WOO!! 700 hits in four days! You guys rock! Ah, okay. Now then, on to the story. Again, it's a little violent here, so PLEASE be careful. If you are easily triggered, stay away from this chapter. I noticed I hadn't been paying much attention to Ratchet building Megatrons's body, simply because I don't care that much about it. So, don't hate me for that. I have another story I want to work on, and I just want to finish this one. Cool. All right, go read. This is the long chapter.
REMEMBER TO EAT AND GO TO THE BATHROOM!
And hug your mom/dad/guardian. They'd like that very much.
-Juana
Eight: Theft
Nights passed. Ratchet worked slowly each night on Megatron's new body, angry, disgusted and humiliated. The Decepticon watched him throughout the night, carefully watching for any hint of sabotage in the body. So far, there were none. But that didn't mean it would stay that way.
Ratchet, normally a hard worker, paced himself and worked slowly and almost sluggishly. Megatron, impatient though he was, did not pester the medic. He wanted a good body, and decided it would be best to keep his rude comments to himself.
That didn't make Megatron pleasant during the day, however. Ratchet was kept hidden and silenced in the bio scanner, hidden behind piles of failed junk when Sumdac was in the lab, chattering away with Megatron. He was allowed out when the professor was out of the lab, and that was when he had to watch Megatron's puppet torturing Bumblebee. The puppet was easily controlled remotely, allowing Megatron to do whatever and say whatever he wished silently while the human was around.
It was not a happy situation. Ratchet cursed himself for falling into the trap, and cursed himself more when he saw what was happening to Bumblebee. It seemed a happy ending was not in order.
Days passed. Bumblebee, everyone noticed, had become very introverted and sad. He never spoke of why he was this way, despite Prime's best attempts to get him to come out of his shell. Bumblebee just whispered something having a lot on his mind and that he didn't want to talk about it. Prime had even gone to 'Ratchet', trying to get an opinion about the behavior. The Megapuppet simply said,
"He's just learning. That's what young kids do. You teach 'em, they learn. He's probably just rethinkin' his own unacceptable behavior the past few days and decided to change it. He's especially learning his lesson now that Prowl has him meditating and watching nature documentaries six hours each day. If he never wants that punishment again, he'll have learned his lesson this time around."
"But now he's acting like he hates the world. And us. I mean, every adolescent does that at some point, but it just...it feels different. It's like he's hiding something, like some awful secret. Do you think he likes a girl? Or maybe body image issues? I mean, he was freaking out about height a little while ago. Maybe that's the problem."
"Could be," said 'Ratchet', shrugging. "I'll talk to him if you want."
"Might be a good idea," said Prime, unaware of what was going on right under his nose. "Yeah, why not. You know more about stuff like this. Thanks, Ratchet."
"Sure thing," said 'Ratchet', smiling. "In fact, I'll go find him now. You go on and do your own work, youngling. I know for a fact you still have some reading to do."
"Oh, right. Thanks, Ratch'." The puppet waved, watched the leader of the Autobots leave, then set off towards Bumblebee's room.
"Ah," said Megatron, glancing over at his slave in the corner of the Sumdac lab, "I was hoping to spend some time with the youngling today. I think I'll try something new." The real Ratchet reached forward, grabbed Megatron's stand and begged,
"Please, Megatron, don't hurt him! He's getting sick! I'm watching him die! He won't take any energon, he won't recharge... he won't even leave his room without Prime or Prowl there! He's not himself, he doesn't deserve this! He's going to develop and release a virus into his own system if you don't stop this!"
"Oh, I know that. I just like having someone to take my stresses out on. He's a very easy target."
"PLEASE! DON'T HURT HIM!" Ratchet cried one last time before a surge of burning energy singed his hands. He jumped back and sobbed silently, unable to watch the next episode of abuse.
The puppet knocked on Bumblebee's door, and, as it had become a habit, Bumblebee answered obediently and quietly, now wearing his Frankenstein sweater, covering all his new dents, scars, slices and so forth. He feared the wrath he would endure if he tried to disobey or if anyone found out about his shameful secret, and so had learned quickly to comply with the one he feared. He wouldn't look into 'Ratchet's' eyes. The puppet smiled and said,
"I have a task for you to complete." It leaned in close and whispered the task into Bumblebee's audio receptors, who stepped back, looked his abuser in the face and whispered,
"No! He'll kill me! And he's been really nice to me too!"
"Don't back-sass me, youngling. Do it or I'll hurt the girl." Bumblebee's shoulders dropped, along with his face. He felt sick, but what else could he do? He nodded and said,
"Okay. I'll do it. What are you gonna do if he catches me?"
"I'll let him deal with you his own way."
"Really?" Bumblebee's face lit up at this news. Anyone else's form of punishment was like getting a hug compared to what he'd been enduring lately. The look on 'Ratchet's' face told him he'd said the wrong thing. The puppet pushed him back into his room and closed the door. Neither of them saw Prowl, hidden at the top of a rafter, watching them. He jumped down silently and pressed his audio against the door and listened.
He had to clap his hand over his own mouth to prevent himself from crying out in protest to what he heard. Bumblebee's yelps, cries and sobs became quieter and quieter with each smack, kick and insult until he was a silent, twitching heap on the floor. Prowl heard the Megapuppet tell Bumblebee to clean up before performing his task so that no one suspected anything. Just before the door opened again, Prowl jumped back up to the rafter and hid himself.
His optics narrowed as he watched the 'medic' leave the youngling's room, an anger he had never felt before burning in his spark. He nearly went to go help Bumblebee, but stopped himself.
'No,' he thought, 'he needs to do this himself. He needs to tell us. I can't do this for him.' Prowl wanted to beat the hell out of himself for thinking it, but he knew Bumblebee was going to have to reach out for help. The ninja suddenly formulated a plan to get the younger 'bot to talk, but it would have to be carefully planned. He decided to wait for Bumblebee to leave his room; he needed to know what this 'task' was for.
Bumblebee left his room a few breems later, slightly limping and looking like he'd been broken into a million little pieces. Prowl had to stifle a sob of his own and followed the little 'bot towards his own room. Curious, he decided to watch it play out without interfering.
Bumblebee looked around cautiously, scared he would be caught and punished again. When it seemed the coast was clear, he opened the door and walked in.
"Prowl?" he called, "Are you in here?"
He received no answer, and so continued on into the room. Prowl followed silently, watching Bumblebee's every move, wondering what he possibly had that the 'medic' wanted so badly. Bumblebee walked around the room until he found what he was looking for: set carefully and neatly on the wall hung Prowl's shuriken collection. Bumblebee stared at them, almost in a daze before he reached out and gently touched one, just brushing his finger tips against it. He seemed frightened, as though being near them would bring pain.
He looked over his shoulder, sighed and gently pulled one off its hook in the wall, eyeing it slowly and fearfully before hiding it in his armor. Prowl watched with shock, not wanting to believe it. Ratchet had told Bumblebee to steal a shuriken from him? That made no sense! Bu then again, Ratchet beating the slag out of Bumblebee made no sense either. Prowl knew what he had to do.
Bumblebee left the room and closed the door, and began his long, tortuous journey to the med bay, where 'Ratchet' was waiting for him. The yellow Autobot knocked gently on the door and walked in slowly as soon as the door opened. The Megapuppet waited there, arms crossed and waiting to see whether the Autobot had done his assignment. Bumblebee took the shuriken out from under his armor and handed it to the imposter, terrified at what was to come.
In Sumdac's lab, Megatron giggled and said,
"This is going to be fun. I've never used one of those little things before. They're rather pretty, don't you think, doctor?"
"Megatron, you piece of scrap metal...I'll kill you for this."
"Of course you will. Now, let me have my fun."
It began. Megapuppet smacked Bumblebee across the face, grabbed the front of the sweater and hissed,
"Take this thing off. It's in my way." Bumblebee whimpered but did as he was told. He threw the sweater he'd made onto the examination table and waited for the next thing to happen. Megapuppet grabbed his shoulder and dragged him to the table.
"Get up there, and get that filthy human thing off my table." Bumblebee obeyed silently, throwing his sweater in the floor and away from 'Ratchet'. He lay down and dimmed his optics, scared and in pain. He waited...
Waited...
Waited...
And then...
He gasped as the sharp end of the shuriken was dragged across his chassis. He looked to see the damage and was devastated when he found 'Ratchet' was carving something into his metal skin. He winced and tried to keep his scream in, but within seconds of another slice, he cried out and allowed himself to cry in his abuser's presence.
"You worthless, pathetic brat," the puppet whispered as it cut again into the chassis. Bumblebee whimpered something inaudible, so the puppet leaned in closer and hissed,
"WHAT?" Bumblebee answered chokingly,
"W-why are you AUGH! S-still doing all th-th-ACH! this? I stopped b-being baaaaAAAUHd...!"
"Psh," huffed the puppet, "this is only the beginning, the prologue of this whole life-changing lesson for you, brat. It's time you started to understand that no one loves you, and no one would really even care even if they knew you were being hurt like this." He sliced again and again and again...
"W-what are—OW! y-you wr-writing on m-me...YIPE!"
"Sit up and you'll see for yourself." Bumblebee took a moment to sit up, but when he did, he nearly broke down when he saw it:
"WORTH."
"W-worth? You..."
"It's going to be 'WORTHLESS'. You get to finish it." A sudden silence lingered in the air as Bumblebee took 'Ratchet's' words in. He must have heard wrong...right?
"You...I...what?" he stammered, his lower lip quivering nervously, "I-I can't...I don't want to..."
"Too bad," replied the puppet, "you have to. Or I'll offline Prowl with it. Tonight."
"NO!" Bumblebee cried, grabbing the shuriken he'd stolen and pressed a blade against his chassis, next to the 'H'. He shuddered fearfully, shut his optics and made the first cut on himself. He winced and cried a little, then looked down. There was a jagged line running down his chassis, dripping, like the other marks, with oil. He shuddered again and finished what would be viewed as the 'L'.
"Good," said Megapuppet, "good boy. Keep going. You still have the 'E' and the two 'S's'. Hop to it or I'll kill the ninja."
"Y-yes, sir." Bumblebee continued, trying to keep his cries down to a minimum, but he couldn't help it. The pain was just too much for him to handle. He begged silently for someone to rescue him, for a savior...Optimus...Prowl...Primus, anyone...anyone?
His silent prayers went unheard as he finished the final letter. He gasped in painful relief, glad that the ordeal was over for now. He looked up sheepishly at the puppet and whispered,
"Is...is it okay? Do I do it...right?"
"Surprisingly, yes. Now clean yourself up and cover your ugly body up. Then go to your room. I don't want to see or hear you for the rest of the night. And hold on to that ninja weapon. If he notices it's gone, I want you to have it on you." Bumblebee nodded sadly and got off the table and located the same dirty towel he'd been using to clean his wounds with for the past few days and began to wipe the oil off, wincing every time he was too rough with the towel. He kept his optics downcast and tried his best to hide his tears, feeling more and more like a worthless, unloved failure with each passing nano-click.
Megatron watched the Autobot wipe off the oil leaking from his wounds and muted his link with the puppet for a moment to say to the imprisoned Ratchet,
"There, that wasn't so awful, now was it, doctor? The Autobrat is learning who is in charge, and he's developed a wonderful hatred for you! Perhaps now I'll be able to convince him to join my Decepticons."
"I hate you."
"I know, I know, we've established this, you senile old fool. Now shut up, I have to get back to work."
Turning his attention back to his wireless link and screen, Megatron returned to his victim.
"Bumblebee!" the Megapuppet yelled suddenly. The Autobot jumped a foot in the air and answered quietly,
"Y-yes, sir?"
"Tell that ninja that I want to see him. Send him down before you go to your room."
'Yes, sir. You aren't gonna hurt him, are you?"
"Go."
Bumblebee dropped his head and walked out nervously. He tried to think of something nice, something that didn't involve being cut or burned or hit, but nothing really came to mind. He passed by Prowl's room and, concealing the stolen item as best he could, knocked on the door.
It slid open instantly, and Prowl grabbed Bumblebee's shoulder and pulled him into his room. He closed the door quietly and ushered Bumblebee over to a far corner of the room. The youngest Autobot was surprised to see that Optimus Prime was there as well, and both of the older 'bots looked very upset.
"Um...I...I'm sorry..." Bumblebee whispered softly as he took out the shuriken. "I...I thought I saw you watching me, Prowl. I'm...I'm sorry I stole it." He hung his head in a defeated manner, trembling at the idea of being punished yet again. But no punishment came; instead, Prowl lifted Bumblebee's head up and said quietly,
"I already know what's going on. I just found out ten breems ago. But you, Bumblebee, need to say it yourself. You need to do this, for you. Don't worry about the consequences, you know Prime and I can handle the old man. Go ahead, say it. Prime doesn't know yet."
Bumblebee's eyes grew wide. Was he hearing the truth? Were his prayers being answered? For a moment, he couldn't do it; he couldn't speak. He stared almost blankly into their optics, unsure of whether or not this was some sick trick 'Ratchet' had set up for him. Was it? Prime looked terrified, while Prowl looked so caring...they were both so worried about him...
Bumblebee sighed and stammered,
"P-Prime...I...that is...R-Ratchet...he...Prowl, I can't do this!" he cried suddenly. He tried to run out, but Prowl grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"It's okay, Bee, it's all right. You need to say it. Go ahead."
"I...Prime...Ratchethurtsme!" As soon as he'd said it, he bawled into the ninja's chest, sobbing and babbling incoherently. Prowl held the little 'bot tightly, protecting him as best he could for now, while Prime...
Prime nearly went ballistic. He punched several holes through a wall and swore loudly.
"I knew it," he growled angrily, "I fraggin' knew it! That sonuvaglitch...I'll make him pay for this!" He turned around to face Bumblebee and stared with sudden understanding at the homemade sweater. He said, gently,
"'Bee...I need you to take that off." Bumblebee shook his head, not wanting them to see the damage that had been inflicted on his body. He wouldn't be able to handle them staring at the humiliating damage. It made him feel weak, pathetic...
"No, I can't," he mumbled. "You can't see it." Prowl, oddly gentle as he was today, said firmly,
"Bumblebee, if you don't take it off, we will. And I doubt you want us to do that. Am I right?"
"Oh, Primus, don't do this to me!"
"It's okay, 'Bee, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Look," reasoned Prowl, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours. Deal?"
Bumblebee sniffed and said,
"Yours? Did someone do this to you too?"
"I did it to myself, when I was training for Circuit-Su. The pressure of being perfect got to me, and I did things to my body to alleviate the stress. I will let you see them if you show us what that monster has done to you first."
This approach got through to Bumblebee. While he was still embarrassed by what he was about to show them, he was not as humiliated as he thought he would be. Knowing that someone else had some damage made it easier to show his own injuries. Slowly, he took the sweater off and dropped it on the floor, revealing many slices, dents, burns as well as oil stains where he'd been injured. His paint job was chipping in places; some areas looked like they'd been scrapped at until there was nothing left to scrape off.
"All this in just a few days," he murmured nervously. Prime got down to one knee for a closer look, then said,
"Why didn't you tell someone before?"
"He told me he'd kill Sari if I did. I think he said he'd offline you and Prowl, too. I didn't want you guys to get hurt, so I didn't say anything."
"I understand," said Optimus sadly. "It must have been very hard to tell us about this. It's important that you know that lots of people, Cybetronian and possibly humans, alike, are in this same kind of situation everyday, some their entire lives, and that you haven't been singled out by any higher power for any reason. What's important is that you told us. That was very brave of you, big guy."
"Th-thanks, Prime. I'm glad you think so. Oh! Prowl, Ratchet told me to send you down to his med bay—I think he knows that you know. I don't know what he wants to do to you."
"I'm not going down there. We'll wait for him to come up here. Prime, could you go get Bulkhead, too? Let him know what's going on and bring him here. I think we should all be here for the confrontation."
"Sure," said Prime, who left cautiously with his axe in hand, leaving Prowl and Bumblebee alone.
"Well," said Prowl, "a promise is a promise." He removed a very thin piece of dark metal from his left arm and let Bumblebee have a look. Prowl's forearm was covered in old scars and marks, as well as a few burns. It was like he'd taken a welder to his own body.
"I wear this thin dark armor over my entire body to hide it," he explained. "It was similar to getting an upgrade, except it functions only to hide. None of it bothers me or gets in my way when I fight. I don't know if we'll be able to get you one like it. Hopefully, if you're lucky, we'll be able to heal you up ourselves."
"How old were you when you did this?"
"Your age, ironically, only a few thousand years old. It's a tough time in your life, Bumblebee. You feel angry, stressed, upset and irritable. But there is nothing wrong with having fun as often as possible, especially your definition of fun. Just don't hurt people in the process. Punishment is a normal part of life; Ratchet's form of punishment is not." He smiled, then said enthusiastically,
"I once knocked down Sentinel Prime on a dare, while I was still in training. One of my few friends was a disrespectful jerk, and loved to make trouble for anyone with any kind of authority. You can't even begin to believe how much trouble I was in." Prowl laughed at his memory, and for the first time in days, Bumblebee cracked a smile. Prowl smiled back and patted the adolescent on the head.
"There's my 'buddy'. Welcome back, Bumblebee."
"Thanks, Prowl. I'm...I'm really glad you helped me. I never would have said anything on my own if you hadn't. I...I'm scared, though. What if Ratchet tries to hurt you, or Sari? I don't think I'd ever forgive myself."
"Don't worry, Bumblebee. We can fix this. It'll take some time, but we can fix it. He's old, and I'm a ninja. We'll be okay. Are...do you...will you be okay?" He asked cautiously, unsure of how to even word the sentence. Bumblebee shrugged and answered truthfully,
"...I don't know yet. What happens when it stops?"
"Well," said Prowl, thinking hard about what to say, "Sometimes...when a 'bot is put through this kind of...situation, they have what humans call 'nightmares'. You know, when you're in recharge and your thought processor is continuously processing new information, despite your being unconscious? Your memory chip sends the memories you obtained in the recent past and they get processed along with everything else, and sometimes that's all you process during recharge. Some 'bots start to do what I did, and they hurt themselves. Others repress it and forget entirely, while some...some commit suicide."
"I won't do that! I promise!" cried Bumblebee. All this new information, all these horrible things were scaring him. Bumblebee, while never having been a sheltered child, had never had time to learn about the downs of life while in Autobot boot camp, spending all his time having fun, training and causing trouble. No, all this talk of 'nightmares', self-inury and suicide was like a wake-up call he'd never even tried to think about before. He was starting to feel ill.
Before either of them knew it, Bumblebee's system faltered and down he went, falling to the floor before Prowl had time to realize it. He got to his knees quickly and helped Bumblebee get into a sitting position and said,
"Bee? Are you still with me?"
"I...ugh...I feel awful..."
"At least you're still on-line. Come on, let's get you on the berth." Prowl lifted Bumblebee into his arms and carried the sick Autobot to his berth. He lay Bumblebee down, who said,
"You don't have a roof...the sky is pretty. Did you know it was blue at this angle? Ooh! Puffy stuff!"
"Bumblebee?" asked Prowl, suddenly frightened and concerned for his friend's health. There must have been some kind of glitch in Bumblebee's processor.
"Bumblebee, did Ratchet ever hit you in the head?"
"All the time," Bumblebee sang. "Look! That thing has wings!" He pointed at a bird that had landed in Prowl's tree.
"Bumblebee, tell me where you were created."
"Iacon."
"What's your creator's name?"
"Bumblebee the second. He was created by Bumblebee the first. They're yellow like me. Hey, I'm yellow, too!"
"You just...never mind. Who is your best friend?"
"The bird, silly. It wants to go see a movie. I gotta go."
"Holy Primus...no, Bee, stay in bed," said a very frightened Prowl, pinning Bumblebee down firmly to the berth, "The bird is not your best friend, and there is no movie. Right now we need to talk to Ratchet." Bumblebee was suddenly brought back to his sanity. He sat back up and looked around for signs of danger.
"What? NO! He'll hurt me!"
"Bumblebee, repeat everything you just said to me."
"I told you that Ratchet was hurting me."
"What about the bird?"
"What bird? Are you going crazy?" Prowl stared, incredulous at what he was witnessing. There had to be a glitch in the little Autobot's processor, but who would take care of it? He certainly wasn't going to Ratchet for help anytime soon.
"All right, Bee. Just stay down, okay? You're not well. Let's just talk. About anything at all, anything."
"Why? What did I do? Did I do something stupid again?"
"You haven't done anything. It's all okay, I promise."
"Ratchet!" Bumblebee suddenly cried out. Prowl took his hand and said,
"He won't hurt you, I prom-AUGH!" He fell to the ground as Bumblebee watched in horror: the Megapuppet had snuck so quietly to them it was unreal. It glared at Prowl and then at Bumblebee.
"I warned you, I told you what would happen if you told anyone, little 'bot. This is your entire fault, Bumblebee, not mine. Now, Prowl has to die, and all because you couldn't keep your big mouth shut." The fake medic held one of Prowl's Cybertronian katanas in his hand and kicked the ninja on his back. He aimed the blade above his spark and said,
"Too bad, brat. He could have been spared if you hadn't been so stupid." Bumblebee shuddered, then screamed,
"NO! DON'T TOUCH HIM!" and he flung himself at the puppet, knocking the sword out of its hand. Bumblebee felt something in his processor snap as he landed on his abuser, and he did the only thing he could think of doing: he began to beat the thing to death. He screamed, swore, kicked, hit, used his weapons...Bumblebee went insane on his attacker.
On the floor, Prowl could hear the commotion and it woke him up. Groaning, he sat up and looked over at the one-sided fight happening beside him. He saw the sword on the floor and grabbed it. Furious at the 'medic' for his crimes against the youngest Autobot, he stomped over to the fight, grabbed Bumblebee and threw him off before ramming the sword into the puppet's empty (unbeknownst to Prowl) spark-chamber.
The puppet became still. Bumblebee trembled, wanting to continue his attack, but he kept himself parked on the floor. Prowl, however, was perfectly still, staring into the supposedly dead thing. Wasn't there supposed to be oil and energon all over the place?
"HeheheHAHAHAHAHA!" Prowl jumped back from the puppet in surprise, staring as the thing began to move. As it laughed, it got to its feet and kept its optics on the ninja.
"Hehehehe...you pathetic children...you always think things are so simple." It staggered toward Prowl, who was now paralyzed with fear; he couldn't move. He just stared at this...thing, this zombie...making its way for him. The puppet reached out for Prowl's face and brushed its digits against his cheek. He shuddered involuntarily at the cold, unwanted touch. The puppet opened its mouth and whispered,
"You're a good kid, but you can be nosy, and for that, you must be punished." The hand stroking the ninja's face became a fist that slammed into Prowl's cheek. He didn't cry out—he almost wasn't aware he'd been hit. Bumblebee watched his friend fall to the floor, then looked up at the 'medic' with terror in his optics. All his hope, all his thoughts of safety were dead, there was no one here to save him. He glanced back at Prowl and realized that if he couldn't protect his friend, how could he ever hope to be protected himself?
Bumblebee dropped to his knees. It was over. He would belong to this monster for the rest of his life, enduring pain and being unloved until the day the 'medic' went offline...
CRASH.
Bumblebee nearly went into shock as Bulkhead smashed through Prowl's door and set his sights on the Megapuppet. Megatron never saw it coming, and cringed and swore as his puppet was crushed instantaneously into a flat piece of scrap metal. It all happened too fast for it to be even climactic.
"Slag...slag...SLAG!" he screeched angrily at the screen, never having thought any of the Autobots would ever attack one of their own so willingly; Prowl had stabbed the thing, Bulkhead had crushed it…it was unreal. He watched the screen as Optimus Prime, Prowl, who was being supported by Bulkhead, and Bumblebee circled the puppet and stared with disbelieving optics.
"This...this isn't Ratchet," gasped Optimus. "He...it has no spark."
"It doesn't have a bio-signature, either," realized Prowl. "Why didn't we realize it?"
"Wh...who did this to me...?" Bumblebee whimpered. He began to tremble, this time more hurt by discovering his abuser decided to remain anonymous. The smallest Autobot began to sway ever so slightly before falling over safely into Prime's arms. The Autobot leader held his unconscious, spark-broken soldier gently and carried him back over to Prowl's berth.
"We need to find who did this," he said in a cracking voice as he laid Bumblebee down, "the poor kid is devastated. Who would want to do this to him? Who...! Oh Primus."
"What?" asked Bulkhead, who wearing tearing up, "what is it?"
"Remember how Ratchet was asked by Professor Sumdac to come to his lab that night? What if this was the thing he was asked to build?"
"It's probable," said Prowl, "but I cannot see any reason why that human would want to hurt Bumblebee, or any of us. He's been so good to us."
"I know," said Prime, casting his optics down, "but it could have been a facade. I'm going there. Now. Prowl, I need you to stay with Bumblebee, but Bulkhead, I need you to come with me."
"Sure thing, boss-bot," said the largest Autobot, "you bet. Anyone who tries to hurt my best little bud is scrap metal walking!"
"Then let's go. Prowl, don't let him leave. Just talk to him when he comes back online, play a game, anything. Just keep him—"
"Safe, I know. Now go. We don't want our culprit getting away." He sat down beside Bumblebee's unconscious body and watched Prime and Bulkhead leave as quickly as they could. He took Bumblebee's hand and held it tightly, sighing sadly.
Almost done...I promise...PLEASE REVIEW!!!
-Juana