AN: Hello to anyone who has followed me for alerts! This is probably not what you were expecting. Theoretically my profile should be updated to reveal new information, but if it's not I'll keep it short: trying to get back into writing in general but specifically for TF and for my baby fic The Change. Working on other stuff, too, but that's the big one. I ultimately want to go through and at least fix all my old fics for errors/big inconsistencies. Might delete some, we'll see. You can find my AO3 under the username energonbunny (have some works for Venom, too!) and this fic is already posted there under the title "Covering my ears like a kid" so if you want to see the tags I'd suggest a quick google search! If you've stuck around with me this long: know that I love you. Also does anyone want to beta read the monstrosity TC:R is becoming? Because holy crap!
To everyone else that sees this, I hope you enjoy!
Bumblebee came out of recharge when his internal alarm went off. He took a quick scan of his surroundings and settled back on his shocks when he found everything as it should be. He always set the alarm for 2:55 because the last bell for Sam's school rang at 3:00 pm and it took him about five minutes to get to his locker and make his way across the parking lot to where Bumblebee was parked. Altogether he had about eight minutes to wait for his charge if everything went according to schedule.
At 3:07 Bumblebee flashed his headlights at Mikaela as she got on her school bus. At 3:15 he couldn't stop himself from sinking low on his shocks. Obviously things were not going according to schedule and he couldn't help but worry. Sure, he had only been with Sam for about three weeks now since everything in Mission City happened, but the boy was quite punctual and respectful of the fact that he had a sentient being playing driver waiting for him. It was rare for Sam to be so slow.
At 3:20, after what Bumblebee could only assume was the mass exodus of most of the rest of the school, he spotted Sam coming out a side door with his friend Miles trailing behind him. Miles appeared to be carrying both of their book-bags and Sam was holding something small and white in his hand—after a quick internet search he was able to identify it as a tissue. Sam stopped walking for a moment to blow his nose into the tissue, Miles skirting around him and patting him on the back as he did so.
Bumblebee felt his spark sink low in its chamber. He had noticed that morning that Sam appeared more sluggish than usual but the teen had brushed off his concern and said he would be fine. It seemed that Sam had been wrong, however, as it was now even more obvious that something was wrong with him. Bumblebee hadn't even been on Earth for a full month yet and had spent hardly any time around sick humans, though he had seen plenty of them on various human media. He knew some illnesses could last for little more than a day and that others could be life threatening and that, most worryingly, it could be hard to tell when one would be serious.
Sam and Miles made their way over to Bumblebee, Miles heading to his driver's side and Sam to the passenger's. Sam tossed the keys over his hood to Miles, the other teen catching them and then opening his door so he could toss the backpacks in the back.
"Thanks again for driving me," Sam said, a little too loud to be casual.
Bumblebee knew it was more for his own benefit than to actually thank Miles again. Primus, his charge had to be even worse than he thought if he didn't even feel like driving. All Sam had to do was appear to pay attention to the road and keep his hands on the steering wheel, as Bumblebee himself did all the actual driving. He'd let the teen drive him before when he was still playing non-sentient, and he could easily let Miles take control as well, but it wasn't exactly a fun experience and he didn't know this other boy or his driving skills well enough to trust him.
"Yeah, yeah." Miles brushed his thanks off, slipping into the driver's seat. "You owe me, though. I get some of Judy's awesome chicken noodle soup."
Sam made a sound that could have been a snort but it was hard to tell as it ended up in him sneezing into his own hands. Bumblebee barely stopped himself from shuddering because as much as he adored his charge it was undeniable that there were many things about humans that were simply disgusting. The boy promptly wiped his hands on his jeans and then opened the passenger side door, climbing into his own seat.
"Gross, dude." Miles made a face as he put the keys in Bumblebee's ignition.
Sam disregarded this with a wave of his hand as Bumblebee dutifully started his engine when Miles turned the key. Bumblebee had to actively remind himself to play non-sentient with Miles in his interior because there was a long list of things he wanted to say to his charge at that moment and a good chunk of it involved just how little he cared about preventing the spread of germs. He could get better and then get himself sick again, easily spread it to Miles, or even spread it to his own parents.
"Mikaela would have kissed me better by now even with my germs," Sam grumbled as he pulled his hood up over his head and sank down low into Bumblebee's seat.
Miles took a moment to adjust his seat before fixing the rear view mirror and the side mirrors. Then he moved Bumblebee's gear shift into reverse and half turned in his seat to peer out the back windshield. Bumblebee was quite impressed, even before Sam had realized he was sentient he had never been so careful driving. Miles even waited until he fully reversed out of Bumblebee's parking spot and put the gear shift into drive before he bothered to respond.
"We tried that in seventh grade, remember?" Miles flashed a grin over at Sam, "You found out you were definitely straight and I never thought I had a crush on you again. Sure, you're cuter now, but not cute enough to catch the plague over."
Sam laughed and then groaned, putting a hand over his forehead. "Ugh, don't make me laugh. I think my head's about to explode."
Bumblebee just barely stopped himself from slamming the brakes down because this was bad. Sam's head was about to explode? How much pain must his charge be in? He scanned the boy quickly, picking up a raised temperature and secretions that showed he was sweating despite looking like he was freezing. If his head was going to explode—but no, he had to remind himself to calm down. It could be just one of those hyperboles humans loved so much, he'd simply look up the disease Miles had mentioned and assuage his fears that way.
A quick search for the plague did the exact opposite. Sam was—
"It's alright, bud." Miles put on a reassuring tone, "We'll get you home so you can die in peace."
Sam was dying.
"Thanks, Miles." Sam sneezed again, this time into the crook of his elbow. "I'd like to be sent off among loved ones. Maybe give me a few of Mojo's pills so I don't feel anything."
Sam was dying. If he hadn't been in his alt mode Bumblebee would have started to leak coolant. His brave, little organic was going to die. The one who had defeated Megatron, who had saved his beloved leader, who had tried to protect Bumblebee himself from Sector Seven, was going to be defeated by some insignificant human disease. And here he was holding himself together, putting on a brave face for his friend and Bumblebee. Sam was so considerate even when he was suffering so much.
Bumblebee was utterly helpless here. He held no magical cure for his friend. He had only bothered to look up a bit of human medicine, because he was so used to Ratchet taking care of all of— Ratchet! He could take Sam to Ratchet, because surely the medic would be able to think of something to help him. Either Ratchet could make it so Sam passed painlessly, or Ratchet could maybe even help extend Sam's life a little so he could say his last goodbyes in peace. And this way Sam could die among those who honored him.
He had to get Sam to Ratchet fast, then, if he had any hope. Sam was already leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes, letting out a long, wheezing sigh. Obviously this plague was extremely fast acting and he had little time. There was Miles to consider, as so far the teen had absolutely no idea Bumblebee was anything more than a normal car, but Bumblebee hardly cared about that—it meant little for him to reveal the existence of the Autobots if it meant he could make sure his charge died peacefully with as little pain as possible.
A few days after Mission City, Ratchet had outfitted all of the Autobots with a sleeping gas that they could release through their ventilation systems in special situations. The medic had detailed it was meant for when a human was seriously injured, in shock, or too aggressive for some reason. Bumblebee figured it would be appropriate to use it now to help Sam relax some and to ensure that Miles wouldn't start to freak out when Bumblebee took back control, so he slowly started to leak it through the air conditioning vents. He even turned the fan up a notch to spread it throughout his interior faster.
Miles wrinkled his nose after a moment, "Something smells funky, dude. You might want to check for a leak."
Sam made a big show of taking a sniff through his clogged nose, "I dun' smell anythin'."
It took three minutes, most of which was spent at a red light, for Sam to start to doze off. The two organics inside of him had spent it mostly in silence, Sam already having his eyes closed while Miles seemed content to not make his friend's headache any worse. At five minutes his charge was fully asleep and Miles was yawning. Bumblebee kicked the AC up another notch and released a bit more of the gas. Seven minutes and Miles seemed to realize something was wrong as his head continued to dip downwards, but he was addled by the effects of the gas. He pulled Bumblebee off to the side of the road and managed to get a hand on the gear shift to put Bumblebee in park before he too went out and his head fell forward against the steering wheel.
When Sam woke up he didn't recognize the ceiling he was looking at. His head hurt, his throat was sore, and despite having just opened his eyes he was still bone tired. He was tired enough that just the thought of panicking made him ache even more, but then he took a second to take stock of his surroundings and realized he didn't have to panic at all. The ceiling was far above his head and Ratchet could be heard nearby, softly talking in Cybertronian. He must be on the newly built Autobot base, but how he had gotten there and why he had no clue. The last thing he remembered was climbing in Bumblebee after school let out, and…
"Bumblebee," Sam groaned out, calling for his guardian.
He already knew something had gone horribly wrong if he was here, because the last time he had been aware of anything Miles had been sitting right beside him.
"Sam!" Bumblebee appeared in his line of sight seconds later, leaning over him. "It is good to see you're awake."
"Explain," Sam ordered—or tried to, but his sudden coughing fit covered up the command in his tone.
Sam sat up on what he realized was a large metal berth and Ratchet walked over to him, offering him a glass of water and some kind of pill. Sam took the pill without question and then downed the glass of water. He took a quick glance around and realized he had to be in the medbay; there were four other berths identical to the one he was on, all sized for Autobots up to Optimus' size, and he could see a work bench with a bunch of tools on it. Bumblebee remained oddly quiet, so Sam quickly turned his attention back on him.
"Bee?" Sam prompted.
Ratchet answered for him, "Bumblebee was fooled by human hyperbole and brought you here in a tizzy convinced you were dying."
"Oh, Bee," Sam sighed. "What was it, Miles saying I had the plague or me saying my head was going to explode?"
"Both," Bumblebee admitted, the door wings on his back visibly lowering in what Sam knew was embarrassment.
"You should have known that my mom wouldn't have even let me leave my house if I was really bad," Sam chided him gently. "She's even worse than you are with the mother henning."
"I had to make sure!" Bumblebee put a servo on the berth next to him, "I couldn't risk it."
"In Bumblebee's defense, he's still pretty new to the guardian protocols." Ratchet took the empty glass of water from Sam, "They manage to override a lot if a mech isn't careful, including logic."
The way Ratchet stressed that word made Sam realize he had forgotten something important.
"How did you get rid of Miles?" Sam asked.
Bumblebee glanced away and Ratchet audibly snorted.
"Please tell me you didn't break the news about the Autobots to Miles because you thought I was dying," Sam begged.
"I didn't," Bumblebee comforted.
"Oh, thank Go-"
"He was just also in my interior when I used the sleeping gas to ensure your comfort, so I simply brought him along with you." Bumblebee finished.
Sam stared at him in horror, "What did you do with him?"
"I put him in the barracks," Bumblebee said. "But don't worry, I have asked Captain Lennox to handle him."
"Better than Epps," Sam decided.
Ratchet came back over with something in his servo and Sam felt the blood leave his face as soon as he saw it.
"How do you feel about an IV to ensure you stay properly hydrated?" By the tone of Ratchet's voice the question was obviously rhetorical.
"Negative," Sam squeaked.
When Miles woke up he didn't recognize the ceiling he was looking at. He blinked at it slowly and then sat up, stomach sinking as he took in his surroundings. Part of him had hoped that he would be in a hospital, but this didn't look like any hospital he had ever seen. He was in some sort of bedroom, lying on one of the two beds placed inside of it. His water bottle was on the nightstand next to him, but outside of that his backpack and phone were missing. The last thing he could remember was feeling weird in Sam's car and he thought he remembered hearing a strange voice, but it had been distorted and staticky.
It took him a few minutes, but Miles gradually came to the only conclusion that he could: he had been kidnapped. He spent a long time just staring blankly at his feet, trying to piece things together. What had happened? Why was he here? He had been with Sam, but Sam was no longer with him, which meant they had been purposefully separated. Why? For what purpose? What could someone want with two teenagers?
He stood up and went for the door, disappointed but unsurprised to find that it was locked. He turned around and considered the only other source of information: the windows. The blinds had been drawn and so he kneeled down next to one window and pushed one corner up so he could peer outside. Almost immediately he saw people passing by, all of them in military uniform, and way too many for Miles to risk trying to slip out one of the windows and making a run for it.
Miles did about the only thing he could do at that point, which was go back to the bed and sit down and think some more. After a little more thought, Miles figured that whoever had taken them had probably only wanted Sam. He knew Sam had gotten involved in something big a few weeks back, but Sam hadn't offered to tell and Miles had been smart enough not to force the issue with how jumpy Sam and his family had been. Most likely the kidnapping had been premeditated, and Miles had just been an extra surprise for them. Not pressing the issue was definitely biting him in the ass now, when he was God knows where and Sam wasn't with him anymore.
What could Sam have been involved with that made the military want him? And what would they do to him? Miles felt sick to his stomach just thinking about all the terrible things that could be happening to Sam right at that moment. What could he even do in a situation like this? He wanted to defend himself, but what could he really do with all those people outside? Most of all he wanted to help Sam, but how could he hope to do that?
Miles looked around the room for any kind of inspiration and his eyes fell on the lamp next to the other bed. He made up a list of pros and cons in his head of putting up a fight versus just letting what happened happen. While he thought, Miles stood up and went over to the lamp and put a hand on it, testing the sturdiness of the metal base that it was composed of. He unplugged it from the wall and hefted it in his hand, testing the weight of it and giving it a swing.
He might not be able to fight, and it might be ultimately futile, but he could still hurt one of the bastards who had done this to him and Sam. The chances of them letting him live seemed too slim to entertain, and if he got really lucky, he might even be able to hit a few of them before he was taken down.
Decision made, Miles quickly made a lump under one of the blankets using the pillows that had come on both beds to make it appear vaguely human shaped. Then he went over to the door and placed himself in the corner so that when the door opened into the room he would be initially blocked from sight. He wasn't sure how much time passed before he heard a key being placed into the lock and the knob turned this way and that.
Miles stood perfectly still as the door was opened. From his vantage point he was able to look through the crack in the door opening and was relieved to see just one white military man with a scowling face. He waited until the man took another step in the room before he stepped out of his hiding spot and slammed the lamp he was holding down on the back of his head. The man went down like a bag of bricks and Miles had to swallow past the thick lump of bile in his throat—torn between hoping that he hadn't done any serious damage and that this man would never get up again. He quickly dragged the man inside the room and shut the door again.
He took a moment to catch his breath and considered the unconscious man in front of him. Miles hadn't dared to hope for such good luck: not only had he actually managed to knock one of the bastards out, but they had been stupid enough to only send one to his room in the first place. First he rolled the man onto his back and then he began to relieve him of his military uniform, but he paused when he saw the gun strapped to the man's belt. Miles stared at it for a long second before removing the holster and carefully taking the gun out of it so he could put both beside him, and then he took the man's pants off to leave him in just his briefs. Miles used the man's belt to tie his hands around one of the legs of the bed. He took a hair tie out of one of his pockets and pulled his hair back into a tight ponytail before taking off his own clothes and putting on the man's military uniform. It was a bit too big on him but hopefully it would be enough to help him blend in.
He removed his belt from his pants and pulled it tight through the loop of the pants he had stolen, attaching the holster to it. He picked up the pistol, careful to keep his fingers far from the trigger, and checked to make sure the safety was on before he put it back into the holster. Miles had never fired a gun before in his life but figured the threat of it would be enough to get him out of a tight spot or two. Lastly he stooped and removed the set of keys from the man's hand, pocketing them before leaving the room.
He passed room after room as he looked for the exit. A lot of the doors were open, letting him see rooms identical to the one he had woken up in, which led him to assume he was in the barracks. It only brought up more questions, but he didn't think anyone was going to be nice enough to just offer him an explanation. He reached the clearly marked exit and almost expected it to be locked or to have an alarm, but when he pushed it open nothing happened. He left the barracks and looked around, but he didn't recognize any of the buildings near him.
Without any real plan outside of finding Sam, Miles wandered. He stopped dead in his tracks at the first person he saw walking towards him, a black man in a military uniform. He contemplated going for the gun but wasted precious seconds agonizing over the decision, giving the man ample time to walk up to him.
"New to the holoforms, huh?" The man offered him a grin and clasped him on the shoulder, "This one's pretty realistic, but it's a bit baby faced. Might want to make yourself look older next time." He then pinched Miles' cheek, "And you definitely need to work on those facial expressions. You look like you're about to shit a brick!"
Miles didn't know what to say. The man stared at him expectantly.
"I will take that into consideration," Miles mumbled.
The man grinned again and nodded before continuing on his way. Miles quickly resumed walking as well and didn't dare look back at him, but he couldn't help wondering what the fuck was wrong with that dude.
Sam looked up from his book when Ironhide stormed into the medbay with Will in his servos. Sam was surprised to see that the soldier was dressed only in his underwear, and that while he was actively bitching about Ironhide's less than gentle treatment his voice was quieter than usual. Ratchet was immediately at Ironhide's side and he helped Will onto the berth next to Sam's; Will allowed Ratchet to maneuver him for all of a few seconds before he slapped at a digit poking him in the side and glared at the medic.
"Just scan me," Will gritted out.
Ratchet's optics spiraled outward and a blue light shined from them and scanned down over Will's body. Sam knew from experience that the scan itched like hell, and Will made a face but didn't protest.
"A mild concussion," Ratchet diagnosed. "Nothing I'm sure you didn't already guess."
"What happened?" Sam sat up fully, careful of the arm with the IV that he'd let Ratchet and Bumblebee talk him into. "And why are you only in your underwear?"
"Your little friend attacked him and stripped him," Ironhide spat, optics locked on Will.
"He what?!" Sam cried and Will winced at the volume. "Sorry, but, what? Why would Miles…?"
Will turned his head to glare at Bumblebee, "You know, I was wondering that myself. And then a thought struck me: what were the chances that when Bumblebee told me to handle him it was because Bumblebee himself hadn't told him anything at all?"
"Wait…" Sam blinked, "So…"
Bumblebee shrunk down as everyone else turned their attention to him. He lowered his helm and widened his optics, doing his best to make himself look as pathetic as possible. It only seemed to work on Ironhide, who visibly deflated and stopped running one servo along the cannon on his other arm.
"He hadn't woken by the time we got here so I just put him in that room and locked the door to make sure he wouldn't wander out and get scared," Bumblebee admitted.
"I'm going to dismantle you," Ratchet decided.
"Awe, give 'im a bit of a break, Ratch." Ironhide cajoled, "He's new to the guardian protocols and they win out over some of the other stuff, you know that!"
Ratchet muttered something in Cybertronian that had Ironhide taking a hasty step back and Bumblebee edging behind Sam as if to use him as a shield.
"How about I go ahead and send out a warning?" Ironhide suggested to appease him, "And this way we can see if anyone else has seen him."
"Miles actually thinks he was kidnapped," Sam moaned. "He must be terrified!
"So he went on the defensive and attacked the first person to walk in his room," Will guessed. "Well, I'm definitely not mad at him for doing it, but damn does it suck to be on the receiving end."
"I didn't know that would happen!" Bumblebee tried to defend himself. "How could I guess that Miles would think he was kidnapped?"
"He was kidnapped!" Ratchet snapped. "You took him somewhere against his will, locked him in a room alone, and gave him no information! His last memory would be passing out in his friend's car because of unusual reasons and then he woke up in a room he didn't recognize!"
"Had I known he had zero introduction I would have been far more careful going in," Will rubbed at the back of his head with a wince. "Last thing I expected was to get assaulted and then tied up."
Bumblebee lowered his helm even more, the picture of embarrassment and guilt, "I thought Sam was dying, so I was more worried about him."
"Okay, this is…" Sam scrubbed at his face, "Not great. Why the hell did he strip Will, though?"
"To try and blend in, probably." Will sighed, "He might have looked out the window and seen others in fatigues or he might have assumed that if I was in them others would be, too. I'd feel a lot better about this if he hadn't taken my gun, too. Did you get any response, 'Hide?"
"Yes, Epps said he saw him." Ironhide's optics darkened, "Hold on while I call him, I'll just put him on speaker."
"Hey," Epps' voice came from Ironhide's mouth. He was laughing.
"This is no laughing matter," Ratchet reprimanded him.
"Au contraire, my friend." Epps' continued to chuckle, "This is one of the funniest fuckups I've seen to date. Will got taken out by a teenager and I-" Epps had to pause to take a deep breath, "-I assumed he was a holoform! I literally patted him on the shoulder, pinched his cheek, and told him he needed to work on his facial expressions because he looked like he was about to shit a brick."
Sam put his head in his hands, "Oh my God…"
"As soon as I can stand on my own two feet I'm going to kill you," Will warned. "See how you do with a surprise attack, you asshole."
"How in the Pit did you think he was a holoform?" Ratchet inquired.
"We have three new mechs on base," Epps pointed out, "And it's not like I knew Bumblebee kidnapped teens for fun."
"Can we please stop calling it that?" Bumblebee pleaded.
"No," Sam, Ironhide, Will, and Ratchet responded.
"Last I saw he was heading towards the cafeteria," Epps informed them. "But that was around dinner rush, so I figure he probably avoided that place."
"Thank you," Ironhide said shortly and then he hung up without bothering with a goodbye.
Ratchet turned to Bumblebee, "You are going to explain this to Optimus all on your own."
"But I'm going to get the Lecture," Bumblebee actually whined. "Or worse, the Look! The 'I know you can do better and I am very disappointed' Look!"
"You brought this on yourself," Ratchet was unmoved. "You know how human speech is."
Miles felt like he was getting insanely lucky. Most of the people he passed, men and women alike, didn't glance twice at him. He did his best to stay out of the most populated areas and kept his pace slow and unhurried, which seemed to help him blend in more.
He stopped when he heard a loud voice drifting from out of an open window.
"—And that Witwicky kid!" The man growled, "After what his little pal pulled, I hope Ratchet is torturing him."
He closed his eyes and hoped that Sam wasn't paying for him attacking that one military guy, but just that one sentence told him the harsh reality. He took a deep breath and went for the door of the building, walking in to see that one wall of it was taken up by a large control panel with multiple screens above it. There was also a police car for some reason, which made Miles feel even worse to see. Both the military and the police were in on this? Whatever slim hope he had been holding onto evaporated, but he still peered into the windows to check if anyone was inside before turning his attention to the man standing in front of the control panel.
"Right?" The man snorted to whoever was on the other end of the phone he was holding, "And now I have to try and find the brat on these cameras."
This was the man who had mentioned Sam's name, oblivious to the fact that someone else was now in the room with him as he talked away on his phone. Unlike the other people Miles had seen, this man was wearing a fancy suit and had a large watch on one of his wrists. He took another deep breath to steel himself and then he removed the gun from the holster and flicked off the safety before he aimed it at the man's back.
"Turn around," Miles ordered.
The man did so with a scowl, but that disappeared as he caught sight of the gun. His phone clattered to the ground.
"Where's Sam?" Miles demanded.
"Lower that," The man snapped at him. "This isn't what you think-"
Miles raised the gun and fired a shot into the ceiling. The bullet made a loud noise as it hit one of the metal support beams and ricocheted off of it. The man flinched violently when the bullet cut his cheek on it's return to the ground and the front of his pants darkened as he wet himself. Miles stared at the man as blood began to drip down his cheek and the man looked at the shrapnel at his feet with wide eyes, obviously startled by how close of a call he had just had.
"I-" Miles started, but quickly shut his mouth.
His first instinct was to apologize, but he told himself not to feel bad for this stranger. Not when he had sounded so happy about Sam being tortured by whoever the hell Ratchet was, and not when he had been looking for Miles on those cameras. He had meant it as a warning shot, uninterested to hear anything the man had to say if it wasn't telling him how to get to Sam, and he hadn't even looked to see if the bullet might ricochet before he had fired it. He had completely forgotten that was even a thing.
His hands felt clammy and Miles tried to subtly put the safety back on, suddenly uncertain of his grasp on the gun. There was a loud grinding noise from his right and Miles turned his head slightly so he could look and he watched in growing horror as the police car shifted and rearranged. The final result was something vaguely human shaped that towered over his head and it put a hand down between him and the man in the suit.
"You should leave now, Ambassador Simmons." The robot suggested.
Miles' view of Simmons was blocked by the hand, but he could hear the man run out of there and slam the door. He knew Simmons yelled something but he couldn't comprehend what he said at all, his entire attention taken by the thing in front of him. He carefully looked the robot over and tried to figure out if it could even be hurt. He kept the gun trained on it just in case, but it didn't seem worried in the least. Then again, this was a robot. Could it even feel scared if Miles was a threat? How was he supposed to know?
"My name is Prowl," Prowl informed him. "And this is a very big misunderstanding."
Miles grit his teeth, "Pretty hard to misunderstand a kidnapping."
The room suddenly felt too hot and too small; Prowl was far too close for his liking. He didn't want to know this thing's name. He didn't want this thing to be humanized at all, to make him hesitate. He doubted he could hurt it, but if he had to—he didn't want to feel bad about it, not like he did about Simmons.
"I could take you to Sam," Prowl offered.
Prowl moved the hand that was at ground level towards him and Miles tried desperately to think. Only two options came to mind: he could drop down on his knees and put his arms over his head, which would serve to protect his head and make him bigger and harder to hold so he could unfold and try to wiggle out later, or he could put the muzzle of the gun to his own head. But he didn't actually have two options, did he? This thing could probably squash him with a squeeze of its hand if it wanted to, and he wanted to know if it wanted him alive before it put a hand on him.
He pushed the safety off and put the muzzle of the gun to the side of his temple as he stared the robot down. It's hand stopped moving immediately. There was a large rush of air from it, and the blue eyes widened almost imperceptibly, as if the thing was surprised he'd dare to go so far.
"Please do not," it said.
"So you want me alive," Miles noted. He tried to keep his hand from shaking, "What do you want from me and Sam, huh?"
"You have no reason to trust me," Prowl lowered its voice, obviously trying to come across as gentle. "But I would like you to listen to me," Prowl raised a hand and pointed at a symbol on his chest, "You recognize this, don't you? This same symbol is in Sam's car."
Miles squinted and realized that Prowl was right. The first piece of shit Camaro Sam had gotten and the new Camaro Sam had now both had that symbol right in the middle of the steering wheel. And what was that supposed to mean? That Sam had been involved in this for a few days longer than Miles had assumed?
"So what?" Miles scowled, "Sam's car is like you?"
"Exactly!" Prowl nodded. "And of course he knows about us."
"And I should believe that why?" Miles scoffed, "I got that phone call about his first car and it didn't sound exactly friendly."
"Ah…" Prowl blinked and the blue of its eyes darkened momentarily. "Yes, the Satan's Camaro call. Hmm, I have to admit, I am not quite sure of how to convince you of the truth. Even if I had Sam brought here and he told you, you could just assume he's being forced to say it so you won't hurt one of us."
Miles stared at it. It stared back. Miles no longer knew what to do.
"I was kidnapped," Miles told it needlessly.
"You were," Prowl agreed. "So I can see why you have done what you have done up until this point."
Prowl's tone was soft, reassuring. Miles didn't want to let himself be reassured. He didn't trust this thing in front of him, but he didn't know what to do next. They were at a stalemate: Prowl was reluctant to make a move when Miles could shoot himself and Miles didn't know what to do to get away from the robot.
But then a hand grabbed onto the one he had holding the gun, pulling it away from his head and startling him badly enough that he accidentally pulled the trigger and fired a shot into the wall. A body pressed into him from behind as Miles struggled to take control of his hand back and he fought back a scream because there was no way anyone could get behind him without him seeing them and he didn't understand what was happening or how. His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest and took the chance to slam his head backwards but then the rest of his body was following and he felt the weird sensation of going through something warm and slightly viscous as it parted around him and he landed on his ass.
He stared in horror at the creature in front of him, something that looked human but had managed to disconnect the two halves of its body to reveal red muscle and white bone and a beating heart just so Miles could fall through it. The two halves reconnected and it turned towards him.
"I couldn't allow you to hurt yourself," Prowl's voice came from both the fake human in front of him and the robot and Miles—
Miles' vision narrowed on Prowl's human form and he⸻
When Miles next came to awareness, he could feel himself moving. He tried to piece it together with his eyes still closed: he was lying on something hard but that seemed to be made up of separate parts, some of the separations digging into his skin. His legs from the knee down were dangling off of whatever it was. He moved slightly and realized he was being encapsulated to a degree, because when he edged right he could feel something press up against that hip, and when he shifted left he could feel something press up against his ribs.
"You suffered from a vasovagal syncope episode," Prowl said. "I have been reassured that there should be no ill effects, though you may feel dizzy with any sudden movements.
The voice came from above, but it still sounded closer than it had before. Miles opened his eyes and realized that he was being carried by Prowl. What he could feel pressing up against him were Prowl's… fingers? Did they count as fingers? He felt nauseous, and he used one of Prowl's maybe-fingers to push himself up.
"It would be best if you didn't struggle," Prowl suggested. "I do not wish to drop you, the fall may hurt you."
Miles didn't bother to respond, instead peering over to judge whether it was worth it or not. Prowl didn't bother to stop him.
"A…" Miles sat back and turned his head up to look Prowl in the face, "A vaso what?"
"The common term is fainted, I believe."
Miles grimaced and decided not to say anything in response. He didn't want to risk upsetting the robot and getting squished because of it, which meant almost any option he could think of towards escape was rather limited. He settled down to do the only thing that he could: wait to see what would happen.
Sam looked up when the medbay doors hissed open and was relieved to see Miles be carried in by Prowl. His friend looked a little pale but no worse for wear, though the scowl on his face told him that things probably hadn't been explained properly yet. Miles' gaze went from Optimus, to Bumblebee, to Ratchet, to Ironhide, to Will, and then he finally saw Sam and narrowed his eyes.
"How do I know that's even Sam?" Miles narrowed his eyes, "You robots can make human forms."
"You are correct," Prowl smiled down at Miles, which Miles couldn't see with his back turned to him. "We are quite capable of copying a human's form, but there is no way for us to know everything a human knows. Why not ask him a question only he would know?"
"Oh," Sam blinked and sat up straighter, wracking his brain for the easiest thing to tell Miles that would convince him. "We met-"
"You told me how you two met," Bumblebee reminded him, Miles' face darkening. "I know his favorite color, food, and preferred music, too."
"Thanks, Bumblebee." Sam said sarcastically, but it flew over Bumblebee's helm and his guardian just gave him a happy wag of his door wings. "Uhm…"
"Mikaela wants something specific for your month-a-versary. What is it?" Miles demanded.
"I told you that in confidence!" Sam hissed, blushing. "There's no way I'm going to say that out loud in front of everyone here!"
"Then I don't trust you," Miles responded.
"Oh my God…" Sam wasn't sure who he hated more at that moment, Bumblebee or Miles. "Prowl, bring him here."
Prowl obliged and walked over to the berth Sam was sitting on, lowering his servo so Sam could move over and whisper in Miles' ear. Almost instantly Prowl's optics darkened as he looked up the new term and Ratchet snorted and attempted to cover it up with an exvent, letting Sam know that at least those two had heard him. Any future embarrassment was worth it because of the way Miles practically fell out of Prowl's servo to hug him.
"Sorry, buddy." Sam hugged Miles back as best he could, "I know you must have been scared out of your mind, but no one here means you any harm. There's just a very long introductory lesson for you in the future."
Miles half turned so he could look at Will, "Which I guess means I'm very sorry."
"I blame Bumblebee for my mild concussion," Will reassured him. "No ill will towards you at all."
"And I guess I should apologize to the guy I made pee his pants, too."
"The guy you made what ?" Sam gaped at his friend.
"He stumbled across Ambassador Simmons when he was complaining about Samuel and Bumblebee on the phone," Prowl explained. "He demanded to know where Samuel was and Ambassador Simmons didn't tell him, so Miles fired off a shot with the pistol he stole. The bullet ricocheted off the ceiling and ended up cutting into Ambassador Simmons' cheek and that is when the man urinated himself. I stepped in after that."
"Holy shit," Will whispered, staring at Miles reverentially.
"You did that for me?" Sam asked, oddly touched.
"I couldn't just leave you behind," Miles shrugged, obviously embarrassed.
Sam had never questioned Miles' loyalty before, but it was one thing to know he was a good friend and another completely to know that if they got kidnapped that Miles would do his level best to find him and get them both out even at risk to his own life. Somehow he had found himself with two ride or die friends and he knew he was extremely lucky because of it. Sam hugged him again.
"Please tell me that it was somewhere with cameras?" Will turned to look at Prowl.
"I have already clipped the file and will send it to the email list," Prowl assured him.
"Simmons is an asshole, so you don't have to apologize to him." Sam patted Miles on the back with a grin. "Can't think of anyone better for that to happen to."
"Sam," Optimus reproached. "Ambassador Simmons' behavior has vastly improved since we first met him." Then he turned to Prowl as well, "But I would also like that file sent to me, please."
"So is that how you finally got caught, then?" Sam questioned, "Showed yourself to shoot at someone and got nabbed?"
"I fainted," Miles made a face.
"Saw Prowl there and hit the deck?" Will commiserated, "Must have-"
"Actually," Prowl cut in. "Miles did quite well with seeing my bipedal form. I believe it was the holoform that was the final straw. Not only did it appear behind him when he was aware that no one had been there previously and that no one could get there without his noticing, but I also dispersed some of the nanites so he would fall through me so I could get him away from the gun."
"And what does that look like?" Will raised an eyebrow.
Prowl brought out his holoform and then showed them. Will stared with wide eyes at the red muscle and gleaming white bones while Sam turned his head and did his best not to throw up.
"Did you have to make it so realistic on the inside?" Will frowned.
"That's completely unnecessary, dude." Sam agreed. "No wonder that made Miles freak."
"And he fell through that," Will shuddered.
"At the time I was more preoccupied with getting him away from the gun he had been pointing at himself than-"
"He was pointing it at himself?!" Sam turned his head, "Miles!"
"I thought I had been kidnapped and there was a giant robot reaching for me!" Miles rolled his eyes, "I figured since I was still alive I had to be wanted alive, which was proven correct when I pointed the gun at myself and Prowl stopped trying to grab me."
"It was fast thinking," Prowl agreed. "And I was quite impressed by his thought process for the entire thing. Had I been in his peds—or shoes, I suppose—I believe I would have reacted much the same. He also showed remarkable loyalty to Samuel in trying to find him, which is very impressive. It is unfortunate that Captain Lennox and Ambassador Simmons suffered because of it, but who could blame Miles for following a logical thought process?"
Prowl sounded almost fond, and Ratchet and Optimus both gave him major side-eye for it. Ironhide and Bumblebee, who had already fallen sway to a human, understood it far better and looked at Prowl with glee. Sam shared a look with Will, clearly remembering Bumblebee complaining because Prowl hadn't taken much to humans yet, seeing most of them as illogical and cumbersome. From the look on Will's face he was obviously thinking along the same lines.
"You like him!" Ironhide accused.
"I do," Prowl admitted. "He's the only human so far."
Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing at the baffled expression on Miles' face. Will leaned over the space in between their berths and patted Miles on the shoulder. When not in battle or direct threat of battle, getting the Autobots to stay on track was like herding giant kittens. At the rate things were going, it would be a while yet before Miles got a satisfactory explanation for the day's events.