Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.

Thanks for the reviews guys. I love you all. Enjoy. ^-^

Chapter 13

The low whirling of Ironhide's cannons had become a near constant over the last eight orns. Not that any of the other mechs really blamed him for it though. Sunstreaker hadn't recalled his blades since the ground fell out from under too little yellow feet just as Sideswipe hadn't. Jazz was twirling one of his throwing knifes around his fingers. Ratchet kept scanning every fraggin' six klicks.

And Optimus, well, the rifle still smoking in his hand had had a full charge a few orns ago. It didn't anymore.

Sometimes it was a little comical how often others seemed to forget that Ironhide wasn't the only itchy trigger among the command staff of the Autobots when his emotions were riled. There was some relation between the Prime and his older brother after all. Megatron—back when he went by another name—had been the one that raised the younger prince after all. He was bound to have picked up a few of his less then marketable traits.

Not that he went about admitting to it all that often. It wasn't something the mighty Prime could in no way hide form those he'd known almost his whole life though. For these were the mechs—apart from the twins—that hand been at his side before the world fell apart around them under his brother's anger. These were the mechs that had stayed at his side through all the pit that had come to the next.

That had taken the brunt of so much of it because they had refused to leave that place. They were the mechs that had been beside him fifty vorns ago when they found their little bundle of trouble in the middle of a desolate battlefield.

It was all of that that let the towering red and blue mech fume as he was doing now. Standing on a ridge of sand squinting out into the biting wind and sun reaching out with a gift he very rarely had the chance to use anymore.

What he had inherited with coding was not the same as what lived inside Bumblebee. His ability to feel a tad bit more than what others did and call it a gift was nowhere near the level at which Bumblebee had been able to do when he still fit in their palms.

Now, there was no comparison to it at all.

The little yellow mech had him hopelessly out matched in the area of reaching out with his spark. So there was the very obvious problem. He was reaching with as much as he was able, and getting nothing in return.

There was no bright plus coming back at him. No bubbly warmth and happy shine he had grown so use to over the last handful of vorns.

Bee had simply vanished. Under a swirl of red sand and shifting stone. The sink hole closing up after him leaving them digging at nothing but sand for far too long. It had taken Jazz's furious hissing that they finally realizing going in after him wasn't going to work. They were simply going to have a find the tunnel outlet and get him out that way. After they found him.

If they could.

With an echoing growl rolling through his chest, Optimus shook the thought away. Optics narrowing even more against the wind and the emotions in his spark.

They would find him.

They would.

It didn't matter that there were thousands upon thousands of miles of uncharted caves and caverns hidden under the desert sands. Ranging from the every changing mazes the Sand Sharks carved to the swelling heat of the tunnels The Smelt carved.

To put it simply they were looking for a gain of sand among all that that shifted around them, and it was taking them too long.

Far, far too long.

Nine orns now, as the sun rose high in the sky above him. Nine orns since they'd lost him.

Optimus knew in his spark that the little mech was still breathing. They'd all have known it if he wasn't, but that didn't mean he was safe. It was no guarantee that he would stay alive for very long. Not with every bream they didn't find him his odds sank faster and faster.

Hand tightening around the hilt of the blaster clutched in his hand the towering Prime turned east. Looking through the rising morning and the direction they had been walking for too long now.

He knew nothing about the Sea of Rust.

At least, not anything about it that really mattered.

Not enough to know where to go or how things worked. In fact, the only ones of them here that did right now were Ironhide and Jazz. Which was why they were the ones calling the shots at the moment.

No matter how much not being in control of what was happening around him was driving him insane.

The world won't ever be what you want it to be, Orion. It's time to suck it up and accept that.

The Prime flinched at the remembered words and the voice of the mech they belonged to. Back from a time he still talked to his brother. Back from a time he was still someone else.

Shaking his head hard he squeezed his optics shut to dismiss the thoughts. He didn't need them right now. He had too much else to worry about.

Besides. He grumbled to himself. You're the cause of all this, Megatronus.

"Optimus," The familiar shared voice calling up the dunes pulled Optimus attention making him look back over his shoulder to find Sideswipe and Sunstreaker standing at the base of the hill of sand. Turning toward them he headed down to meet them. Knowing that if the pair had left Ratchet's side then Hide and Jazz must have found something.

Reaching the bottom of the dune he flicked his optics over the tired, stressed silver faceplates of the twins before giving them a nod and motioning forward. They fell in beside him explaining as they walked.

"Jazz says it's a Sand Shark tunnel. There is apparently nothing else it could be." Sideswipe started as they walked.

"It's why the paths keep shifting." Sunstreaker added in. "He isn't quite sure how close it is, but Hide says at least one air hole has to be around here close."

"Jazz says we find that we can get in."

"Problem with that is, their thousands of feet deep."

"Sharks don't like unexpected visitors."

Optimus let out a hard breath as they neared where the others were working. "Any change in the comms?"

"No." Sunstreaker shook his head. "Storms still blocking the signal, but it can't keep up for much longer."

"Before long we'll be able to get a call though."

"We'll have to." Optimus growled out. "Our fliers are the only chance we've got of getting down there."

His head was still spinning more then he wanted to admit, but at least trailing after Dustoff didn't take all that much effort. Wardrums had stalked ahead after he spoke to him. Engines rumbling sounds that Bumblebee could only interpreted as frustration and anger.

For a little while he'd stalked out there in front of them Bee had been watching the slightest twitches his long, broad, strong wings were doing from where they lay against his huge dark back.

He hadn't the slightest idea in the world what any of the little movements meant, but watching seemed like a good way to try and figure it out. Just like it seemed a good way to try and pretend that had just happened . . . hadn't.

The young yellow mech was still not sure what to make of what had happened. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. He most certainly didn't want to ask the only thing that could probably give him an answer. Considering the damn gold 'cat' inside his head was the one that did it in the first place he was pretty sure he was justified in that feeling.

Made sense to him at least.

That didn't mean he wasn't rattled though.

Because oh no, he was rattled.

His breath was still uneven just as his finger shook the slightest bit whenever he uncurled the tight grip he had them in. Worse than all that though was how much his spark hurt.

Burning wasn't the right word, but Bee didn't know what else to call it.

It was a hot ache down the very center of his being. Like a part of himself had revolted against something and then slammed itself shut. He could almost feel the hard press of bars around the pulsing orb of life that was his spark.

Problem with that though, was he wasn't sure if he had put them there or if . . . well Star did.

He wasn't sure Star could do that. You know, considering he was supposed to be a figment of his imagination, but for a figment of his imagination he sure seemed able to talk out loud.

Like that was okay let alone normal.

Well no thank you strange fraggin' voice inside his head he was not okay with it. He did not like having something else take control of his fraggin' frame and speak through him!

His doorwings flared, fluttered angrily, hiked up high before he managed to get them pinned back down again. Forcing his winglets to unpin from the lower section of his back. Trying with everything inside him to keep his plating from flaring in pinning it both fear and anger.

Fifty-five vorns old and he felt like a quivering sparkling.

He wanted to run and hide.

To cower away in the safety of strong arms and warm sparks. He missed his carrier and his sire. Though to be honest he didn't miss how loudly they along with everybot else were going to yell at him when he finally found his way back. Let alone what they were going to do when they saw who he was trailing along at the heels of.

Somewhere inside him he knew that this wasn't going to go well, but his only chance of getting out where Dustoff and Wardrums. Besides, he sorta . . . well liked Dust. He seemed wise in a way that none of the rest of his family was.

Sure, some of the smartest bots Cybertron had ever produced were part of his family but Dust was so . . . old. The very energy inside him was older then even Grimlock.

Bee wanted to follow the big medic around with a datapad and ask him every question under the sun. He wanted to know why it was, how it was they were related more than anything else though. He just hadn't quite worked up the nerve to do so yet.

That and the voice inside his head started talking out loud which kind of put a damper of his outward curiosity for the moment. He figured he'd have time to ask questions later anyway. Because even though War seemed to hate the very air he cycled through his vents Bee was pretty sure this wasn't just going to be a drop off kind of thing.

Not if he had anything to say about it that was.

The heavy tread of the massive mechs walking through the dark tunnel ahead of him brought him back to the present and he found himself padding quietly beside the sheer rock shaking steps that were the other two set of steps.

Craning his neck up the little yellow mech striped in black looked upward toward Dust's pale faceplate and his light red optics. Either the movement or something else alerting the helicopter. With a twitch of his long bladed roters he tilted his head down just enough to catch Bee's hold.

"Yes, mechling?"

"I didn't say anything." Bumblebee shook his head.

That pale faceplate lifted slightly in response to the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips as the old mech chuckled. "You didn't need too. Those doorwings speak for themselves."

Bee paused half a step, frame twisting enough to glance over his should to find his doorwings were lifted higher again. Spread out at the tips in an open kind of hang where the tips pointed out and the tops pointed in. Held about the middle of his back in an easy way.

Oh.

He hadn't even known they moved after he forced them a still not a moment ago.

"They do?" He wondered which got him a heavy snort from the even bigger black mech walked ahead of them. Snapping his gaze around again to look the shuttles way he found Wardrums didn't so much as look back at him after he let out the derogatory sound. Nor did he bother to speak. Yet somehow, that snort spoke for itself. The sound enough for Bee to sink down on himself and closer to Dustoff.

The helicopter mech narrowed his optics slightly to his mate's back but said nothing in response to him. Instead, he let out a tired breath turning his attention back to the young mech. Wardrums was spinning internally just as Dust was. The difference was Dustoff handled it far brother then his dear other half did.

This was not the time for the two of them to start hissing out fearfully at what they had heard. That would come later. Probably after War had his hands around the foolish Prime's neck.

For now, Dustoff would worry about keeping the mechling calm and War would be his normally giant aft of a self. That was nothing new.

"Yes, mechling." He rumbled out drawing the youngling's attention to him again and not at the tenseness of his mate's back. "Do you not know this?"

"I know wings portray emotion." It took a moment but Bee finally answered him. Those bright optics of his glancing upward again. "I'm not very good at controlling mine, or reading them. Prowl is trying to teach me, but well we haven't gotten very far."

"Prowl?" Dustoff questioned, mind working over what he knew about the Autobots. If he was right that was the eldest Praxian they had saved. Flamewar was keeping tabs on the bots that had taken her charge away from her. Not that she would have ever kept Flare Up from her brother once she found him again, but that didn't mean the dark femme didn't miss the young life she had saved all those vorns ago. When memory flashed through Dust he went on before the mechling could speak again. "He is the black and white Praxian among the Autobots, yes? The tactician if I am not mistaken."

"Yeah." Bee chirped, wondering how it was Dust knew that while he also wondered if he should know that. Lying about it didn't feel right though. Not when the big medic had been kind to him and they said they would take him home. "Yeah, that's Prowl."

"A Praxian is teaching you frame language." Wardrums' deep voice thundered in front of them. "How inadequate. Well, that explains a lot."

Bee's plating tensed slightly but he kept his voice level as he shot back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, mechling." Dustoff cut in, glaring hard at War's back while they kept pace behind him. "He is simply being an aft. Eventually you will get use to that."

"But what's wrong with Prowl teaching me doorwing language? It's not like there are a lot of wings around the Autobots you know?"

"That stuffy breed wouldn't know frame language if it smacked them upside the faceplate." War grumbled back. "That is why."

"Oh yes, War." Dust huffed at him. "Because their entire culture in Praxus was not based off of frame language or anything like that."

"Their interpolation of it." War retorted. "Not the base of it. You will never truly understand wings until you go back to the beginning. Not that that matters though, because for that to happen you must use them. No grounder will ever be capable of that."

"And whys that?" Bee snapped, said wings hiking up high on his shoulders, tightening together and puffing straight up.

"Because you can't fly." Those fire optics burned over his shoulder with a twitch of his head but this time Bee wouldn't back down from it.

"Well, duh, what the slag does that matter?"

It matters because of coding, you ignorant little glitch, but I'm not going to tell you that. We might be able to get away with it. It might not happen to you. I've never been that lucky though.

Wardrums bit the words off his tongue instead just letting out a low growl in response while he turned on last corner meeting the suddenly glow of sunlight with both a welcome relief and a tired ache. He knew there was nothing he could do to change how any of this would go but that didn't make him any more willing to put up with it.

And when he got his hands on the slaggin' Prime he was going to turn him every way but loose. His claws already itched to plating. For what he should have done vorns ago. If he'd listened to his instinct long ago known of any of this would have happened.

Granted, the royal family would be extinct, but the truth of that matter was they should have died out when The Fallen turned on his own kin. When the Guild fell from within. When Prui and Pritum followed Iceeia to death. When foolish younglings who couldn't even read the history they got their grubby hands on twisted the truth into myths and took every sensible thing away from it.

When they turned a pair of brothers into gods. When they turned the Guild into a berth time story.

When they forgot where they came from and what they really were.

When Wardrums and Dustoff faded out of time and were left to rust in the pits of this slaggin' world.

Not for the first time the old shuttle wished he wasn't the last. That he'd fallen with his troops and his brothers-in-arms. That the first war had taken him like it should have and not left him standing here alone in the dark trying to fix what he didn't break. Trying to undue a too proud creator's mistake.

There was nothing for complaining about any of it though. There was now nothing left but to pick up the shreds of what was laying around him to try and save what sibling jealously had brought to their race.

He should have done it when the Youth Sectors went down in flames.

He should have done if when the Functionalist rose to power.

When their race started kill each other over frame differences.

Well, probably all the way back to when Iceeia died. That was when he probably should have stepped up and shoulder more of what was going on around them. Put down the title of soldier and took up something that would have kept thirteen spoiled brats in line. If he had maybe none of any of it would have ever happened.

Maybe . . . well maybe he'd still have Mercy and this little yellow thing trailing after him wouldn't have never been born. For if he'd stopped what he knew was coming back then Shootingstar never would have died because likely Deathtoll never would have fallen.

There would be no need for the young life behind him doomed already to a fate that couldn't be changed.

Wasn't that the kinder option in the long run? Wasn't that better then what would come?

Bumblebee had never been so happy to see sunlight.

When the bright rays of glowing warmth reached out from the world above into the inky blackness of the tunnel he didn't wait another moment. He sprinted forward toward the sky. Past the amused helicopter and the huffy shuttle to break out into the light for the first time in orns.

A happy, bubbling laugh left him before Bee even knew what he was doing. Reaching the sunlight he threw his arms out to the side, doorwings spreading wide and high, spinning around in a tight circle on the tips of his toes as he threw his head back and laughed. Optics wide open taking in the brightness around him. It didn't matter that there was nothing but lightly blowing red sand in every possible direction.

It was the most amazing bit of nothingness Bee had ever seen in his whole life!

In the middle of all his celebrating he missed the two massive mechs standing together in the arch way of the tunnel entrance that made even the two of them look small watching him dance around in a circle.

He missed the quiet words Dustoff murmured to his mate. "By the powers, he is just like her."

"Bite you tongue." Wardrums hissed back at him under his breath. Optics narrowed as he watched the young mech spin. He couldn't deny it though.

No.

For Dust was right.

"Refusing to admit it will not change the truth, War." Dust sighed, twisted his head enough to glance at the larger shuttle.

"You know the truth." War shot back. "The truth is none of it even matters. In the end, it was all for nothing. All of it. It was for nothing."

"It matters, my spark." The words were quiet and full of pain. A pain that War didn't want to hear, wanted to fix, but didn't know how to change it. "It matters."

"So that's your brilliant plan?" Ratchet glared up at the silver mech perched on the top of a sandy rock looking down into the bottomless hole below them.

See, Ratchet—unlike the idiot up there on the rock—was staying well back from the giant gaping hole. He could see well enough just how deep a drop that was from way back here. He had no interest in getting closer. Getting closer meant he had to think a little too hard about how far Bumblebee must have fallen before he hit ground.

It meant he had to think about how hurt he might be. Laying somewhere waiting for help that was taking too long to get to him.

Jazz didn't so much as glance over his shoulder as he glared down into darkness of the hole. "It's jump or wait for the comms to make their way through. Even then we'd have to wait for them to find us. We've spent too much time waiting."

"Look, Jazz-mech." Sideswipe started from where he and his twin were keeping close to Ratchet. "I've done quite a few stupid things in my life, a good portion of which have been for Half Pint but jumping down there to land in a million pieces isn't getting him help."

"This is stupid." Sunstreaker growled, optics narrowed at the darkness below them. "Even if we didn't break into bits when we hit the ground and miraculously weren't horribly injured in someway there is no way to know he's even anywhere near this tunnel."

Bright optics narrowed behind his visor Jazz finally turned with a glare. "I'm open to better ideas at this point."

"We could try his comms again." Ratchet sighed quietly, already knowing that there was no point. If they couldn't even kept comms through this sand storm back to the ship there was no way the audio waves were going to travel down there. Just as even though they each kept reaching with their sparks they couldn't get a feel of him. He was just too far away.

"If he was close enough for comms to work in this storm we'd be able to feel him." Ironhide rumbled, dark optics locked out on the red blur that was the world around them. His plating was still bristled as it had been since he lost sight of his son. A testament to just how upset the huge warrior was.

The set of his jaw was enough.

Hide had always had a bit of a bad habit when it came to grinding his teeth. It was something he picked up back when he was alone in life trying to raise a high strung little brother. One he'd never seemed to let go. Not that his life had gotten any less stressful over the vorns or anything like that though.

It was a habit of his old friend's that Ratchet was more then use to. He'd been doing it the orn he met him out here in these very shifting sands and here he stood doing it as well. For if there was one mech among them that truly knew the desert it was Ironhide.

Jazz was just as much tribal as Hide was but the difference there was that Jazz had been raised as a Prince among a Tribe that fought for territory and kept a home region. Ironhide had been a member of one of the nomadic tribes.

He'd spent his whole young life and a good portion of his younger maturity traveling this sands every orn. He knew the way the desert shifted, how it moved, and how it breathed. Alive like any other creature.

He knew the creatures that though war had diminished were still clinging to life here and there among the endless sands. He knew the dangers that lay in the shadows and the way this world out here worked.

He knew they were running out of time.

"We can't jump, Jazz." Optimus deep baritone pulled all the focus. The towering Prime standing at the hole's edge gazing down into the ink below them.

"Sand sharks do not make easy entrances." Ironhide rumbled back at him.

"Then we find a way in that isn't made my Sand sharks."

"Few creatures are dumb enough to make use of their tunnels let alone alter them." Jazz replied.

"War has made us all desperate, Jazz. I think we might find ourselves surprised." Optimus responded, hoping against hope that he was right.

"So, runt." Wardrums deep drawl pulled Bee's attention up from his basking in the sunlight. "Where are your poor excuse for caretakers?"

Expression twisting up in annoyance the little yellow youngling glared for a few nanos before sighing. "We were following the sun."

"Well that's a direction at least." The shuttle nodded. "Any idea where you fell in at?"

"A while back. I walked a long ways, but the tunnels did so much twisting and turning I don't know."

"Sand sharks like mazes." Dustoff agreed. "Helps them catch their food."

"Which you would have become if we hadn't come along." War snorted turning himself toward the morning sun.

"You mean there are still sand sharks alive?" Bee asked, hurrying up to keep up with the long steps the two huge mechs could make. He tucked himself back in to Dustoff's shadow again following the path War took forward.

It didn't escape his notice how much more work it was for the two of them to walk in the sand. So much more of it shifted under their weight. Causing both of them to half to steady themselves more often than either of them seemed to like.

It made Bee wonder why they didn't just transform and fly. He was small enough he could ride along with Dustoff, that's not to mention that a shuttle War's side could carry probably the whole patrol that came out here with no problems at all. He could carry Bee and not even know he was there.

He had a feeling asking questions about that would be stupid though. Wardrums didn't seem the type of mech willing to haul others around. Let alone him, considering he didn't even seem to like Bee.

Following after them, mindful of how their weight would shift suddenly or they would curse at the slide of their bulky forms seemed better than getting snapped at for asking stupid questions. Things had been okay so far, but he still hadn't quite figured out what the make of Wardrums.

Bee was almost positive now that it had been worry in those fire red optics. He didn't have any idea why there had been worry in those optics, but he was pretty sure that there had been.

He supposed now as he trialed alongside Dust that it would make sense that the huge shuttle would care a little bit right? Why would he bother going to all this trouble if he didn't?

As far as Bee was concerned it didn't make any sense.

So he figured assuming that Wardrums might care just a tiny bit wouldn't be too far from the truth. After all, Dust said that it was War's sister that had been his birth carrier.

Bee knew deep down that coding and energon meant very little to some bots. Megatron was the perfect example of that.

He'd killed his own sire, started a war, and was currently still trying to kill both his younger brothers. He wasn't the only one the war had divided down the middle though. There were many other families that this damn civil war had torn apart.

"Of course, there are, mechling." Dustoff's amuse chuckle broke him from his thoughts. Drawing his attention back to the towering mech beside him.

"It will take more than this war to kill them all off." Wardrums rumbled. "Starvation is going to be the only thing that gets them, but then they'll start eating all of us before that happens. Wouldn't be as if that was something they haven't done before."

Bee stumbled a bit at those words, but quickly caught himself as well as he could. Trying to make it look like he'd just tripped in the side of sand around Dustoff's huge feet and not over that thought hitting him a little too hard.

"They . . . uh . . . eat bots?"

War snorted. "Everything with sharp enough teeth and the bearings to try it can eat whatever they please. Just because we think ourselves above it doesn't mean we aren't part of the food chain."

"The Tribes were the only thing on this planet that ever truly respected that, War." Dustoff replied. "That truth died out with them. Civilization thought itself too powerful."

"Shows just how fall they have fallen. Just how much they have forgotten."

"Forgotten about what?" Bee asked.

"Where they really came from." Dustoff replied.

"You mean like from the ancients?"

"No mechling," Dust shook his head. "I mean like from different worlds."

He stumbled again and this time did nothing to hide it. He was too busy whipping himself enough to stumble along sideways much to the amusement of Dustoff to stare up at the big flier. "Say what now?"

Wardrums let out a long, tried, hard breath though his vents. The force great enough that when it came out of his back-shoulder vents it rattled his wings. Or at least that was what the big mech was blaming it on. It was not because of such great disappointment flashing through him that he lost his careful control of his wings.

No.

Not at all.

"By the stars, what are they teaching mechlings these orns?" He grumbled, lifting a hand to rub over his lined faceplate.

"Apparently not much." Dustoff shook his head sadly much to Bee's confusion.

"But, what, I don't get it! What do you mean from another planet? You mean we're not from Cybertron?" Bee rambled as he hurried to keep up with their stride.

"Yes, runt." War snapped with a glance over his shoulder. "That is just what we mean. If you knew a damn thing about the correct history of the universe you would know that. Just as you would know about the Knights and the Colonies. But no none of that is real. It is all nothing but myth!"

"Umm . . . ." Unsure how to ask more Bee glanced between the two fliers. Turns out he didn't need to say much more than that because Wardrums was on a roll.

"No bot seems to wonder how myths came to be. Or if they were real. Or what it was that made this world full of things to keep us alive. Or any of the rest of it! No bot seems to want to bother to use their own processors anymore and question anything. All any of you can do now is bicker between yourselves with blasters and call it a war. You fight over frame type and optic color as if they mean a damn thing. None of you know war you don't know even know the meaning of the word."

His engines cycled with a roar as the powerful thrusters mounted between the long wings at his back started to glow red hot with the power kept inside them.

"None of them have seen war. Not real war. They don't know the things we did to get this world. They don't know the slag that has happened only to be lost by the passing of time. They shoot each other over broken laws and sibling squabbles and call it struggle. They kill each other over something as petty as revenge. They have no idea and they never will because no one wants to bother to question any of it!"

"It is hard to question what you never have the hint of wondering." Dustoff said softly back at him watching the youngling while the youngling watched War. "When enough want it all to be forgotten it is not hard to accomplish it. Not with what happened to the siblings and the Guild."

"They let themselves be forgotten because it was easier than pay for their mistakes." War growled, optics blazing as he recalled things better left in the past. Because the repercussions of it were trialing along at his heels like some lost turbo pup.

For really, what else was the runt but that?

Blindly following a path laid in front of him he hadn't even realized was there enough to question. That might be starting to change though.

Neither War or Dust had any misunderstanding about what they had witnessed. They knew there had to be some kind of tie to keep Trickster and the other interested. For the Guild never really died. Not in the way that most would think. For as long as the thing they embodied existed so would they.

That was what happened when two mechs too smart for their own good started playing with cosmic powers they didn't understand. They'd been attempting guards to protect their creations and all other creations for eons to come.

Dealing with the other side of the Divide was never that simple though. One would think their race would have learned that when one world died around them. They hadn't though and bots of their race came into being breaking all laws of nature bound to creators that were not there's and would therefore never care for them quite enough.

Oh if they had only known the destruction that would cause.

War doubted it would have ever stopped the Guilds creation, for even if he hated to admit it they did actually need the cosmic balance they brought. He simply wondered what difference it would have made in all of it if the Guild could have had had more than just creation and tossed to their tasks.

"Who is the Guild?"

The words rattled War and Dust both back to the matter at hand. Leaving them both to twist and stare down at those insanely bright blue optics. The pair of them stopping, wondering silently between each other as those big optics blinked up at them.

They'd known he wouldn't know.

There was no way he could know. Not with how Trickster, Impulse, and Evermore fought to keep it all a secret. Even now, as the question tumbled from his lips Wardrums could feel the shift in the air.

It was something that to a bot that hadn't lived as long as he had, seen what he had seen, and known the Guild sense their creation would have failed to notice. War noticed though.

He could feel the energy shifting along the air. The cackle of underlying power not yet in use but humming with possibility.

The feeling of focus from an unnatural kind of power. Something that was hard to define and even harder to understand. Normally that specific taste of energy was Trickster. He was the one that tended to get the most enjoyment out of making War's life a living pit.

He was watching them and he wanted them to know it.

It was likely he or the other two had been keeping an optic on the youngling this whole time. No doubt they were happy he was out here looking for something that tied into their power and would without a doubt strengthen the thing swimming inside that young spark.

War wanted to punch at least two of them. Not all three of them though. Punching Evermore was pointless. She was too fraggin' terrifying, and she could probably hand him his aft on a shining plate if he tried it.

War might have been the greatest general their race had ever known but he wasn't too proud to admit that.

There was a reason Evermore had no balance partner after all.

Wardrums had felt the Watchers attention enough times to pick apart their energies. This was Trickster's focus and by the feel of him he was in no way happy with the way this conversation was going. The youngling asking such loaded questions and he was not yet to know the answer to them.

Knowing the Guild, the consequences for defying their wishes in that would be extreme. Wardrums didn't have time for extreme right now. He was too busy trying to prevent global genocide.

Not that it was his fraggin' problem, he was just the only one that sorta knew where he and his mate left the damn thing all those vorns ago to hide it from Deathtoll and the Fallen in the first place.

In his defense, it had seemed like a good idea at the time to hide it away in tunnels that were always changing as to make it nearly impossible for anyone to ever find it again. Turns out his plan worked a little too well.

"The Guild?" Wardrums echoed the young mech, optics gazing down into such bright curiosity. There was such a fine mind behind those optics. He did not need Dustoff's better social skills to understand that. He could see the potential just as his other half could.

The difference was that War would not dilute himself into thinking it would last. It couldn't last. He'd lived too long in this forsaken universe to know that it was true.

"They are nothing but stories to the likes of our kind now. They were destroyed, nothing for you to worry about right now." Turning away again he ignored the flicker of blue and black far out among the sand dunes around them followed by nothing.

Apparently, his answer had sufficed.

"Oh." Bee muttered still trailing along beside the towering mechs. His spark clenched uncomfortably in his chest. Some feeling gnawing at the back of his mind that said he was missing something.

He just didn't know what it was.

It was worth tucking away though, to look at later he supposed.

"Well what about the other stuff you said. The Knights, what's that?"

"We are what is that." Dustoff said warmly to him. The faintest smile curling up his lips as he glanced down to the little mech. "What we use to be I suppose. It's hard to be the last of something, young one, and still know what to call it."

"The last of . . . ?" Bee mumbled.

"Time erases that which enough do not want to remember." Wardrums answered. "We are one of those things."

"But why would bots wanna forget where we came from, or what you were?"

"Because it proves every aspect of your religion handed to you by bots that couldn't even read what they were preaching wrong." War gritted his fangs against the audacity of those that had taken power over his world while he was trying to put it back together from the shadows. He should have known better to leave the creators left behind to their own devices.

Maybe all of this could have been avoided if the majority had known what the pit they were doing.

"I don't . . . understand." Bee said softly.

"We don't expect you too, young one. That will take a great deal of time. Time we at the moment do not have." Dustoff offered him, pale red optics lifted to gaze out over the sands before him.

"What do you mean?"

"He means there is your Prime." A flick of a long, broad wing had Bee snapping to attention. Optics growing wide and bright as a happy gasp left him.

The he was off.

Racing forward as fast as his short legs could carry him. He couldn't see the distance War and Dust could but all it took was a scramble up a few sliding sand dunes before he skidded to a stop atop one. Doorwings flaring wide, optics growing bright, and a smile lighting his young faceplate as he gazed down at the sight below him.

There standing in a loose circle through the blur of blowing sand arguing among themselves as per normal stood his family. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's bright forms closest to him standing near Ratchet as they threw their arms around in response to whatever it was they were growling at Jazz. The silver saboteur stood before them with Ironhide's large hand wrapped around his shoulder to keep him still as he growled back at the frontliners. Optimus stood behind them all staring down into what looked like one of those massive holes to the surface he had stood at the other side of not long ago.

Spark giving a hard, happy pulse inside him he yelled with all his might.

"HIDE!"

The six mechs went very still for half a nano then as one all of them twisted. Gazes snapping up to find Bumblebee standing there alone atop a sand dune.

The grin across his lips had to be ridiculous but he didn't care. Instead he just let loose a happy laugh as he watched those shades of blue widen at the sight of him. A few mouths working quietly over what seemed to be his name before he bolted. Tripping over his own feet more than once as he ran hard down the hill. Arms wind milling to keep his balance as half slid half ran down the slope of sand. Giggling the whole way as he pitched himself down the bottom. Only making it half another stride before he jumped and found himself caught up tight in thick, strong, cannon wielding black arms.

In a blink he was burrowed. Still giggling for all he was worth as he found himself crushed tight to a barrel chest.

Warm.

Safe.

Like he hadn't been in orns.

Clutching as hard as he could he wrapped himself tight up in that thick chest. Fingers finding familiar grooves in thick plates of armor. Letting himself be squished tight enough that it kind of hurt to breath but not caring one damn bit for his was squeezing back just as hard. Reaching out internally for the pulsing ball of life on the other side of that strong chest. The one that reached right back.

Warm, welcoming, and oh so relieved as it clutched just as much as its owner's frame was doing. Taking him in and wrapping him up as tightly as all of him could. He found himself rocked slightly back and forth as Ironhide pulled him impossibly tighter to his chest. Yanking him up fully off the ground—he kind of had to considering how much smaller Bee still was—to wrap him and keep him safe.

That broad faceplate burrowing down into the soft cabling of Bee's neck as Bee pressed his own rounder face into the center line of Ironhide's chest.

It was only after his bubbling laughter started trailing off that the little mech finally picked up on the other sounds going on around him. The first being Ironhide's rumbling voice echoing all around him as he simply stood there holding his son mumbling his name over and over again into the soft cabling and protoform of his neck.

Bee purred at the sound, snuggling himself closer as he pulsed to his adopted sire. Calling back and pulling close in every way he could think of as he was swung back and forth.

Finally, with another short chuckle the youngling pulled himself back just enough to tip his head back and catch sight of Hide's relived optics when his sire did the same. Those dark blue optics sparkling as his faceplate creased in a smile the likes of which the old mech very rarely showed.

Bumblebee grinned right back, baby blue optics glittering as he giggled. "Hey Hide."

"Bee," Ironhide purred back at him before yanking him closer again and nuzzling his head. "Primus, little one, where have you been?"

"Well," Bee muttered, pulling back again only to be snatched up from dark arms and yanked away. Ironhide's growl was ignored as Sideswipe got a hold of him. Yanking Bee close in a crushing hug that was shared between him and Sunny.

And with that Bee found himself passed around. Not that he minded with each mech took hold of him and pulled him close. Spark bonds flaring back to full use and strengthening the links between them all. He was squeezed to Jazz and Optimus each for a long moment before Ratchet finally got a hold of him. Holding him tight before pulling back to get a look over him.

Bee felt the familiar tingle of scans waiting for the moment the CMO would notice. It didn't take but a blink before he found himself placed down and shoved back at arm's length for the medic to run his optics over him.

Taking note of the patches and such that Dustoff had done in the soft blue light of a crystal cave. Out here they looked even louder. Dark grey patches and welds against bright yellow plating that honestly had seen better orns.

Bumblebee was scuffed and dented on just about every inch of him but when the others noticed the work that Bee in no way would have been able to do on his own they all paused. Coming closer with happy, open emotions from before snapping closed faster than a slime eels' jaws.

"Bumblebee?" Ratchet gruff voice questioned, leaving Bee to stare back up into that oh so well know faceplate as he shrank a little.

"Well uh, see I sorta found some help."

"Help?" Ironhide growled, cannons cycling quietly only to roar with a sudden surge of plasma into them when a deep voice echoed over the wind. Snapping all six mechs' attention up to the dune their youngling had slid down. Only to freeze tight when they caught sight of the truly colossal forms easily making their way down the tall hill. To them it was nothing more than a few lifted steps while Wardrums growled.

"Help? No, I wouldn't call me that." The shuttle let his voice match the angry pitch of his flight engines. The sound making Bee turn in a flash, optics widening at the sudden change he found in both of the old mechs.

Wardrums had been grumpy to downright mean the whole time he'd known him, but never Dustoff. Now, as the helicopter medic walked as his mate's side his pale red optics glaring with an anger that Bee had never seen before. An anger that made him shrink back despite himself only to yelp suddenly when Ratchet's grip suddenly tightened.

The little yellow mech then found himself shoved back behind the medic's frame. One hand still gripping him tightly even while the twins closed in around the bright medic. All Bee could stare at though, even around Ratchet's side, was Wardrums as he stalked closer and closer to his family. Growling out thick, angry words while his optics locked on Optimus.

Optimus who tightened before the rest of his family. Plating clamping down and flaring in different places. His back straightening and his shoulders rolling. His hand clamping tight around the plasma blaster that before had hung limply in his grip at the sight of his little mechling.

All the ease and happiness was gone from him now. Replaced by what Bee almost thought might be . . . fear.

"One thing." Wardrums snarled. "I told you one thing. One simple thing. One easy instruction. Keep him out of my desert, and you couldn't even do that. You slaggin' bastard! Do you have any idea what you've done!?"

And then with a flash of movement Bee almost missed he had the Prime by the neck.

So yeah, War is very upset. That's kind of justified though. Considering he knows the price that must be paid.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. It was swiftly edited because this weekend has been crazy, but I wanted to get it posted for you all. So forgive my mistakes. There are probably a few.

I'm looking forward to what you all thought, so let me know. I'll see you next time when we find out if War snaps Optimus' neck or not. Fun right? ^-^

See ya'll later!

-Jaycee