Combustion

Well I just have to say an amazing WOW to all the people who submitted a review. It was amazing to get so many of them. Evidently chapter 2 was a success despite my doubts, and chapter 3, well I just have to say a BIG thank you to DANIA who gave a critique worthy of a Movie of the Week review :) It was amazingly appreciated!

Of course I don't expect a huge review :) it was just a nice surprise!

I also just wanted to put in a little note warning that my reference for Transformers is relatively thin… My memories of the cartoon are faded to say the least (I mean come on I was practically a baby!) and the movie doesn't really delve much into the background :) Just be forewarned!

Thanks also to the people who commented positively on the way I did Mikaela. I'm not one of these people who thinks that in order to make a slash pairing more realistic you need to turn the canon characters into total bastards. I think if the clues are there already you just need to run with it.

Also, I am NOT a Sam x Bumblebee x Mikaela fan… though I've occasionally read a nice piece, so this will not end up being that pairing/ménage a trois :)

Also – be forewarned – this is a LOOOONG chapter… I had to make it long in order to fit Optimus in… cos I know people were getting antsy when I didn't put him in the last one. I'd be receiving hate mail if I hadn't kept going until I fit him in this chapter:)

Anyway, the bug bit, I have to scratch.

Chapter 4

To a human, Bumblebee knew he had travelled a great distance after leaving Sam at the lookout, definitely far enough to long have left the boy's range of sight. In autobot terms however, he hadn't gone far at all. He couldn't. Since they had first met, he had never voluntarily let Sam out of his sensor range, and he had no intention of starting now. He needed a break though, time to think and then speak to Prime away from the human's influence. That didn't mean he would ever forsake his responsibilities or commitment however, and even though he was trying to get a little bit of space between them almost every scanner he had was tuned back towards the clifftop. They were powered up to the highest level they could sustain across the distance, enabling him to even detect the motion of the dust stirred by Sam's breath. Unfortunately his cellular scanners were no good at that range, preventing him from searching for airborne, viral and bacterial threats, though his risk assessment had determined that threat was unlikely to occur in his brief absence. He felt a slight discomfort however, at going even as far as he had. So as he crested the ridgeline he halted, where the elevation enabled his optics to pick out Sam in the distance, without needing to rely solely on the scanners. He calculated his position again, double and triple checking, before concluding that he could be beside his human in only 3.6 seconds if needed. For a machine who normally calculated reaction time in the milliseconds however, it didn't stop it feeling like an enormous margin for error. So he sent out his call to Optimus, hoping the Autobot leader would not be long, and then settled down to wait, watching Sam pace back and forth in the distance, and wishing he was there.

He didn't really have a choice at the moment, he needed the clarity he couldn't get when they were both together. Being around Sam consumed an enormous amount of his processing capability, every single bit of data relating to him analysed and stored in case it was ever needed. The boy practically consumed every 'sense' he had at his disposal, from the sound of the blood rushing through his veins, to the scent that seemed to fill the air. It had been the realisation of that fact, of the sheer amount of computational power he had set aside simply to ensure Sam's wellbeing, which had confirmed for his logic processors what his spark had already known. He was rapidly developing an obsession with his human ward, and evidently had been for some time.

The idea had been mildly repulsive at first, Sam was a human, an organic, and after millennia fighting a war between cybertronians it had been easy to allow the data concerning non-robotic life forms to deteriorate. He had forgotten the mess, the smell and the noise that was required for the sustenance of a flesh and blood creature. A computer could strain until its circuits fried, and all you would hear would be the minor electrical background hum. And right up until it was destroyed and released a cloud of acrid smoke, there would be absolutely no smell. Here it seemed everything released a sound and a scent that, while probably background noise for the planet's inhabitants, was an assault on his unprepared sensors.

Oh he didn't feel any particular hatred, as the Decepticons did, but the idea of becoming attached to something so fleeting, so messy, and so fragile, had been… unappealing. He had staunchly refused to acknowledge it, and had he been just any robot, he probably would have either erased or ignored the data as simply an errant line of code. But he was not an ordinary robot, he was a sentient one, and at their core, Decepticon and Autobot alike, rested their spark. The life gifted to them by the allspark, that had given them the power to go from merely robots, into an empire. That had made them capable of emotions such as love and friendship, and also given to them the concept of hatred and deceit.

It seemed a bitter pill to swallow, that the cause of this ancient war and destruction of their planet now wouldn't let him forget something as simple as a brief interest in an organic being. Like a human heart, its previously constant energy fluctuated and beat within him every time Sam was close, every time they touched, every time they spoke. His probability calculators had spent almost every hour of every day running over scenario after scenario, until he'd practically forgotten what it had been like to not have it playing out in his head.

It had been obvious then, exactly what was happening to him. It had been obvious when he stopped using enhanced scans and filters to observe Sam, and started looking at him through the same limited optic range as humans. It had been obvious when he'd noticed things about his human that he had previously considered flaws, slowly turned into endearing quirks. It had been even more obvious when he started downloading and comparing vast amounts of data on human physiology and appearance, so he would have a frame of reference for why Mikaela called Sam 'cute'. Nevertheless he had fought it, denied it, tried desperately not to think about it. He was an Autobot, Sam was a human, and Sam had a girlfriend. That was how things were.

Or at least it had been, until Sam had gone and changed.

His human didn't seem aware of it to begin with. Unlike himself, he knew organic minds did not have access to the raw data that would allow them to accurately diagnose what was happening. They had to rely on intuition and emotional sophistication to determine exactly what a particular feeling or sensation meant. But regardless of whether he was conscious of it or not, the changes had definitely been there. Subtle at the outset certainly, but for a being who observed every single detail, they stood out like headlights on a country road. A slight touch to his dash or hood that wasn't strictly necessary, the way his fingers would gently stroke whatever part of Bumblebee they were touching, seemingly without thought, a noticeable quickening of the pulse every time they were together, and the change to his pheromone scent that was similar and yet different to around Mikaela.

They had all gnawed away at his conviction, sending his carefully ordered calculations into a whirlpool of hope and despair. He had likened it to the human expression 'death by a thousand cuts', each one by itself having little to no effect, but leading to disaster when added together. The probability sequences that ran without pause in his memory gradually began to contain less and less choices that lead to him not wanting to merge with Sam, each computational cycle sounding like a death knell through his databanks, until there was nothing left for him to do. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a mistake, and knew the actual physicality's of it were impossible, but in spite of that knowledge, his conviction had started to slip.

As Sam's had toward him, it began to show itself first in unnoticeable little ways. He began letting Sam do more driving, craving the touch of his hands on the wheel. He developed a dangerous habit of seeking out and driving through dirt and water, in an attempt to convince Sam to wash him. And then out of the blue, offered to teach Sam more about engines, where it was just the two of them, alone in the garage. He didn't think his charge consciously noticed the way they gradually spent more and more time together, or the way he started changing his plans to suit something Bumblebee had suggested. His databanks had promptly labelled his behaviour as 'flirting', and Sam had responded with an eagerness that didn't quite marry up to his relationship with Mikaela. It had driven him to distraction as his spark became increasingly fixated, until eventually the girl had noticed.

Bumblebee didn't consider himself a bot with many hang-ups, but as time went on he began to become aware that when it came to the young human, he was more than a little possessive. So when Sam had turned down Mikaela for about the third time in a row one weekend, he had already been scanning her like a scientist looking down a microscope. He had seen the flush of blood through her body, the increased flow of adrenaline, the constricting of her pupils. He had worried, because he knew it would be so easy for her to ruin everything he had. Had she deliberately pointed out all the little nuances and gestures the two of them made to each other every day, Sam more than likely would have suffered injury, of the kind not easily repaired in organics.

He hadn't been ready then, still high on the victory over Megatron and the glorious feeling of winning the girl and finally feeling like he was fitting in; he wouldn't have been able to handle the revelation of what was starting to develop between them. It was something that would make him a social outcast again, maybe even more so judging by what the autobots increasingly learnt regarding human morality and ethics. In fact even Bumblebee wasn't fully ready. So as her vital signs went from calm to aggressive, his processors had kicked into high gear, desperately trying to calculate a way to avoid the damage Sam was about to suffer. He considered it a sign of exactly how far gone he was by then, that as no immediate option presented itself, possibility 2,557,109,276 had included her death.

As was becoming an increasingly obvious trait amongst the humans he was getting to know however, he watched as, with a deep breath, her heart rate slowed down, her muscles relaxed, and she somehow managed to see the bigger picture than just herself. He would have sighed then, if he had been able to, but had to settle for sinking back down onto his springs instead. He had seen the smile she shot at him, obviously sensing the tension leave him, and knew that she would keep their secret for now.

That had been weeks ago, and time had changed the dynamics between the three of them. Mikaela slowly put up less resistance each time Sam couldn't spend time with her, and the interactions between the two humans began to lose their previous ardour. Make out sessions on his hood and back seat had noticeably reduced, though whether this was because Mikaela was now uncomfortable kissing Sam when she knew Bumblebee was right there was also a factor. Regardless, he was secretly grateful that things had not yet become physical between them, and that Mikaela had gracefully backed down and held off on ending it until Sam was ready to acknowledge that they were over. It had seemed everything would be ok between them.

But then there had been today. Things had gone so incredibly wrong. Bumblebee had absolutely no idea how he was going to repair what had happened between them. It had not been his intention to go so far with Sam, his human still hadn't even understood what he was feeling. The day had been so perfect though, everything so focussed about them. The exhilaration of the race, the feel of them together, they had both seemed so ready. In the thousands of years he had been active he had never before felt a moment of connection as pure as when the two of them had been out there. Sam was sinking deeper into his seat, all the tenseness flowing out of him as he relaxed. The little caresses he gave the steering wheel as they negotiated the twists and turns set Bumblebee's engine to overdrive, straining against the friction of rubber on asphalt and the gravity that bound them together.

He had simply acted without thinking then, feeling the other being within him responding like a pulse of electro magnetic energy that surged straight through him, threatening to blow out all his systems. It almost seemed as though he could touch Sam, more than as just a physical presence within his cabin. The building energy he'd sensed since they'd begun seemed to reflect back at him, the boy within him feeling it also. And so he'd attempted it. He had reached out towards his human like a starving man for food.

And tried to spark-bind as he would with another of his own race.

He had never done it before of course, but no warning bells sounded in his mind. The process could not work on an organic being, their life source deriving from a method other than the allspark, and so posed absolutely no danger to the boy inside him. The bond was essentially energy, and Sam had no spark to connect with. It should have fizzled, should have been like trying to grab a hold of water in a sieve, and that should have brought him to his senses. But it hadn't. Instead they'd both felt something, he'd known it the moment the form sitting in his drivers seat had tensed. It had almost seemed like a faint smell, as of something familiar brought by the breeze, out of sight, but still most definitely there.

The pull had caught him, though his logic processors failed to provide an explanation for its presence. Still there it had been; the energy and brilliance of a spark, hidden somehow, but calling out as brightly and eagerly as his own. So he had reached for it, clawed toward it, searching wildly like a human in a dark room, with a desperation born of the knowledge that his wildest probability assessment was now playing out in the real world. He had heedlessly pushed ahead, smashing and removing anything that stood in the way. His spark drove him onwards, feeling the imperative to join with another that called to it, disregarding any thought of danger either to himself or to Sam.

He hadn't noticed as his interior heated up, and he strained past the point his earth vehicle form was designed to take. Didn't realise as he unconsciously created a series of pheromones specifically designed from the billions of scans he'd performed on Sam. Failed to comprehend as he vented those pheromones into the cabin. He was solely focussed on joining with that spark, a spark that called to him as no other ever had. He could feel barriers being forced aside as his spark energy pierced the gap between them, arcing like lightning as it travelled through his car form body and into his human inside. It had seemed to take an eternity to get there, but then he was through and he could feel it, a spark that seemed to sear him with its brightness. A brightness that after this would shine for him alone. Sam would be his. No one would ever be able to separate them again.

He had been incapable of other thought then, knowing that they were so close. He'd felt both of their energies peaking, felt the joining only seconds away, felt a euphoria that he'd never thought to feel after their world was destroyed and the allspark lost. But something tickled one of his sensors, disturbing the perfect coruscation of energy flowing between them. A tear moistened the leather upholstery of the seat, a wet droplet of fluid that shouldn't have been there. His internal sensors flickered and refocussed on his driver, setting off a million warnings inside his core. He could see the straining of muscles unable to move, could sense the lack of air moving past loose lips, felt the heart that sustained Sam stutter and begin to die.

And he had panicked. A frenzy that surpassed anything he'd ever felt on the battlefield. Processors and systems had screamed into overload or shut off wildly as he violated the very person he had sworn to protect. His tyres had left the road, slipping and skidding through gravel on the shortest path towards the pit area, feeling control slip through his grasp and desperately calculating a course of action that resulted in the least injury for Sam. The only experience he could liken it to had been a 'nightmare', something he had witnessed in Sam enough to realise how terrifying they could be.

And now they were afraid of each other, he sitting alone on the top of a hill, Sam down below, talking in depth to Mikaela.

A warning had appeared from his proximity sensors then, a movement that was not related to the nature around him, and it had swiftly been identified as the approaching form of Optimus. He'd managed to get incredibly close; a feat that was no doubt due to the fact that he was running his own area scans at low power so he could focus on Sam. The other bot halted beside him, no doubt his own scans telling him exactly what had Bumblebee so distracted.

"You needed to talk to me Bumblebee?" As they were alone his leader had spoken in their native language, rather than the one adopted while conversing with humans. It was a small thing, but it served once again to highlight the vast difference between them and the two small figures far below.

"There was… a problem." He didn't know exactly how to go about explaining after that, taking the reprieve offered as Prime sat down beside him on the ridgeline, the whirring and clicking of parts disturbing the stillness.

"With Sam." It was not a question, so Bumblebee did not answer, listening as the far older bot let out what could only be described as a human sigh. Evidently they were all being affected by their time on this planet.

"Perhaps it was a mistake. Leaving you assigned as his protector." There was no malice or disappointment in the tone, only the contemplative depth of a leader doubting his own past actions. Looking far back into their history together, he didn't remember the much older bot ever being so filled with uncertainty as he had been since the quest for the allspark had begun. But then it had changed all of them to some degree, forced them to do things and make decisions they would not normally have accepted.

"No. I would have stayed anyway." And he would have, of that there was no doubt, a fact that Optimus was well aware of.

"I know my friend." He could feel Primes more powerful sensors passing over him from head to toe, their strength only surpassed by those Ratchet used for diagnosing.

"But now you have a problem." The statement was disturbingly undisturbed; a parent who already knew their child had knocked over the vase and was simply waiting for them to confess to it.

"I felt a spark inside Sam." The sentence was an interesting dichotomy of tones and sentiments, simultaneously both a question and a statement, a direct explanation and an obfuscating half truth.

"I know." Bumblebee felt rocks crumble under his hand as it clamped down on the cliff edge. After thousands of years fighting a war together, he had thought there was very little that could surprise him anymore about his leader and team mates.

"It was not meant to happen this way. We should either have left with the allspark, or I should have died to keep it from Megatron. Neither of those options came to pass however, in spite of our attempts." Bumblebee stayed silent, fearing that if he spoke it would either be in anger or despair.

"There was no choice at the end. That kind of power could not be allowed to fall into Megatron's hands. So I had to entrust it to Sam to ensure its destruction. He carried that out as any of us would have, perhaps saving his planet with the same act." Far below them Bumblebee could see the two human forms now lying down in the rear tray of the ute, his scans telling him Mikaela was falling asleep, while Sam was still wide awake beside her. His hand released the cliff edge as the anger left him, and his voice cracked when he spoke, sounding almost like his vocal processor was breaking again.

"What happened?" One of Prime's hands settled on his shoulder, the cold metal feeling foreign to his systems after so long with the warmth of human contact.

"As a final attempt to overcome his own destruction as Sam pushed the allspark into his chest, Megatron tried to activate it, to create a new body, a new spark for himself. His efforts failed, there was no machinery nearby capable of transformation, but the energy of the Spark had to go somewhere, and there was only one other being in contact at that time." He knew there was a horrifying downside coming. Prime was too hesitant, too careful of his words for it to be leading to a 'happy' ending.

"What will happen to him?" Beside him, Optimus mind whirred, his optics and sensors focussed in the same place Bumblebee's were.

"I don't know my friend. I made Ratchet aware of it and he has been working almost non-stop to find a solution." The tone of his voice conveyed the fact that Optimus did not believe such an answer existed.

"He will die then?" Another almost human sigh came from the elder's lips.

"All life eventually dies Bumblebee, it is one of the constants of the universe. But to answer your real question, yes. Ratchet believes perhaps in only a few human months." It seemed that for an instant his circuits ceased to function after that statement, a flicker of total and utter unawareness of everything, before consciousness returned. It had been the unpleasant reality that he had refused to allow himself to face when he'd first realised his attraction to the human boy. The knowledge that eventually, in what to an Autobot was barely a blink of an optic, he would grow up, grow old and then die; a harsh truth that would one day separate them for eternity. He had tried not to think of what would happen when that day came, when he was once again on his own, but this time filled with the memories and knowledge of what it had felt like, and aware that he could never have it again.

Prime's metal grip suddenly seemed like an unbearable weight, a call to reality that chilled him with the thoroughness of the cold spray of sector seven.

"You understand then, why you cannot bind with him." It seemed cruel, to point out the further reality of his situation. Like taunting your fallen opponent after already delivering the death blow. A spark could only ever bind with one other in its existence; to bind his to Sam would mean the rest of his life alone. A heavy price to pay, for at most, several months together.

"It was so strong Prime." His vocals were weak, and seemed insufficient to the task of conveying how perfect it had been.

"I doubt I could ever feel a stronger resonance." The cold grip of his commander released his shoulder armour, the powerful optics turning to focus on him instead of the distant humans.

"Perhaps. But you might find someone satisfactory." And like that, there were his only two choices; an executioner offering his victim their choice of implements. What had Sam once told him? Quality or quantity, but rarely some of each. An eternity of mediocrity, or a brief flare of perfection. His calculations couldn't decide between two such different choices, there was no way to compare them. His probability assessments couldn't probe far enough into the future to possibly comprehend what losing Sam after binding would feel like, nor could they calculate an eternity substituting something else in his place.

"And what if I miss this chance, and never get another?" He turned his own optics up to the larger bot.

"The allspark is gone Prime. There will be no more Autobots, no more Decepticons. We are all that's left now, and out there," he waved an arm at the vastness of space stretched above them, "the battle continues. More and more of us will fail as time goes on, some in battle, some through accident, some by malfunction, until eventually there will be none of us left." He dropped his focus back to the ground then, pausing to watch Sam pull a blanket from the cab of Mikaela's truck and drape it over her slumbering form in the back, feeling the pulse of energy as he stared at the boy's face. His vocals were the Autobot equivalent of a murmur as he watched his human resume his earlier pacing.

"What would you choose, when it came your time to die Prime? As the last pulse of energy faded from your spark, would you rather have someone acceptable there to watch over you? To keep you company as your final power drains? Or die alone, and have your last memory be of perfection, and the person who taught it to you?" There was silence after that, not even broken by the whirring and clicking of mechanical parts, both of them just sitting there, frozen like statues. Eventually Optimus had stood up and turned away from the cliff, stopping just at the edge of the road that ran behind them.

"I will stop by the Witwicky house tomorrow and we can both explain this to Sam together." He felt a sense of relief as he nodded, grateful for the reprieve of not having to try and tell the person he cared most about that they were dying.

"And Bumblebee," he swivelled his head slightly, so he could see the red and blue bot standing there, ready to transform.

"I would choose perfection."

Fin

Ok, so it was almost a double chapter – my deepest apologies both for the length and the delay in getting it to you :)