Near the end of the day Bumblebee made his way to the med bay. He was quietly enjoying Sam's intense fascination with whatever he and the CMO were doing cloistered behind those deceptively simple metal doors. Bumblebee had felt Sam's relief at whatever Ratchet had told him, through the bond, almost as though the block they had placed between them had not even existed, so strong was the youth's reaction.

Shortly afterward, however, Sam's focus had taken over and it had been that way for the rest of the day.

Now, in close proximity again, Bumblebee was careful not to distract his bother as he opened the door.

And froze.

Sam was perched on a medical berth, Ratchet standing over him, both completely engrossed in the innards of a hardlight recreation of a basic protoform.

Ratchet was pointing to something Bumblebee could not see. "See, this is a primary transformation gear. Do you see how its basic shape and configuration differ from this secondary gear?"

Sam nodded, leaning over even more, so that he was half inside the joint. "Like the primary clasp differs from a secondary clasp."

"Exactly." Ratchet was smiling… smiling! "Now. This is how that gear normally functions." He did something to the hologram and Sam pulled back slightly.

"Wow. So they really do work together, in tandem, I mean. Is that why you can transform so quickly?"

"In part." Ratchet confirmed. "However, the secondary gears can support a complete transformation in a pinch, though the risk of stripping them is high."

Sam sat back on his heels, pulling himself completely out of the hardlight projection. In doing so, he glanced up and saw Bumblebee. The smile that lit his face was almost infections. "Hi Bee!"

"Bumblebee." Ratchet greeted, following Sam's look. "Glad you could make it."

The CMO stepped back and looked down at Sam again. "You have done very well today, Sam. Tomorrow come back and, at this rate, I believe we will be able to complete your introduction to basic Cybertronian physiology and anatomy."

"I can't wait!" Sam's smile almost threatened to split his face and Bumblebee could not help but smile himself as the young man's excitement spilled across their still somewhat blocked bond.

"Good. Now." Ratchet's attention went back to Bumblebee, who straightened nervously under the scrutiny. "You said you'd help him however you could?"

Had he been human, Bumblebee would have swallowed nervously. Instead, his antennae flattened slightly as he warbled a nervous affirmative.

"Good." Ratchet looked back at Sam. "Identify a primary transformation clasp and its accompanying main hydraulic feed in Bumblebee's left shoulder. Then you may go."

A yellow-green finger was suddenly pointed in Bumblebee's face. "You. Let him do this on his own. No pointing him in the right direction!"

Bumblebee hastily shook his helm.

Sam merely smiled, rolling his eyes half-heartedly. "Day one and already a pop-quiz." But he was already moving on the berth towards Bumblebee. "You heard the doc, big guy."

Admittedly intrigued, Bumblebee stepped forward and held out his hand in perfect timing for Sam to step onto it without having to pause his stride. He lifted his smaller brother up to his left shoulder as instructed.

Sam did not move from his perch for a long moment, however, as he critically considered Bumblebee's shoulder.

"It's different than the protoform we were looking at." Sam protested.

"Only because it has been reformatted to make his alternative form." Ratchet calmly assured. "The anatomy is still the same."

Bumblebee could feel Sam's private flicker of disbelief at that statement and sent him silent reassurance; his confidence that Sam would figure it out. He was not allowed to help, but he could sure encourage.

Sam smiled briefly, soaking up the encouragement Bumblebee sent his way, then climbed off Bumblebee's hand and onto the armor of his shoulder. Bumblebee had carried Sam several times on his shoulders, but somehow, this felt different.

"Hey, Bee, can you open this seam here please?" Sam pat the area where to armor plates met, then backed away from them slightly.

With an affirmative chirp, Bumblebee obligingly slid the two plates apart, exposing the inner workings of his left shoulder.

With only a touch of hesitation, Sam climbed back onto his shoulder. One hand grasping a metal plate, Sam leaned into Bumblebee's frame. He could feel Sam's hands as he gently touched various components in the joint, then he felt Sam's entire demeanor brighten.

"There is the clasp! No… wait. That's a secondary clasp. Here! Here is a primary." He announced, triumphantly. His probing hands shifted. "And here is the hydraulic line… wait. What is this?"

Bumblebee looked up at Ratchet as the CMO stepped closer, looking into his exposed shoulder joint where Sam was rubbing a hand lightly over some of the lines.

"Very good Samuel. I was wondering if you'd notice that scar."

"Scar?" Sam leaned back to look up at the medic.

"Yes. That was from damage Bumblebee incurred in the same battle where his vocalizer was damaged beyond repair." Bumblebee felt a cold chill in his spark as Ratchet continued. "That was the same battle where the AllSpark was launched from Cybertron."

Sam was quickly getting over his initial shock at the CMO's almost casual announcement and was trying to offer comfort, but Bumblebee's processors seemed to have frozen at the unexpected reminder of that horrible, horrible, last stand.

Ratchet proved he was not entirely insensitive to what the young scout was going through as he rested a hand lightly on his other shoulder.

"Thank you, Bumblebee. Samuel, I expect to see you as soon as you have completed your morning refueling."

Bumblebee snapped back to the moment with a little shudder and a quick shuttering of his optics. Somehow, Sam had managed to close the armor covering his shoulder and was willingly shifting into the hand Bumblebee held up for him.

As he made his way back to the privacy of their quarters, Bumblebee could feel Sam leaning imploringly against the mental block Bumblebee had strengthened to keep the brunt of his sudden spark-felt pain from hurting him too.

~I'll be alright, Sam.~ Bumblebee told him over their bond. ~It is just…~

~That battle traumatized you in more ways than just physically.~ Sam finished for him as the door to their quarters slid shut behind them.

Bumblebee could feel Sam still wanted him to drop the block and he shook his head. ~Too much, Sam. I can't do that to you…~ Not until he regained control and shut those memories up again. Pit, he was frightened by how strong a reaction he was having. No way would Bumblebee willingly subject his smaller, younger brother to that.

~You lost your voice Sam insisted. ~Even before our bond there were times I could tell how hard that has been on you. You've been dealing with this alone for a long time. You don't have to any more.~

A soft keen escaped Bumblebee's vocalizer as he realized Sam was not going to let this go. He had always dealt with the trauma of that battle and the memories in produced by burying them in the deepest files of his processor.

Then he felt Sam's block come down. Tied together as they were, his vents hitched in breathless horror as his own followed suit.

The melding of their minds happened as quickly this time as it had before, though now Bumblebee's own internal agony and remembered terror and helplessness flowed across to ensnare his younger and much, much smaller brother.

Afraid the crushing weight of the memories and their accompanying emotional turmoil would overwhelm Sam, Bumblebee found his own internal struggle buffered instead.

Shuttering his optics and refocusing on the human in his hand, he saw moisture streaming down Sam's face.

~You're not alone anymore, Bee.~ The warmth of Sam's presence comforted the old mental wounds and soothed the ragged emotional edges Bumblebee had done his best to hide even from himself.

Bumblebee had not wanted to burden his human bond-brother with this, but realized in that moment that Sam had already grieved for him – not just over this but something else as well, though Bumblebee was not sure what it was – and was at some level relieved to finally be able to grieve with him.

In a strange way it was a balm for both of them.

Or, perhaps, it was not so strange.

Through their bond, Sam's unique take on the matter rolled back to Bumblebee and gave him insight he never would have considered otherwise. Through the bond, Sam could hear the laugh Megatron had stolen from him, could hear his true voice. Even without the bond – and having only known him for a few short days, Sam had seen him reduced to complete immobility and had stayed with him. He could no more turn away when Bumblebee was suffering emotionally than he could when it was physical.

With a quiet venting of air, Bumblebee allowed himself to be enveloped in the warm affection and love offered by his human brother.

For the first time in the many decavorns since that fateful battle, since he had been 'stable' enough for Ironhide to stay out of his processors, Bumblebee felt like the scars inflicted on him might finally start to heal

… … …

The next few days saw them fall into a similar rhythm. Ironhide would come drag Bumblebee out to the training field and Sam would eat the breakfast the big black mech provided and then had to the med bay for his day-long lesson. When he was finished training for the day, Bumblebee would come find him and then they would head for the rec-room and then to their quarters. Once Bumblebee took Sam for a drive to the beach so he could stretch his legs and look at something besides metal walls.

They were scheduled to fly back to the States in four more days. A Sunday. Sam would get back with approximately 10 hours before his first class. Did anyone know the meaning of the word Jetlag?

Sam shook his head ruefully as he made his way to the med bay that day. They had finished Basic Cybertronian anatomy on the second day of his training and had just completed what Ratchet had called an 'extremely truncated' rundown on the 'most common injuries' he might encounter. That had taken another two days.

Cracking his knuckles, Sam could not help but smile. Today he was supposed to start learning actual repair techniques.

As if sensing his excitement, the med bay doors swooshed open at his arrival. Sam was halfway through the portal when he froze. Ratchet was not alone, and both 'Bots looked down at him expectantly.

"Oh. Mornin' Optimus." Sam looked between them, hesitantly. "Sorry to interrupt. I can come back later."

Sam was already backing out the door when Optimus spoke, lifting a hand in a staying gesture. "Unnecessary, Sam. There are some things we need to discuss."

Sam stopped back-peddling as Optimus stepped toward him, kneeling to be at his level. The two considered each other for a moment, then the last Prime offered his hand.

"Should I let Bee know…" Sam started, only to have Optimus shake his helm.

"It is you I wish to speak to, Sam." Optimus stood and began making his way towards his office. "However, do not feel you must keep what we discuss to yourself."

Sam nodded, swallowing slightly at the somber tone in Optimus' voice, feeling remarkably like he did when he knew his parents were preparing to have a tough discussion with him.

Thanks to Optimus' long legs and resulting ground-covering stride, they were closed in his office rather quickly. Sam blinked when he heard the tell-tale beep of the locking mechanism engaging.

For a long moment, Optimus simply considered Sam, who tried not to squirm under the intense cerulean gaze. There had been times, including that first meeting in the alley in Tranquility, that Sam felt Optimus could see into his soul. It was never judgmental or condemning, only… like he felt exposed. Since discovering his bond to Bee, Sam had picked up and added to that a new level of awed respect for the age-old leader. Bumblebee held Optimus in that light and, bound as they were, it was impossible for Sam not to feel the same.

Through their bond Sam had also learned that the ability to see more than meets the eye – er, optic – was just part of what made Optimus a Prime. It gave him the ability to trust Optimus even more than he had before. And so Sam waited silently, not feeling like it was his place to initiate whatever this conversation was to be about.

"I understand you have developed the ability to use Cybertronian technology – almost as easily as we ourselves do." Optimus' deep voice rumbled soothingly over nerves that were starting to grow frayed in the heavy silence.

"That's what I've been told." Sam said lamely.

"Optimus held up his other hand and Sam saw another holoprojector sitting in his palm. "Wheeljack loaned this to me. Would you be so kind as to demonstrate this newfound skill?"

With a hesitant breath, Sam slid over into Optimus' other hand. Other than the datapad, he had not operated any other Cybertronian tech. Ratchet had mentioned seeing he could learn to use some of the smaller Cybertronian tools today, but that had not happened yet.

He reached out for the emitter concentrating, feeling the flickering energy in generated even powered down, taking a moment to relish the sensation now that he was not scared of what that ability meant. Then he powered it up.

If he was surprised by the appearance of a miniature Iacon skyline, Optimus gave none of it away.

"Before the war, Iacon was the capitol of Cybertron." Optimus intoned gravely. "The image I showed you back in Tranquility was what it looked like near the end. I am glad you now get a chance to see it as it once was; in it's splendor."

The silence resumed for only a brief moment.

"Change it to the next image please, Sam."

Sam's breath caught in his throat, remembering Ratchet and Wheeljack's indications of pain when he had done that before. he desperately did not want to be responsible for doing that again. Especially not to Optimus. "But…"

"Please indulge me."

The command was not harsh or demanding but still brooked no argument. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Sam did as he was bid.

Optimus Prime simply regarded the floating image of the Allspark, his expression giving nothing away, the rhythmic sound of his systems and the soft hiss of his vents unchanged.

The longer the Prime went without a negative reaction, Sam felt more of his tension ebb.

"One of the Prime's main functions among our people is that of High Priest. It was my duty to guard and protect the AllsSpark and the knowledge it contained." Optimus finally took his optics off the holographic projection to meet Sam's steadily widening eyes.

"In order to protect the AllSpark from the corruption Megatron planned to use it for, in order to protect the integrity of the AllSpark, I had to eject it from Cybertron." Optimus' voice rumbled almost apologetically. "I never intended for it to land here on your world. Never intended for our war to come to Earth."

Optimus lifted his had to bring Sam closer to his optic level. "To protect our own way of life we endangered yours and every living creature on this planet. Even if the decision to evacuate the AllSpark from Cybertron was mine alone, none of us hold it against you that you did what was necessary to defend your world."

"But the future of Cybertron…" Sam could only whisper, the guilt and regret that had haunted him since Mission City rushing over him again. "I destroyed…"

"Sam." Optimus interrupted, reaching up to pluck the holo-emitter out of his palm and subspace it with his free hand. Then he rested a large metal digit on Sam's shoulder. "I was willing to sacrifice my own spark to destroy the AllSpark; a final sacrifice in my role as its protector since I was unable to keep it safe. This was because I had come to the conclusion that even if the AllSpark survived, so long as the war continued, we were still a dying people."

Sam could hear the pain behind those words, even as Optimus continued. "If Megatron had been allowed to use the AllSpark to build his army, the war would only continue that much longer and spread to other innocent worlds."

Bright blue optics bore the message deep into Sam's soul. "Our greatest purpose as Autobots is to protect life. All life. Even if that meant to eventual extinction of our own."

Sam shook his head, feeling Bumblebee's concern at his grief, but he ignored it as he looked up at Optimus.

"But... Why did it have to be me?" Sam found himself whispering brokenly, the sheer volume of compassionate warmth that Optimus was offering to him, while expecting nothing in return, making him feel a little like a child clinging to a parent. "I never wanted to be the one that wiped out an entire race."

"Sam, fate rarely calls upon us at a time of our choosing." Optimus reminded him. "You have also given us hope, Sam. Never forget that. The knowledge of the AllSpark was preserved in you and then fused with the Matrix of the Harvester. We know the Matrix can restore a spark to a frame; there is hope in that. So long as even one of us is yet alive, there is hope."

Sam was not sure what he felt because he was feeling so many things simultaneously. The hand holding him curled into a loose cup and brought him closer to Optimus' broad red chassis, directly over his spark chamber. The massive engine purred in a soothing manner. Forgetting his manly dignity for the moment, Sam curled closer to that warmth, that life-force, knowing he would not be judged or ridiculed for doing so.

"There is not a soldier among us who does not harbor regrets about past actions. We can only speculate how bearing such a burden must be on one so young and would not have you add more by believing we hold any animosity, blame or anger toward you." There was a gentle smile in the regal leader's voice. "In telling you this, I speak as much as a messenger for the remaining Autobots as I do for myself. I have spoken to the others on Earth and those who are currently en-route who are within communication range and that is the consensus."

Optimus just held him like a frightened, hurting child – a youngling, Sam realized – for several long moments before speaking again.

"You did what you had to." Optimus repeated. "Now you have to learn to live with it. Know we – all of us – are here for you."

Sam felt himself relax against the comforting thrum of Optimus' engine. "Thank you." He managed weakly.

"You are welcome, Sam." A couple of minutes passed. "Ratchet has just commed me. He said you two have much to cover and only a few days left in which to do so."

Sam actually chuckled, though he caught the unasked question. He straightened. "I think I'm ready."

Optimus responded to his movement y pulling his hand away, from his chassis. "You have plenty of time to learn our 'first aid'. There is no need to rush."

Sam smiled up at the Autobot leader. "Thanks, but I'm good. Now I am, at least. Thanks to you."

Optimus looked slightly pleased, or at least relieved, then he hesitated. Sam guessed what was running through the Prime's processors and sought to make it easier for him. "I know you've got to be busy. I can walk if you've got stuff you have to do."

In reality, Sam just needed a few minutes to think and regain himself. Optimus seemed to understand what he did say, however, for he only nodded. "Of course, Sam."

Once he was on his own feet again, Sam hesitated, looking up at Optimus, one eye squinting against the harsh light he was now looking almost directly into. "You really spoke to everyone?"

Optimus' face plates twitched into a half-smile. "Except for two. But you are in a unique position to speak to both of them yourself."

Sam blinked. That was not exactly what he expected to hear. He managed to smile, even if slightly uncertain, back. "Oh. Alright. Thank you."

It was not until he was halfway back to the med bay that he realized exactly who Optimus had been referring to.

Bumblebee.

And through Bumblebee, Ironhide. His 'adopted' brother and father.

I know this chapter was not quite as long as the last one, and it has taken a more somber tone. The next one will conclude this short, little, more serious arc in which Sam deals with his internal demons related to him being the one who destroyed the AllSpark.

As always, reviews are much appreciated.