvaging, he sat on his berth and huffed. The room didn't really feel like his anymore. It was colder and more removed from him the longer he sat there.
So why wasn't he leaving?
Bumblebee stared at shimmering shards of his mirror where they littered the floor. They stirred something in his mind, something Sari had mentioned a long time ago. Seven years bad luck, wasn't that the human saying?
It seemed hard to believe that any bad luck could do worse to him than had already been done.
And honestly, seven human years wasn't much to a cybertronian. Superstitious as he could be about myths and legends portrayed in human television programs, none of it felt particularly important compared to the real monsters and the real fears that haunted him now.
It wasn't black cats or poltergeists that had tortured and raped him.
Bumblebee shuddered, recognising the signs of falling into one of his black moods and deciding he'd spent too much time in the room. The state of it was too close of an approximation to his mental damage, he needed to get out and break the cycle before it was too late.
Now was not the time for wallowing. He had to focus. He got out as quickly as he could and closed the door, returning to his original task of going to shower.
If any of the others noticed the subdued, shaky EM field as he passed them, they said nothing. They probably assumed he was just upset at the prospect of leaving earlier than intended.
The early departure still hadn't really sunk in for him though. He knew it should make him feel something, but his spark didn't seem to have any strong opinions on it. It was just another thing he had to do. Another task to tick off his list.
Maybe his emotions were just too burnt out to cope with the stress of such a large change?
And it WAS a large change for him. Cybertron was a vastly different environment to Earth. His treatment would be a challenge, as would the decision he had to make about whether or not he wanted to accept the invitation to the academy.
Add to that the stress of the media who would be hunting after him and the fact Shockwave was running around somewhere unchecked, and he REALLY didn't know why he was still feeling nothing about the fact he'd be on his way towards all that in less than a day.
Bumblebee sighed, shaking his helm at himself and turning on the water. It must be emotional burnout, because just thinking about it hurt his processor.
The water at least was a pleasant distraction. Mostly because it felt normal again. Primus he had longed for the day taking a shower would no longer be a chore or a sentence to one or more exhausting overloads.
Overloads were fine, so long as they were by choice. At last, he could clean without the pressure of having to deal with a charge looming over him.
Which made the whole thing a very relaxing affair. He turned slowly under the spigot, letting the water run through seams and flush away the dirt and dust.
Had it really been so long since a shower had last felt like this? It was startling to realise that yes, actually… it had been more than a month, maybe two? He couldn't even be bothered counting the weeks, he was just glad that the ordeal of awkwardness and effort was over.
Things going back to normal was encouraging, even when it was in such small ways as this. By the time he'd given himself a quick scrub down with some solvent, he was feeling a lot better.
He turned off the shower when he was done rinsing and wandered over to the towel rack. This time when he caught his reflections in the mirrors, he didn't bother opening his chestplates. But something else did occur to him.
Bumblebee slowly dried off his armour, biting at his bottom lip-plate as he wondered. He was curious… and that was normal, right? Any other bot would do it. The equipment had been replaced, why not take a quick look at it…
He wandered a little closer to the mirrors and frowned at his reflection slightly. He'd never had a new interface installed, he might as well check it out. It didn't mean anything. He wasn't any more interested in using it. He just wanted to look.
Sending the command to his panel to open felt strange, mostly because that command hadn't worked for a long time now. Sure enough though, it snicked open quietly, and he blinked at his reflection as he crouched slightly and tilted his pelvis.
Wait a second… were those… was he SEALED again?
Mouth hanging slightly open, he hesitantly poked at the spike and valve housings. Oh yeah. They were definitely sealed.
Bumblebee had no idea if that was standard practice or some kind of… supposed bonus. He knew bots used to pay a lot of money to get re-sealed, apparently because they just loved the sensation of being de-sealed more than once.
He'd never really understood that, since de-sealing hadn't been a mind-blowing experience for him. A little painful actually, but now he thought about it in light of his first experience being premature, that might explain why.
Was this, like merging, something he didn't understand because his first experience of it had been botched?
He swallowed to try and ease the tightness in his throat tubing, closing his panel and going back to drying off.
So he'd been given a second chance then, to get it done right. But what was right? He'd heard several theories about the 'right' technique to de-sealing a bot, but he'd never done it to someone himself.
The thought of doing it TO himself repulsed him. The scout wasn't sure why, but the option held no appeal at all. Thinking on it, it probably had something to do with a lack of confidence. He'd probably just ruin the supposedly great experience and never feel what everyone thought was so great about it.
Bumblebee felt a little bitter that his introduction to BOTH interface and merging had been so messed up. Not that it was Prowl's fault, Prowl had done a great job making up for his lack of good experiences, but…
Wait…
Prowl.
It was like a lightbulb had turned on in his processor. Why would he NOT ask Prowl? Hadn't he just been thinking about that during the installation?
He already wanted to broach the subject of merges with him… and the possibility of doing it properly. Would he agree to that? Would it be too much to ask that Prowl be the one to help him start over? To do it right?
In his mind and spark, he had no doubt whatsoever that Prowl would do the right thing by him in both respects.
Even though his faith in the ninja bot's ability to physically protect him had been made shaky by the Wasp incident… he couldn't help but trust the other mech with his spark.
And there was a deep-set feeling within him that if he just… tried to merge with him again, but the RIGHT way this time… maybe it would make sure that Prowl never mistook him for anyone else again.
Could it hurt to ask? Given how dedicated to him Prowl had been, and how their closeness had progressed, probably not.
But then that left the question of when.
And Bumblebee, hanging up his towel and wandering out into a sparser looking medbay, couldn't really figure that one out.
The best time to bring up a desire to touch sparks with another bot wasn't a lesson ever covered in the initiation centre… or anywhere, really.
He supposed he'd just have to wait. Which sucked, because he'd never been a very patient bot, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it.
Prowl had passed out on his own berth the moment he'd made the mistake of lying down for a moment.
He'd only intended to rest a moment before continuing with making sure he was ready to leave in the morning. But assisting Bumblebee in his recharge, as well as a decent amount of time spent socialising and then assisting Wheeljack and Perceptor in shifting their gear to the flagship had all worn him down.
What woke him was a nagging sensation that he hadn't known where Bumblebee was when he'd gone into recharge.
As his senses onlined, relief washed over him to feel the scout's EM field. It was a little removed, but close enough to have prevented any nightmares. It did take the black and gold mech a few groggy moments to locate him though.
"Bee?... what are you doing down there?"
The scout turned his helm up to look at him, optics brightening slightly from their dim, contemplative state. He was sitting down by the foot of the berth, leaning against the wall with his legs drawn up and arms slung around them.
"You were offline when I got here, didn't want to disturb you."
Prowl sat up and motioned for Bumblebee to get up onto the berth with him. Bumblebee unfurled himself and climbed up tentatively, which concerned the ninja-bot a little.
When he had gotten the scout to settle beside him, he ran a servo over his arm gently. "Are you alright?"
Bumblebee nodded slightly, not quite meeting his gaze. "Yeah. Just been… thinking about stuff."
"Are you worried about going back to Cybertron?" Prowl asked softly. He'd been thinking about the news of Ultra-Magnus and how it might affect he scout all afternoon. But Bumblebee just shrugged, seemingly not very bothered.
"A little?... It's not just, y'know. HIM being loose. It's a lot of stuff. But that's not really what I was thinking about" he mumbled, voice trailing off as though he was unsure whether to brooch the subject.
Prowl took one of the black and yellow servos in his own and rubbed circles over the back of it. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Bumblebee bit at his bottom lip-plate, glancing up at him and away again anxiously.
"Yes?... But I have no idea how to… it's…" he huffed out of his vents and drew his other servo over his faceplate. "You'd think by now I could just come out and say this but I'm bad at this slag."
Prowl was entirely perplexed by the scout's behaviour, and remained silent. He kept his expression open and encouraging, unable to help the curiosity stirred by how flustered Bumblebee seemed.
The yellow mech took a deep vent and looked him in the optics again, determined to get off his chestplates the question that had churned in his spark all evening.
"Prowl, I want to… I mean… would you… merge with me? Please? I mean it doesn't have to be right now I just… I mean would you want to?"
Of all the things the ninja-bot had been expecting, it wasn't that.
Nonetheless, his spark seemed to skip a pulse in his chestplates and his mouth fell open a little. At first, he was too stunned to answer.
Bumblebee's face fell slightly, but he didn't break optic contact. "I just… I thought maybe we could do it properly this time… I mean I'm not accusing you, I know you couldn't help how it was before and it was-"
"Yes."
"I… huh?"
"Yes, Bumblebee. I want to merge with you. Properly." Prowl murmured, squeezing the servo in his own gently. It squeezed back shakily, and Bumblebee let out a shuddering ventilation.
"Primus I thought you were gonna say no."
Prowl drew Bumblebee into his arms and nuzzled his helm, the scout's servos resting on his lower windshield and unconsciously tracing the edge of it.
"I thought you might, if I asked. I wanted to offer, but I thought it might be too much to ask. It didn't feel right to me, to leave you with only a painful experience of something that is supposed to feel good. But I also didn't want to pressure you." Prowl confessed quietly.
Bumblebee's engine gave a small rev, somewhere between excited and nervous. "Isn't it, I mean, won't the same thing happen though? With the memories?"
"It will, initially. If you're prepared to push through that though, it gets better. They won't be at the fore the whole time. Do you really feel ready for this? You know Ratchet will have my head if I let you push yourself before you're ready."
The scout gave a shaky little laugh. "He would, but I'll defend you. I realised I wanted to earlier… I was going to talk to you about it before Ratchet dragged us off to the party. I want this. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all night."
"If you're sure then, I don't see any point in waiting." He kissed the top of Bumblebee's helm.
The scout looked up at him with an eager light in his optics and nodded. Prowl urged him to lie with him on his side, and Bumblebee just followed his silent lead, spark fluttering in anticipation.
They faced one another, unable to resist the urge to kiss briefly. It was mostly to relieve the nervous tension, and it did its job, Bumblebee relaxing beneath Prowl's servo as it stroked over his arm again.
The scout's engine purred softly and he bit at his bottom lip-plate when they parted. "Can I see your spark again? I was a little out of it the last time you showed me."
Prowl gave him a soft smile. "Of course". He sent the commands to his panels, and Bumblebee watched with rapt attention as chestplates slid out of the way to reveal the black and gold mech's spark.
The bright azure light washed over Bumblebee as he shifted slightly for a better look.
Prowl gasped as an unexpected touch from a small, sneaky servo ghosted along the edge of his chamber. But he made no move to stop it.
Bumblebee's optics flicked up to his face with a hint of mischief as he continued to caress around the other mech's casing. He could see now what Prowl found so satisfying about this.
He'd never really seen Prowl in the throes of passion. He'd thought about it, very briefly, when trying to imagine what he could do to repay him. His imagination did not at all do Prowl justice though.
The black and gold mech squirmed, arching into the touches and gasping between quiet, shuddering moans. The sounds sent shivers down Bumblebee's back-plates.
"A-aah… Bee… you're going to… I'm going to overload if you k-keep, ahh- doing that…" Prowl murmured shakily, servos clutching at Bumblebee's sides.
The yellow mech, who had been looking between his face and spark the whole time in apparent fascination, gave him an unmistakeably mischievous look. It was so reminiscent of his old self that it sent a buzz through Prowl's circuits unrelated to the touches.
"Well, yeah. That's the plan."
Prowl ended up gasping and choking on a moan as Bumblebee dipped his helm and a warm glossa was suddenly running along the edge of his casing.
He was undone almost immediately, shuddering through his overload and trying not to be too loud. It was hard, given how intense the pleasure was pulsing through his frame from his core.
Bumblebee pulled away and rubbed firmly with his thumbs over where he'd been licking to keep the stimulation going. The sense of satisfaction he got from watching Prowl overload finally brought home to him why the ninja-bot had insisted he was fine with not getting overloads in return for the ones he gave.
Bumblebee felt like he was overloading with him, even though his spark was only just speeding up in response. And the best part was, it was so far removed from any of his negative experiences that they didn't even touch his mind.
When Prowl came down from the high of his overload, he hugged Bumblebee closer, engine purring loudly. "That was sneaky. I taught you too well." He murmured in blissed out amusement.
Bumblebee snickered softly, the closeness of the other spark making him heed the urge to open his own chestplates.
They locked optics again as their EM fields mingled with one another, sparks so close they could feel the heat of one another.
A twinge of nervousness shot through Bumblebee again, and his servos trembled a little as they slid up Prowl's sides, tracing the curve of his chassis.
"It's alright. The memories will come, but we can push through them and bring up better ones. I'll help you." The black and gold mech's tone was relaxed and soothing.
Bumblebee couldn't find a shred of hesitance within himself when he could feel Prowl's spark so close to his, but he was still wary. "Have you done this before?"
Prowl nodded, leaning his helm down to nuzzle the scout's. "Only twice, not counting our first. It's alright. Don't be afraid. I promise to make it feel like it should."
Bumblebee couldn't find it in himself to doubt Prowl. He arched, offlining his optics as he felt his spark reach out and their corona touch.
Sensation blossomed through him immediately, stalling his vents.
At first, it seemed to transport him. He was in the wet grass, lying in a pool of putrid energon, with Prowl leaning over him and pulling him back to life. The first time their sparks had touched. That memory flashed intensely, but briefly, before melding into something else.
He was lying in Prowl's arms in the cell of the Decepticon ship. Except it wasn't just his own pain flowing through him, he could feel Prowl's thoughts and emotions as well. Could hear chanting in his head…
Please stay with me, please don't die, just stay with me, please…
As quickly and intensely as the memory came, it shifted again. Bumblebee felt his spark start to ache as he recognised the situation and worried that he would be trapped in these horrible memories, feeling Prowl's anguish and seeing a ghost vision of his concurrent memory as the Decepticons taunted the ninja-bot while they tortured him on an open comm.
The vision shifted violently once more, this time Prowl was not part of the memory, feeling through the scout the horror of Wasp overpowering him, taking him. Both of them shuddered.
Bumblebee clutched at Prowl's frame, gasping through his vents and whining as the merge juddered uncomfortably with his panic.
~It's alright, stay with me. It will pass, it will be alright, I promise, just stay with me~
He clung to Prowl's consciousness like a rock in a storm as more memories whirled in a frenzy around him. They were different though… not only were his own emotions attached, but so were Prowl's own from seeing them in his stasis.
The fierceness of Prowl's affection and urge to make him whole again utterly floored Bumblebee. It was enough to startle him from the terrible memories, into something quite different.
He was somewhere he had never been before, and something felt off about his vision. He wasn't normally this tall. There was a bot across from him, and he felt a detached sense of righteous anger.
"If you can get out the door before I stop you, you are free to go, and all charges will be dropped"
~Charges? What charges?~
Bumblebee felt a sudden distance from the scene, even as he watched it playing out, and Prowl's voice answered serenely, also not quite inside of the vision.
~That is my memory. That was the first time I met Master Yoketron.~
Bumblebee was quiet for a moment as he realised that the merge was supposed to work this way, and that not only could Prowl see his memories, but he would see Prowl's as well.
As if to reinforce this, more of them flitted past, merging together hazily, all related to this mech Prowl had known… right up to the point he'd found his master dying.
When Bumblebee felt the intense sadness and loss connected to that memory, it occurred to him that Prowl was showing him these things very deliberately. He was opening up to him.
Intense affection and a kind of humble appreciation burst across the bond from him, and suddenly he was back within himself, aware of the real world and the sensation of his spark as it interwove with Prowl's.
He keened softly, clutching at the black and gold chassis again. Prowl's arms, wrapped around him, tightened a little more, drawing them closer.
Bumblebee felt as if he couldn't get close enough. His vents panted with the heat of his rising charge, energy flowing freely between and through them.
With lucidity came control, and they began to share more with each other. Brief snippets of their lives before they'd met, things that were significant, and every time they dove into one another's perspective, a delicious kind of pressure seemed to build between them.
~This is it? This is what it's supposed to be like?~
Bumblebee felt his processor spinning with the heady bliss of feeling Prowl's systems as if they were his own.
A happy affirmation came like a bow wave through his spark before Prowl's actual response.
~Yes. It's not quite like anything else.~
More memories flowed between them, thoughts of pleasure leading them to recall former interface partners.
The memories were not all pleasant, and Bumblebee quickly passed over his first time with Wasp in favour of making his surprise known over Prowl's memory of interfacing with Jazz.
~When the pit did you frag him?~
~Uhm. Not long after we first met.~
Bumblebee was more amused by this than anything else, leaving the memory alone as a mark of respect to Jazz's privacy more than anything else.
And then, quite unbidden, the thought of asking Prowl to take his seals when he was ready came into his head, and it was Prowl's turn to be surprised.
He was so shocked he couldn't even form any words. He sent a mix of feeling extremely honoured and an intense affection to the scout in way of response.
Bumblebee was relieved, and he managed enough control over his own body to lean his helm up and kiss Prowl again.
The ninja-bot met him halfway, and this time it was a far more passionate one than they'd ever shared before, the two of them moaning softly into each other as their sparks spun higher, synchronising quite suddenly and taking them by surprise.
Overload crashed through them, whiting out their senses with intense bliss. Bumblebee had never, nor did he think he would ever feel anything quite as good as this.
It surpassed interface in every way. Prowls pleasure was his, and vice versa, echoing between them until nothing else seemed to exist, or matter.
The feeling of being one with another bot was indescribable. It felt as if a void he hadn't even known was there was suddenly being filled to overflowing.
He had no concept of time, the charge release felt like it went on forever, but it did ebb, as all overloads did. And when it did, he was left panting and clutching to Prowl, spark slowly slipping away from the black and gold mech's.
The feeling of completeness lingered though, and he basked in it, pressing his face into Prowl's neck as his engine purred deeply.
Prowl's own echoed him, the rumbling vibrations soothing as they synchronised and resonated against his own.
Prowl's servos stroked over his backplates and eventually, Bumblebee found his voice again.
"Now… now I can see what all the fuss is about."
Prowl just chuckled and nuzzled the top of his helm.
Even though they couldn't speak through their sparks, affection continued to flow through them. For the first time in a very, very long time, Bumblebee felt as if everything was alright.