Mazuiko: Sorry about all the editing, guys. I just wanted the different POVs and sections to be shown. I'm on a roll! I got 13 reviews in less than 48 hours. My goal: longer chapters because I love you all. Yes, people, the Autobots ARE losing the war. The Decepticons would never treat Bumblebee any different just because he's a youngling; they're DECEPTICONS, remember? Cruelty comes first for them in most cases. Barricade isn't a letch, since I certainly don't get that impression from him; cruel Decepticons are attracted to innocence (and want to crush it) like bears to honey. They tear the beehive apart before they devour the sweetness contained within. He is going to be cruel, straight to the point, and quite lacking in tolerance and patience. He has a temper, and an innocent, bubbly youngling is something Barricade has no qualms tearing apart. That is the impression I got from him in the movie. As for Bumblebee's desperation for help in the first chapter…I considered his age and decided that most teenagers, even battle hardened ones, are afraid of being torn apart while being helpless to defend themselves. Death frightens most people, even soldiers. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it (or I wouldn't be typing this chapter) and am glad someone could connect to Bumblebee's fear. Someone figured out the plot already…well, it was obvious. You all rock! Angst first, then romance mixed with angst…then more romance mixed with angst. Yay!

Aftermath

Prime dodged Megatron's flail again, hoping to get a hold of the Allspark, but he was having no luck. Megatron's orders were unknown to him, but Prime's instinct was kicking in. 'They're not trying to kill us, so what are they doing? We would have been killed by now.' He stopped long enough for his auditory system to pick up Jazz's protests.

"Put me down! Ironhide, I could use a little help!"

It made no sense to Prime. 'Primus, Blackout is carrying him!' Ironhide was trying to shoot his way through what seemed like a wall of Decepticons. 'He's using the Allspark to create a new army. Where is Blackout taking Jazz?' Jazz was extremely battered, but his injuries didn't look severe.

"Blackout, put me down! Optimus! Ya slaggin' 'Con, I said stop!"

Jazz's protests faded into the distance, the other Autobots blocked by the increasing numbers of Decepticon troops. The sight of Jazz beating his fists against Blackout's armor burned itself into his processor, forever making its impression upon his spark. Prime tried to get to him, but Megatron was keeping him occupied, constantly fighting to keep himself alive.

"Ya slaggin' piece of scrap! Agh!"

Blackout, once he was far enough from the battle in Mission City, threw Jazz onto the ground with tremendous force.

"You will come with me, Autobot."

"Not happenin'!"

Jazz fired at Blackout, the larger Decepticon dodging the heat rounds and running closer with each dive he performed. Jazz was used to fighting; getting his limbs ripped off, having his armor torn apart, and avoiding getting his spark ripped out, but something was off. Blackout was determined to cause superficial damage. The strange 'dance' was always the same; Jazz would fire, Blackout would dive, Jazz would block, Blackout would grab, Jazz would struggle, and Blackout would throw. It was frustrating him beyond anything because it made no sense. Decepticons hated Autobots because that was just an unwritten rule, so there were things they just had to do as ordinary, incapable-of-feeling Decepticons. They hated, killed, maimed, mutilated, tortured, deceived, lied, manipulated, back-stabbed, double-crossed, and performed acts of cruelty. They did NOT, by an unwritten rule established since the beginning of the war, do otherwise. They did not love, adore, like, help, give, mourn, heal, comfort, teach, learn, feel, or do anything out of the 'goodness' of their nonexistent sparks. When Blackout finally decided that enough was enough and held on tight to Jazz, it made the Autobot angry. It was the facts that made him angry, because the unwritten rules were being broken. His beliefs about Decepticons, the ones that Autobots believed so they could kill the wretched traitors and move on with their lives, were being proven WRONG. Blackout wasn't hating, killing, maiming, mutilating, torturing, deceiving, lying, manipulating, back-stabbing, double-crossing, or performing acts of cruelty on him. He was ignoring Jazz's protests, carrying the Autobot to some unknown destination, allowing him to suffer from nothing except the knowledge that his faction had lost the war…and that Decepticons were not only what Autobots believed them to be.

"Optimus, something's wrong."

Prime knew what Ironhide was speaking of. Not a single Autobot in Mission City had been killed. The Decepticons were trying to take them down, but not actually take them out. They had avoided Prime, as always, but their actions were worrying him. Ratchet was gone; Prime hadn't seen him since a group of newly created Decepticons had flown him off into the distance. 'They took him in the same direction they took Jazz…and Bumblebee.' New Decepticons created from military vehicles and aircraft with strong armor and musculature were giving Ironhide target practice, but their sheer numbers were becoming trouble for the old mech. The battle was like none before it; they couldn't just keep shooting Decepticons until there were none left because their numbers would never decrease. The human military had unknowingly given Megatron the army he needed; the cars and appliances of Earth were quickly becoming ground troops to back up the tanks, jeeps, and jets that were forcing Ironhide to put his every movement to use. Time wasn't a factor; Cybertronians did not grow tired, weary, or drowsy nearly as quickly as humans. Only when their energon reserves were depleted and they needed to go into recharge (badly) would the Cybertronian equivalent of human exhaustion kick in.

"They won't take me; I'll give them no choice but to rip me to pieces first!"

His old friend's words were brave, but Prime could see Ironhide's increasing anger and frustration. They were the only two left, and Prime was suffering badly from injuries he had already taken from Megatron's flail. The Decepticon leader was tearing at him, his musculature barely restraining the other mech from pinning him. It was only after several Earth days, when several tanks carried a cursing Ironhide away and Prime had optics as red as expensive high-grade energon looking down into his own that he allowed himself to believe the truth.

The war was over.

Bumblebee almost thought his processor had finally fried when he heard Jazz's voice on the other side of his cell's door; he had told himself he would never hear that voice again. His signals must've only been blocked from going outside of the base, not within it.

"Get me outta here! Ya hear me? I ain't stayin' in 'ere!"

"Jazz, are you alright?"

"Bumblebee, thank Primus, I thought…well, that don't matta. Ya in a cell, too?"

"Yes. How are the others? Did you get the Allspark?"

The silence that followed disturbed the youngling more than any injury or battle he had ever been in. Barricade then entered, and Bumblebee figured Jazz had heard him since the First Lieutenant had stayed quiet.

"Your war is lost. Megatron has the Allspark and is currently on his way here with Optimus Prime."

"You're lying…"

"No, he ain't lyin' Bee."

Jazz's voice interrupted his sudden rage, and the sadness that filled his spark nearly overwhelmed him.

"You mean…Ratchet…Ironhide and Optimus—"

"I don't know what happened to 'em, Bee. They were fightin' like hell when Blackout brought me 'ere. I can't believe it. Megas got Chief? Ah no…"

He looked cautiously at Barricade, only allowed a single glance before the black shock trooper dragged him from his cell and down the halls of the base. He would not cooperate; he tugged, yanked, kicked, and pulled with every opportunity, refusing to go in any direction he was led. Only when Barricade slammed him against the wall and pushed his fingers into Bumblebee's shoulders did he stop.

"I have orders to take you to Megatron's point of arrival. Your cooperation is not optional."

"Torturing me didn't help you, and neither will threats. I'm not listening to you."

"The enslavement of the Autobots, as well as the extermination of the human race, is imminent. Your absolute obedience is mandatory, and the consequences for doing otherwise will be severe."

"I don't care what you say! You don't—"

"—own you? I'm afraid he does dear youngling."

The sound of Megatron's voice filled him with dread; Bumblebee's last encounter with him at Tyger Pax was not pleasant. Only when his optics met those of Optimus Prime did Bumblebee's spark rise from the deep depression caused by torture and anguish. Barricade stood at attention, probably waiting for what Bumblebee suspected to be another order from Megatron. However, Barricade turned to look at the golden Autobot.

"Our orders from Lord Megatron were as follows: Should the Autobots fail to surrender, then their punishment shall be eternal enslavement. Let none escape.

Bumblebee's spark dropped, his processor reeling from the information just as Prime's jaw seemed to finally manage to shut. The Autobot leader, being much older than Bumblebee, understood what eternal enslavement truly meant. They were not like humans; their bodies did not rust, deteriorate, or weaken with age. The only things that could really kill a Cybertronian were viruses, malfunctions, accidents, and other Cybertronians. Viruses, malfunctions, and injuries from accidents could be repaired and prevented easily by a medic like Ratchet; deaths by other Cybertronians didn't happen until the war started. Prime, knowing this, had the experience needed to understand what Barricade was truly saying; the Autobots would never again taste freedom or its rewards. They were now slaves of the Decepticons, subject to their every whim, and completely unable to prevent or stop it…for the rest of time. It made Prime briefly wonder if time itself had an end at all. Bumblebee looked up at his leader, his creator, and his role model as if searching for an answer, for hope that Barricade was wrong.

"Optimus…?"

Prime could not look into the baby blue optics of the only remaining youngling, the one he himself had created, and now the one he had ultimately failed to protect. He looked instead at the youngling's feet, noticing Barricade was still holding Bumblebee up against the wall and Bumblebee was still trying to pull the Decepticon's fingers out of his shoulders as he kicked the black mech in vain.

"Do as he says."

The youngling's whole body stiffened, then went lax. Prime was expecting what happened next; he had been the one who created and raised the little Autobot after all. Barricade had pulled his fingers out and relaxed his grip after Bumblebee's body went limp, but that was his mistake. The next few moments reminded Prime of times when he had made the same mistake, and almost laughed at the look of shock on Megatron's face. Bumblebee had gone limp, looked at Barricade for a very brief moment, then exploded. He nearly tackled the surprised Decepticon in his fury, kicking, screaming, and swinging little fists as the shock trooper tried to regain the upper hand. Bumblebee continued to thrash and struggle even after Barricade picked him up and slammed him against the wall, the blow only stunning the youngling slightly before he continued. Megatron's shock quickly faded, though, and Prime's auditory system was assaulted with a very loud and harsh voice.

"Get him to calm down or I'll stop him myself!"

"I'm not going to let you hurt him, Megatron."

Megatron chuckled slightly before advancing towards the unsuspecting youngling.

"Honestly, I'd think you had forgotten that I was Lord High Protector before the war."

Prime's processor couldn't find a reason for Megatron's statement before his optics did. The Decepticon leader simply walked up to the youngling and grabbed the back of his neck, smirking triumphantly when the little body went limp in his grip.

"You'd forgotten that I dealt with younglings, Prime. I'm insulted. If you can't control him, Barricade, then I'll give him to someone else."

"Yes, my lord."

Barricade's hand proceeded to replace Megatron's at the back of Bumblebee's neck, the Autobot looking like he was trying to be angry…but failing.

"He will learn to obey, Prime, and so will you. Disobedience will be punished, so you had best learn quickly."

Prime followed Megatron as he walked, his thoughts replaying recent events, hoping to find a solution to what was becoming an even more desperate situation. Only one thought kept coming back to his processor, refusing to leave him in peace. 'I have failed.'

Bumblebee tried desperately to find the will to fight back, but the back of his neck was sending relaxation signals to his systems, keeping both his body and his processor calm and still. Barricade, being only an inch taller than Bumblebee, had to hold the Autobot up beside him. The youngling had expected the Decepticon to simply drag him across the floor. Finally giving up on fighting until he was released, he decided he was bored.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I am taking you to my quarters. It would not be efficient to keep you in a holding cell."

"I'm going to be living with you?"

"You cannot serve me otherwise."

His leg twitched…violently.

"There is no way—forget it. No. It's not going to happen. I hate you, and…well, I hate you. You can't get me to talk when you torture me, so give it up already. I will never—"

Barricade suddenly increased the pressure on the back of his neck, and Bumblebee let out a small whimper before falling silent.

"You try to hide your age, but your inexperience is evident."

Barricade released him when they arrived at the base's living quarters, and Bumblebee took a moment to get his systems back to normal. Before Barricade could close the door, they heard a very irritated voice echo down the halls.

"Ya pain in the aft! Stop luggin' me around. If ya think I'm gonna listen to ya for one moment then ya dumba than I thought!"

Bumblebee looked past the black Decepticon to see Blackout carrying Jazz as he walked through the living quarters, probably taking Jazz to his own room.

"Hey Bumblebee, that 'Con betta not have hurt ya! 'Cade, I swear, ya keep ya dirty hands offa 'im!"

"What I do with my property is none of your concern, Autobot. Blackout, we must make our preparations quickly. Megatron wants us ready for departure by Earth's next nightfall."

"He ain't ya property, ya slaggin' scrap heap!"

"Believe what you will. You will see reason soon enough."

Bumblebee glared at Blackout as he continued farther down the hall, soon out of the sight of their optics. The youngling then fixated his glare on Barricade, his attitude showing through his posture.

"I'm not your property, no matter what you say."

Barricade closed the door, paused briefly, and responded with a very gruff, bold tone.

"You are only trying to deny what has come to pass. It is inevitable. You will eventually realize the futility of your resistance and stop trying to run away from the truth."

"Do you enjoy being cruel and unreasonable, or is it just in your spark? No, don't even bother answering. You don't have a spark!"

Bumblebee allowed himself a moment to calm down so he could continue, but Barricade suddenly grabbed his hand and put it on his black chest, right where his spark's casing was located.

"Oh…"

Normally he would consider such a move foolish, but they both were aware that Bumblebee's cannon was still useless. What was only a small moment felt like a millennium to Bumblebee, his hand still held firmly in place over Barricade's spark.

"You're warm."

His voice was small and quiet, sounding much more timid than he wanted it to.

"I knew it was there…I mean, it makes sense but I just…I guess I thought—"

Barricade proceeded to place his right hand on Bumblebee's chest, his left hand still holding Bumblebee's right hand in place. The Autobot then held the hand touching his chest with his own left hand, mimicking Barricade's position exactly. Their hands were relieved of their positions only when Bumblebee had mustered up the courage to look into the optics of the other mech.

"I am not as warm as you, Bumblebee, but I still have life in me."

A pang of guilt and sadness coursed its way through Bumblebee before he managed to nod and speak.

"You said we were supposed to be ready for departure. Where are we going?"

"You are quite curious…perhaps too much."

"Is Megatron sending you to destroy another planet?"

"No, he is not."

"I thought he was going to finish the base here."

"He is not going to finish the work here himself. He has drones here to do that for him."

"Then why is he getting ready to go so quickly?"

Barricade let out a low, deep chuckle at Bumblebee's heightened curiosity.

"We are returning to Cybertron."

Mazuiko: This story just wants to jump out of my head! My fingers can't keep up with my thoughts. There's nothing like a quiet moment between enemy mechs to help them realize just how similar they are. Poor Jazz…Blackout just can't keep his hands off of him. As for the thing about the back of Bumblebee's neck, I read that in a story somewhere. It makes younglings become calm and still, like a kitten. What I've noticed about cats (I have one) is that the mother doesn't have to be the one carrying the kitten for it to work. A human could do it just the same. (I give full credit of that idea to the author of whatever story that was. I just couldn't help using it. The rest of the plot is mine.) If anyone has any questions or doesn't understand something, feel free to ask. I just hope you guys enjoy it. Many thanks to all reviewers!