Started: 28th August 2022
Edited and Finished: 29th August 2022
Uploaded to A03: 29th August 2022
Uploaded to Fanfiction: 9th October 2022
This is so cringe-
He was happy.
He truly was.
But not here.
Bumblebee bit his glossa with his denta and straightened his posture, forcing another polite smile on his faceplates and tried to look like he was enjoying himself.
'This is meant to be a reward for all you and the others did in the war, don't be ungrateful, it's just some fireworks.' He thought in his head again.
He mentally berated himself when he realised that his smile had faltered and a bot or two looked a bit confused when they looked at him, thankfully they paid it no attention and turned back to the beautiful light display. Bumblebee was still getting used to this smiling stuff after not having smiled for at least a few eons, Tyger pax has that impact on— Tyger Pax
He shivered slightly, those words still brought up bad memories.
BANG
A louder firework crackled and sprang to life spewing blue and red colouring into the dark sky littered with stars.
Bumblebee swore he nearly had a spark attack. It took everything in his power not to whimper like a sparkling. He noticed he started to quietly hyperventilate and quickly put a stop to that as well as he could. No one noticed. He'll be—
But the shouts. The cheers. They were all cheerful but Bumblebee couldn't help but imagine them in his head as screams of terror and the fireworks as bombs raining down on innocent victims. He felt sweat drip down his forehelm and he raised a shaky servo to wipe it off. He was— fine. The word felt foreign. Why did it sound wrong? Why did it sound wrong!? He couldn't help but let out a muffled whimper.
It was so bright. Why was it so bright?
Windblade, who was stood next to him, nudged him in concern and—
It wasn't Windblade nudging him but a decepticon shoving him to the ground and holding him still while—
BANG
It wasn't fireworks but bombs crashing into everything in their sights—
The decepticon— no no it was Windblade, she was there, she is his friend…but she's gone?
He started to hyperventilate, where'd she go? What if a bomb hit her or she was taken hostage or—
It only felt like he blinked but suddenly he felt himself on the ground. It was cold. So cold. Some bots around him looked down in concern and reached out to him, they looked familiar yet so scary and different.
Suddenly those bots near him were pushed aside and Windblade and another bot— Ratchet, he'll be fine, Ratchet's here! Wait..why was Ratchet here? Is he dying?
He felt like he was suffocating, tears suddenly broke loose and fell down his faceplates, he was knelt on the ground.
Ratchet knelt down as well and was speaking to him. What was he saying? It sounded weird, he couldn't hear it. Or could he? It was almost like he was underwater.
It was quieter now, thank Primus it was quieter. Then he looked up past Ratchet at what felt like thousands of optics looking down on him. Some had— Oh Primus no. Some have red optics. He felt himself murmur something incoherent. He felt his own plating shaking in fear. He buried his faceplates in his servos.
Suddenly strong arms from behind embraced him. He was gonna die. They had him. He was gonna die. He couldn't breathe. They had him. Why is it so dark?
He whimpered again and buried his helm in the shoulder of whoever was holding him. Then he was brave enough to look up. Blue and red plating. Soft— not red but blue— optics looked down on him in…concern?
Then it hit him. He was in the arms of his Sire. His friend. His leader. His co-worker. Optimus Prime. He was safe. He was fine. The words felt less foreign to him now.
He shuddered and in a static laced voice he let out a pathetic, "Optimus?"
"It's okay, Bumblebee, it's okay I'm here." Optimus said, Bumblebee managed to hear every word.
His shaking calmed as he had strong arms around him. He was safe. His vision cleared as the tears stopped flowing so much. Optimus was here. His hyperventilating slowed.
He hiccuped slightly, he then rested his helm on Optimus' shoulder again and then was brave enough to turn his helm enough to see the other bots.
He started to match designation to faceplate. They weren't deceptions. They were his friends. His fans. His teammates. His students. His family.
He felt pathetic but none of them looked angry or disappointed, they all shared one of either expressions— sad or concerned. He suddenly felt very small.
"What happened?" He managed to weakly question.
It was Ratchet who answered.
Huh?
Oh.
Right.
He remembers what PTSD is now…the bane of most of the mechs (and femmes) who served in the war's existence.
What was he panicking about again? Bombs so many bombs. He shivered and shook his head.
He looked back at all the familiar faces, "I'm sorry," he mumbled guiltily, "I didn't mean to ruin the party."
Instantly voices started up in retaliation.
"No, Bumblebee, are you alright?"
"Don't be sorry 'Bee"
"It's not your fault!"
"Will he be okay?"
"You didn't ruin anything!"
"Enough!" Ratchet huffed over the crowd's loud noises, Bumblebee was thankful for the interruption, as sweet as everyone was being, it was just too much.
Blades stepped forward, "Hey uh— 'Bee do you wanna um…go back home? I uh- the party was getting a bit much for me too"
'Bee almost blushed, Blades was too sweet…
Smokescreen was next, "Me too! Too loud if you ask me…"
Bumblebee understood what Smokescreen was trying to say perfectly, he was a youngling who grew up in the war too. Smokey definitely wasn't as exposed to the war as 'Bee was but he still got feelings like that too.
Sideswipe stepped forward and shrugged "The party was fun but even I felt a bit overwhelmed!"
Strongarm moved from next to Sideswipe, "Yeah, I'm not a big fan of parties, too wild."
So many other bots where there: Jazz, Hot Rod, Perceptor, Whirl, Drift, Grimlock, Wheeljack, Prowl, Rack and Ruin, Arcee, Chromia, Heatwave, Boulder, Chase, Bulkhead, Cheetor— and so many others.
And there were former deceptions too: Knockout, Shadowstriker, Shockwave—
So many. So many bots.
Even more that he didn't recognise.
They cared.
They cared for him.
He was safe.
Optimus listened to the suggestions, "How about we continue the party but change it a bit, but it's still a celebration: high grade allowed, dancing allowed, everything allowed but we get rid of fireworks, too much shouting and lights too bright?" Multiple bots nodded or spoke in agreement. He looked down to his former scout, who had managed to stand shyly by his side.
Bumblebee let a genuine smile ease its way onto his faceplate, "I'd like that, I'd like that a lot."
