The Elite arrives... BTW, congrats to Foxyperv. She was the only one who actualyy SAID her guess out loud, and it was correct.
If you don't voice your thoughts, it's like not having any thoughts.
"Who the Pit does he thinks he is?!" Bulkhead's massive green form was trembling from suppressed tension as he sat on the floor, his fingers digging into the concrete. "We've been getting our afts handed to us by the Decepticons here, and he refuses to believe we're telling the truth! That glitch-head—how did he manage to become a Prime at all?!"
Needless to say, the gentle giant was not a bit pleased by Sentinel's attitude. It angered him with no end, how the cocky Elite had handled his friends. If it had been only him, he wouldn't have complained; but nobody, especially not some grinning scrapheap with an overinflated ego, had the right to mouth off to Optimus!
"C'mon, Bulkhead, let it go," Bumblebee said, trembling himself with anger, but for a slight and fundamentally different reason. "He'll get what's coming to 'im. We'll prove the Decepticons were here, and then we can rub his face in it!" He turned to the blue and red mech beside him.
"Right, Optimus? We can find solid proof, right?"
"A cold, offline body would make a very good start indeed," the young leader replied darkly—his nerves had been worn thin by his former friend's colorful insults. Sentinel's behavior made him angry and sad beyond belief. Why was he still treating him like an enemy, and why couldn't he leave the crew out of it?
Ultra Magnus' wisdom and logic was like warm energon on his troubled mind, though; it soothed him a bit, and the commander's praise was definitely an honor. Prime sighed, and looked at Bumblebee. "I'm afraid the only way to prove it would be either to catch a signal of them, or see them. Maybe they'll come out for more fragments, if they're still here and haven't left, thinking the Allspark gone. Maybe Megatron himself died, too; we cannot be sure...though I won't make bets on it."
"I can't stand the thought of it," snarled Ratchet, literally steaming at the seams. "That young sparkling deserves a good zapping from these old magnets!" Still growling, "Much as I hate to admit it, Prime and Ultra Magnus are in the right; unless we can find substantial proof the Decepticons are still around, the chances of us bein' the believable party are slim to none."
"Then we'll keep our optics peeled!" Bee cried animatedly. "The next time they come for an Allspark shard, we'll get a piece of them, or—or something! They can't keep calling us liars forever, right?"
Prowl just stood silently, listening to the words his fellow comrades speak. He stared distantly ahead of him, arms crossed. "But until we find evidence, it would be wise of us all to keep our heads level. We can't allow any instances where excuses can be found to confirm our so-called lies."
Optimus took a deep intake of air to cycle it through his insides. "Prowl's right; Sentinel's rather... unique approach toward us got everybody riled up, but he is a member of the Elite Guard, and he's the Commander's trusted soldier." Was he really saying this? "You're free to bash in his faceplates—in your dreams. Let us have some good recharge time...though, first and foremost, I'd like to thank all of you for how you tried to step up for me, and your excellent work at the factory. Again, every one of you has proven yourselves in battle, and I'm proud of you all." He smiled; a real smile. "Somehow, we'll prove ourselves. We're not going down for a crime we did not commit."
Ratchet, Prowl and Bumblebee all nodded their heads, each in various levels of enthusiasm. Eventually, the five of them dispersed to deal with their own issues; Bumblebee took to following after his mate, clinging to his arm.
"Sure you don't want me to slip a nasty present in his recharge berth or something, Optimus?" asked Bee wickedly. "It'll be a fast job, in and out, nobody will notice..."
The young leader actually laughed a bit, and drew the scout closer. "As tempting the offer is I'll have to refuse. Don't try anything with him—it could get us more glitching, and maybe even Ultra Magnus' ire. Not worth it. And, I'd rather have a surprise in my berth, you know. Something...compact...if you're catching my drift."
Bumblebee's grin widened and he snuggled closer to Prime. "Something just my size maybe?" he purred.
"I think that'll do." Optimus nodded and, with a sudden move, swept his companion up into his arms. "I love you," he said simply. The slender frame was warm against him, and his spark was fluttering happily. Having a mate was a wonderful thing. "You know...we could try something different tonight. I thought about going on slowly. Very slowly, until our circuits melt...after today, I think I can allow myself a bit of luxury; if you're up to it, of course."
The yellow scout shuddered, and leaned up to nip lightly at Prime's neck. "You don't even have to ask, Prime," he snickered, twisting sensually in his lover's arms. "Anything you wanna do I'm willing to try..."
Optimus grinned. "Oooh, yes. I'm going to make you melt into a little yellow puddle, my star. And consider this a threat."
The scout snickered again. "But I'll make you melt with me," Bee replied as they reached Optimus' room. To prove his point, Bumblebee pushed himself up a bit on Prime's shoulders, and very slowly ran his glossa over the young leader's jaw, ending the trail with a kiss and placing a few more just around the base of one audio.
The taller mech shivered from the pleasure that coursed though him. Bee's every touch on his audios could make his processors buzz from sensory stimulation and honestly, he loved it. For a fleeting moment, his thoughts returned to Sentinel; the poor fool; he'd probably never experience a bliss such as this. "You're welcome to try," he whispered to his mate and shut the door behind them to close out everything and everybody.
Time passed; the moon wandered on the dark sky. The huge crumbling building was dark, though not perfectly silent. Among other things, the huge plasma screen in the living room was on. Bulkhead lay in front of it, on his broad belly, flipping channels. He couldn't recharge, so he started to roam the corridors and eventually caught some noises; which only made him more restless. So he settled down with the television and tried to distract his thoughts.
"You couldn't rest either, kid?" spoke a familiar grumbling voice.
Bolts and screws squeaked at the hinges as Ratchet sat down beside Bulkhead, giving a long sigh through his vents as he did. "Don't blame ya; got a lot to think about now, with everything that's happened."
"And everything that's happening," Bulkhead mumbled unhappily, moving a little bit closer to the medic. "Ratchet...what can they do to us if we can't find the Cons...? And what will they do to Boss-Bot...?" He was worried for all his comrades. It wasn't fair! They faced Megatron—the biggest, meanest Decepticon ever—they saved Earth, and what did they get? A slagging disinfectant shower.
Ratchet grumbled at the thought, a deep frown on his face. He leaned back, creaking a bit. "Well, kid, to tell you the truth, I'm not very sure." He sighed through his vents, "But as for Prime...I'm sure they'll probably take him before the Council for going AWOL."
"Why is everything so fragging hard, Ratchet?" Bulkhead whined quietly. "We could have died! We risked our lives, and now people hate us and the Elite Guard hates us. Why can't something go well just once? Why can't we just have what we deserve or...the things we like so much we'd be willing to beat twice as many cons for them?"
"The Elite Guard doesn't hate us, Bulkhead," Ratchet grumbled, "That's just Sentinel." He shook his head. "At any rate, best we can do is fix it in steps, little by little. I don't doubt we'll get our chance to prove everything, but, like Prowl said...keep it cool until that happens."
There was a brief moment of quiet, while Ratchet tilted his head in thought. His optics brightened a bit and he tapped his chin. "Incidentally, have you noticed anything...strange about...Bumblebee lately?"
"Aside that he's as happy as a glitch-mouse in the storage and is interfacing with Prime every other night?" The giant inquired, and there was a hint of resentment in his voice. "Nah, nothing unusual..."
Ratchet frowned, sensing the distaste in Bulkhead's tone. "Had it in for the little 'bot, did you...?"
The young wrecker stirred and curled up, hiding his face behind his massive forearms. He nodded and let out a long sigh. "It... hurts. Sometimes it hurts so much, Ratchet," he whispered. "I want him so much, but he'll never be mine; he's Prime's. And it's okay, really—I love to see him happy, and sometimes we can even mess around a bit; but..." his voice broke with sparkling clicks and he curled up even more.
The medic reached over to put a companionable hand on Bulkhead's shoulder. "I...know that it hurts, right now, Bulkhead, and you probably won't believe me when I tell you this...but one day, it won't bother you anymore. You may even find some other 'bot you're interested in. But as for Bumblebee..." Ratchet sighed again, "You should keep being happy for him, keep supporting him. He'll always be your friend, you know, and it goes without sayin' that that'll be enough."
"I...know," Bulkhead managed to get out between two clicks. "I've watched enough soap operas...it's really not that I'm jealous or anything. Just...whenever I see him smiling at Optimus, I wish there were somebody smiling at me like that—you know? Having him around and you and the rest and Sari is great, and sometimes I thank Primus that he's so kind to me; but...maybe I'm selfish and don't know where to stop, but, I'd like to have a mate, too."
"There's nothin' selfish about wanting a mate, Bulkhead." Ratchet sat back a bit more, a wistful expression on his face. "When I was young, I was like you. I wanted someone who would appreciate me like those two appreciate each other. In the end, I'm sure every 'Bot is like that." He turned his head, smiling at the younger green mech.
"An' ya know what? It's...the greatest feeling in the world, Bulkhead. And even if you won't end up with Bee, you should save that bond for someone you really feel for. Understand? A spark's a precious thing; it's not to be wasted on spontaneous bonds."
"Hnn, I know that. Our sparks are special, and I really don't want to give mine to somebody I don't really like. I'm not that much of a fool. I'll try to get over Bee...after all, I don't really have a choice." He sighed and, very gently, he tapped at Ratchet's chestplate. "Your spark is bonded, right...?"
Ratchet nodded, looking down at his chestplate and brushing a hand over it briefly. "He's far away right now, though, my bonded; haven't seen 'im in a long time."
"It must be hard for you, too," the green giant murmured, and carefully curled an arm around the medic. "Tell me about him, if you don't mind? Why did you do it?" He liked the stories with many emotions, in the TV, and in real life, too. Bee and Optimus were lovely when they smiled at each other or let a touch linger. They gave off nice vibes from their sparks.
The medic gave a long sigh. "I did it because I loved him," he answered, reminiscent as his mind slipped into the past. "I still do. His name's Ironhide..." Ratchet kept a hand on Bulkhead's shoulder, but he stared straight ahead, looking distant. "Boisterous mech; can get very short-tempered if ya irritate 'im enough. He always landed 'imself in the med-bay with some part of him or another broken. I met 'im that way, while I was training to be a medic."
"Ironhide..." Bulkhead echoed thoughtfully then his optics brightened. "Oh, I think I've seen him back at the camp where I met Bee the first time. Not for long, though." He shifted closer; Ratchet could feel the warmth his frame radiated. "Ratchet...what happens when two mechs spark-bond? I totally freaked out when Bee told me about it first, and I'm still...uneasy about it."
"Ah, well..." Ratchet paused, pressing his lips tight. "When you bond sparks with someone, both of your sparks momentarily merge, and become one—you then share each other's memories and experiences through the bond, and when it's created, your sparks separate again. From that point on, though, it's as if the two of you are always a single unit. Your sparks call to each other; give you an open window into each other's emotions."
"Woooow..." Bulkhead was impressed. "That sounds wonderful. So intimate and...strong." He promptly hugged the medic; he always had a deep respect for the grouchy old Bot; but now, he really understood what was behind the constant grumbling. His spark gave a twist, arching up in its casing by instinct, wanting to comfort the other nearby.
Ratchet blinked at the hug, but didn't reject it. In fact, he smiled warmly and wound an arm around Bulkhead as best he could. "It is," he agreed with a murmur. He could tell the other was trying to comfort him, and was glad for the concern.
"Aaah, I've gone soft on all of you," he grumbled, "Too late to take it back now, though."
"I think we all love you, whether you're grumbling or not," the young wrecker smiled. "You're an awesome bot, Ratchet. Thanks for talking to me...I feel better. And I hope you'll meet Ironhide soon."
Ratchet mumbled under his breath and rubbed Bulkhead's helm. "Anytime," he replied.
His vents sighed with another whirr and he shakes his head. This was all well and good, but he still couldn't get his mind off of Bumblebee—there was definitely something wrong with the little 'bot, and it bothered Ratchet that he couldn't figure out what. There had been a rather...indecent approach from the young 'bot several orns ago, and Primus help him if he couldn't resist; but since then, Ratchet's systems were experiencing little glitches, and recharge was getting more and more restless for him, a problem he had never even known of until now.
"Bulkhead...have your systems been...functioning alright, lately?" He glanced at the mech. "Ya haven't been experiencing any, ah...little glitches, here and there, have you?"
The giant pulled back a little and hummed. "Well, I've been feeling a little tired lately, and I think my spark's acting up a bit, but I figured it was because of the emotional stuff." He frowned lightly. "Bee's weirder. I mean, last time we were, uh...playing at first, but then he just started to mess with my neck. Not that I'm complaining—but he offlined me, it was so strong, and he isn't usually that demanding."
Ratchet frowned contemplatively. "...And did the fatigue and weird spark behavior happen to start after Bee offlined you like that?"
"Err...I guess, around that, yeah." Bulkhead blinked. "What's on your mind...?"
The medic made another low grumble. It was just as he'd thought. "Because Bumblebee did somethin' similar with me, and now my system's been glitching up. I'm concerned because it means that Bee might have some sort of..." he leered quickly at Bulkhead, raising a hand in assurance, "Now don't get fussy in a panic, but I think it might be a virus...and if it's gonna harm us, I wanna try and find how it started and figure out a way to fix it."
The giant blinked, optics widening slightly. "Uhh...okay...not panicking, not panicking...but, we get viruses from computers usually, don't we? Bee doesn't really plug into anything; he just pokes them, like his video games. And our firewalls are supposed to keep anything weak out of our systems. How in the Pit did he get a virus?"
"I...don't know," Ratchet admitted with a frown. "But I've run several system checks on 'im, and I didn't pick out anything technically unusual." He paused for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. His processors whirred overtime in his head while he tried to spit out a conclusion; and he finally reached one after a cycle or two.
"Maybe...the problem isn't mechanical. It's possible the virus is some sort of organic infection...it's the only thing that fits." Ratchet crinkled his brow. "But, organic infection wouldn't be physically possible, unless—"
Clunk. Something hit in his processors, and Ratchet's optics widened. NO. You're kidding—I thought we got rid of that pesky issue?!
"What?" Bulkhead asked, growing worried and alarmed. "What is it? The only organic trouble we've ever met was Blackarachnia and the barnacles—" Now, something stated to tick in his processors as well. "Overload, that's a lot of energy, isn't it...?"
"And if it's the barnacles, then they're probably feeding on it..." Ratchet's faceplates tightened and he hissed. And Bumblebee's infection was right over his spark chamber.
This was bad. This was very bad. "...Bulkhead, I think I'm gonna need your help with a few things soon. I'll have to bring Bee in for a more thorough examination, and...we'll need to keep 'im still."
"He...Bee has barnacles." Bulkhead looked positively disgusted. "That's gross! And he—Primus, he passed it over to all of us, except Prowl! If he's lucky enough..." He clicked. "Optimus—they've been doing it ever since...! Hey, Ratchet, How about starting with me? I mean, I'm here, and I won't wiggle. Sure, we need to get Bee, too, but it might not be easy. You know how he hates check-ups."
Ratchet wasn't so sure about Prowl, as he'd been infected, as well, but he said nothing else on the matter. "Alright, alright...but it's late right now, so let's try to start first thing tomorrow. Any 'bot will function better after at least attempting to get some rest." And it'll give me some time to think up some theories and methods on how to approach this, Ratchet thought.
"Okay," Bulkhead nodded seriously. "I guess we shouldn't say anything to the Elite yet. They might get edgy if they get to know about it...you've seen how Sentinel reacts to humans."
"Sentinel is the last bot I intend to inform," Ratchet grumbled. It was cruel, but true—for more than one reason. The main one being that he didn't want to hear Sentinel's grumbling and panicking while he tried to work out a cure. "But Ultra Magnus will need to know once I've found a way to combat the virus."
"They're not in any real danger, after all," the giant mused. "Bee wouldn't try to go after them, right?" No, of course not, Bulkhead thought. At least the Elite had nothing to fear.
