Prowl sat down next to Bumblebee's berth, leaning against the wall. He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep or how he had ended up in the scout's chamber, but he waited patiently for Bumblebee to wake up, knowing that the yellow bot preferred waking up early. He listened carefully as Bumblebee grumbled quietly, shifting in place. After a minute or so, the scout opened his optics and blinked blearily. Prowl noticed how the young mech's eye ridges furrowed momentarily when he saw him before he yawned loudly and stretched his legs as far as they would stretch.
"Morning," Bumblebee said, his voice still a little sleepier than usual. He looked more tired than usual, and Prowl wondered if it was because he'd been on patrol all night. Prowl nodded and returned the greeting. A few moments later, Bumblebee's doorwings twitched again, and he turned towards Prowl.
"What time is it?" He inquired, slightly tilting his helm.
Prowl glanced over to the window, finding the sun already shining brightly outside. "It's about 0730," he replied, and he smiled at the look of realization on Bumblebee's face.
Bumblebee sat up in the berth and turned to fully face him. "Did you recharge alright? I mean, last night's patrol took a toll on you. We could have rested at some point, but—"
Prowl cut him off, his voice low and gentle. "I recharged well last night. You know I like to keep my systems fully charged whenever possible." He smiled faintly, his blue optics alight with satisfaction. "But yes; last night was productive. The energon we obtained from the outpost was plentiful. Even our fuel reserves were replenished."
He turned his attention back to Bumblebee and was taken aback to see the scout's frame visibly shaking. His field seemed... nervous. Like he might be upset. Or anxious, even. Bumblebee's field was constantly in flux these days—like an electrical storm. But he couldn't sense anything bad coming, yet. Prowl watched as Bumblebee fidgeted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. And then he asked, slowly and carefully, "What is wrong?"
Bumblebee hesitated before he answered. "Nothing," he said, a note of finality creeping into his tone.
It made Prowl feel guilty, because Bumblebee sounded almost hurt by his question.
"Nothing's the matter. Nothing at all."
"You're lying to me," Prowl said softly. "And it is not your fault. I can tell when someone is hiding things from me." It felt odd to admit this out loud.
He had never thought of himself as being particularly open to emotions. Still, something about seeing Bumblebee so distressed tugged painfully at his spark.
He tried one more time, speaking gently and clearly, hoping his calm words and neutral tone would convey his meaning perfectly. "You know I won't judge you. Whatever it is you are worried about, I promise that I will support you no matter what."
The scout gave him a strained smile, though his optics remained sad. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I shouldn't lie to you. It's just... It's hard to talk about."
Something was bothering Bumblebee, but Prowl didn't want to pressure him too much. He'd probably figure it out sooner or later, anyway. So Prowl decided to wait until he was ready to talk. "Whenever you're ready," he told Bumblebee, and the scout gave him another grateful smile. They spent a few silent minutes sitting there, just staring out the window together before Bumblebee spoke up again.
"When I came online here, everything happened so fast. I was barely aware of how I got here." He chuckled weakly to himself and looked away, embarrassed. "I've had so many bots try to explain what happened after the Battle of Praxus, but none of them understand."
"Do you remember what you found after the battle?" Prowl asked.
Bumblebee shook his head. "Not really. Just flashes of pain. Of fighting for my life. The memory banks are corrupted, but I remember bits and pieces. Mostly just that I was alone. That was it."
There was a faint glimmer of sadness behind the scout's optics as he recalled the painful memories. Prowl didn't blame him. It had to have been horrible, to have gone through that much physical torment without anyone near you, without any form of comfort. To have experienced such terror at such an early age... "You were very brave, to be able to come so far."
Bumblebee shrugged in response. "I guess I was just lucky enough not to die, so nothing matters anymore."
"You should take more credit. You certainly saved everyone else's lives, including yours."
The scout laughed shortly, bitterly, at that. Prowl couldn't help but notice that the sound reminded him of a sobbing engine. He tried not to think about it. The scout deserved to have good memories, and right now, Prowl needed to focus on him. "Don't get me wrong; I appreciate the sentiment. But I also don't deserve it. I was just lucky that I managed to survive, that's all."
"How is that luck?" Prowl queried mildly. "Luck doesn't always equate to success. Luck is often correlated with effort or ability rather than just chance." He paused. "You didn't just survive. It took you nearly every scrap of willpower you possessed to do so. Do not discredit yourself. If anything, your resilience deserves a higher mark than most."
Bumblebee gazed blankly at him, seemingly stunned by his speech. He continued to stare long after Prowl fell silent, as if trying to find the right words. Eventually, the scout spoke again. "You say that. But... I was scared. Terrified. I could barely even think straight, let alone stand up to fight those Decepticons. How can you possibly understand what I went through? What I still go through sometimes?"
His shoulders slumped slightly, and his expression became uncharacteristically grim and sad. "If only I was stronger, I could have done something. Anything! Instead I froze. I was completely helpless."
"But you aren't powerless."
He scoffed. "Sure. No one believes in me or treats me like I'm capable, not even Optimus Prime. Who do I even need? My friends?"
He gestured vaguely around the room. "My friends are the ones who believe in me. They're the ones who care about me. They're the ones who make me feel safe. They're the ones who make me feel like I belong somewhere. But I don't belong anywhere. Not anymore. I'm just a burden to them. I'm a liability. I'm a failure."
Prowl frowned. He had heard Bumblebee talk like this before, although that was hardly new information. The scout had been saying similar things for quite awhile, lately. He had said them countless times before. But hearing it once more still hurt. Prowl wanted to reach out, wrap his arms around the scout, and remind him that he belonged, regardless of what others thought. But he held himself back. This wasn't the moment, not now.
Instead, he settled for giving the scout a reassuring pat on the shoulder instead. "That's not true."
Bumblebee shot him a sharp look. "You don't know that."
"I know." He shifted a bit closer to the bed, leaning against the wall. "Optimus Prime loves you. All of us love you. We wouldn't have risked everything to rescue you if we didn't care about you, Bee. Why do you doubt that?"
"Because I haven't earned it!" Bumblebee shouted suddenly, standing up from his berth. "Because I've caused trouble for you since the day I joined your team. Because I haven't done anything worthwhile since I became a scout. I am nothing!"
He stopped shouting, taking several deep calming vents to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was much softer, almost ashamed. "I am nothing."
Prowl's frown deepened and he reached out, pulling the scout down to sit next to him on the floor. "Look at me, Bumblebee." When the other did not comply immediately, Prowl repeated the request in his calm, measured voice, "Look at me, Bumblebee." When the scout did, Prowl continued. "I have known you for over half a decade, Bee. You have proven time and time again that your strength is beyond compare. You have fought side by side with us against dozens of Decepticon warriors. You have protected me, Mirage, Cliffjumper, and Blaster when we were injured while battling Megatron. You have given up your own energon ration to spare my life. I know what kind of mech you are. Don't ever say something so absurd."
He placed a gentle servo on the scout's shoulder, forcing him to meet his gaze. "You have proven to us many times that you are worthy of our respect and affection. You are loved. You are valued. And you can trust us to protect you. Even if you cannot defend yourself."
"I..." Bumblebee began quietly. He trailed off, looking down at his hands. A small, self loathing smile played at the corner of his mouth, as though he weren't entirely sure whether he believed what Prowl was telling him. "I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Prowl responded firmly, smiling gently. "I always am."
A brief silence descended upon them as they sat close together on the floor of the scout's chamber. Finally Prowl stood, offering his hand to Bumblebee. The scout rose reluctantly to his feet, still gazing at the ground. Prowl smiled. "Come. Let's go join the others."
"Yeah," Bumblebee replied, sounding tired, but accepting Prowl's offered hand. After a moment, however, the scout hesitated, looking nervous to leave the comfort of the room. "What if... What if they hate me after this?"
Prowl paused, confused. "Why in the name of Primus would they hate you?"
Bumblebee didn't answer immediately, slowly lowering his optics. "...Just... Be careful. Please. Don't let them see me like this. I don't want them to treat me differently. I... I don't want to be a disappointment."
His voice was small, quiet, and incredibly vulnerable. For some reason, hearing his words pained Prowl terribly, causing the Praxian's spark to ache inside his chassis.
"They won't," he promised firmly. "They'll never treat you like that. Ever. I promise you that."
Slowly, but surely, Bumblebee returned Prowl's comforting smile. It took Prowl a moment to realize that it must have been the first genuine smile he'd seen from the scout in weeks.
"Thank you," the scout whispered softly.
"It's no problem. I want to hear you say that to yourself. Believe it."
With that, Prowl gently tugged on the scout's arm and guided him towards the door.