Ohhh, I was gonna get this chapter up yesterday, but I went to bed really early, still trying to get over the flu, and I kinda...forgot. I always forget things when I'm sick. Lol. Well, anyways, here it is, and I'm okay with this chapter, mehh', tell me what y'all think. xD Have fun, and enjoy.
Chapter Five – Hope
Four Breems Later…
Bumblebee's tiny form curled itself up into a tight ball whilst it pressed against the cool rock of the cave, wriggling itself deeper into it in fear of being discovered again by the monster that had hurt him. His optics were shut tightly and pale blue energon tears refused to stop leaking from under his lids, smudging against his cheekplates every time he rubbed them into the ground, not caring if dirt encrusted his metal skin.
The mechling was in recharge and the sounds of battle had died down to barely a whisper over the rain and rumbling thunder that emitted from the dark, blue-black sky. It was a Cybertronian storm, this particular categorized as of the most severe, and in usual cases such as these, Bumblebee would cuddle up between his mom and dad, letting them comfort him and kill every frightening crack of lightning that struck the air. Yes, whenever he was with them, everything terrifying and horrible just disappeared. But, he didn't have them anymore.
And that painfully wrenching fact was the one that made his little spark hurt until his chestplate stung. The only things spinning through his processor were death, agony, horror, fear…But, the youngling didn't know those words. He only knew that one of the bad people had killed his parents, the bad people had killed his brother, who was a mere youngling himself compared to the other Autobot veterans. Bumblebee couldn't let this go on, the mechling didn't want it to, nor would he allow it to.
"Th-That's what I'll be when I grow up. I wanna be like th-them." That's what he had told his parents those few days ago.
Bumblebee felt the need to be a soldier in his spark. The bad people took his family away, and when the time was right, Bumblebee would have to make them pay. No one could expect to do such a crime and get away with it. At least not in this youngling's book.
He shut his optics even tighter, forcing more frightening thoughts out of his processor. He almost went as far as deleting them from his memory banks, deleting them so he wouldn't have to face the nightmare any longer. He wouldn't have to remember his parents' death, or his brother's. Deleting the memories…It was so simple, so easy. But, then again, it was his past. It would always be real, no matter how hard he chose to ignore it. That's all deleting was – Erasing something from your mind, scrubbing it away. But, it would always be there.
Though he was in recharge, he wasn't dreaming about anything. He'd forced his processor clear. He concentrated his audios on the falling rain, jolting when lightning crashed or thunder sounded. The mechling only hoped Primus had heard his little prayer; He knew he surely needed desperate help. Bumblebee couldn't fend for himself, being so young. Like the drone had said, he wouldn't last for a breem. He had made it through four, but, with his hungry tanks running on empty and his spark lonely, he wouldn't last another week. If food wouldn't be given, Bumblebee just wanted a spark near. One warm and comforting.
That was dire to any youngling.
//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\
Another Breem Later…
The loneliness Bumblebee couldn't handle any longer. He started sobbing, uncontrollably, blue optics wide and droopy on his tear streaked faceplate. He hadn't budged a bit from his curled up position, the sounds of the storm now frightening him to a point he had never felt before. The longing for help was overriding his systems, the desperation for hope.
And it quivered when the mechling heard footsteps.
He sat up instantly, his fit of sobs quieting instinctively to a collection of whimpers so whoever was approaching would not discover his location. Bumblebee heard no voices, but he did hear not one pair of footsteps, but two. Choking out a small cry of despair, Bumblebee tucked himself in a tight corner, little yellow knees pressing against his spark chamber. He could feel his own tiny heart beating furiously as the footsteps kept coming. He didn't want to die like his family, he knew he couldn't take that type of pain.
His head buried in his legs and he started shaking.
"P-Primus," the bot prayed again. "N-No…"
The footsteps stopped abruptly.
Too suddenly…altogether.
Bumblebee could feel optics on him, watching, scanning, but no words yet.
Shakily, slowly, the youngling lifted his head, strangled sobs hiccupping from his throat as he met the optics of a towering mech. Another stood by his side, but Bumblebee couldn't keep his optics off the gallant one before him, sleek blue armor decorated in red flames that swept elegantly against parts of his body, his entire form "muscular," incredibly well-built and designed. His faceplate was blue and silver, optics electric blue that sent shivers up the youngling's circuitry. A retractable battle mask pulled back to reveal metal lips, not formed into a frown or a smile, but a line as the tall transformer looked down at the shivering mechling, optic ridges angling.
The much shorter, silver mech at his side took a step forward, leaning down to get a better look at the frightened bot. Dark optics scanned and noticed the injuries the mechling's chest had, his processor realizing how much pain the little one could be in.
He pulled back. "Prime, s'a youngling," the mech said in a soft voice. He looked down at Bumblebee with sympathy in his optics. "…Here all by 'imself? That's not right…"
Optimus stepped before the mech, his optics warming to a deeper blue as he kneeled down to more of the youngling's level, the towering mech keeping his optics focused on the bot's.
"That is quite unusual…" he said quietly.
When Bumblebee whimpered, Optimus shook his head, a very faint smile curving his metal lips.
"Don't be afraid, little one," cooed the mech gently. He held out a palm to the bot, but Bumblebee only squirmed away. The mechling felt as if he couldn't trust anyone yet after what happened and Optimus certainly wasn't any ordinary transformer. His presence alone was overwhelming, let alone absolutely terrifying in a bot's optics.
Optimus cupped his other hand around the mechling's body, easing the bot into his hand, being careful not to injure him any further or press too hard against wounds that were unseen to his optics, unaware to his processor. Despite Bumblebee's protesting wriggles and cries, Optimus sat the bot in his palm, then rose to his normal thirty plus feet, holding the mechling before his blue optics.
The silver mech sat his hands on his hips, giving the mechling a slightly skeptical stare. "Wha'do we do wit' 'im?" he asked, slitting his optics some. "Keep 'im?"
Optimus nodded slowly, watching as Bumblebee shivered in his hand. The mech, as war hardened as he may appear, used his thumb to gently stroke the mechling's body, calming his cries to mere twitters in his little throat. Optimus smiled.
"Yes, Jazz, we can't leave a youngling to fend for himself," he said in a voice that resonated in his chest wonderfully. "We'll have Ratchet examine his wounds…" He thumbed over the bot's spark chamber, carefully, feeling the broken and frayed wires that staccatoed stinging sparks into his little chest, causing him pain for sure. "His spark chamber is penetrated…"
Jazz leaned up. "Looks like someone snapped his wires," he said, furrowing his brow.
Optimus lowered the whirring bot to his chest with a single nod. "We'll have him repaired. He'll be good as new before we know it," he said quietly, running a finger over the top of the mechling's head. Bumblebee flinched, shaking as he looked up at Optimus. The gallant mech shook his head.
"Youngling, do not be afraid," he coaxed, patting the bot's cheekplate.
Bumblebee's antennae drooped, his body still quaking. He gulped.
Jazz took a step forward. "Kid, who did this to ya?"
Bumblebee only stared.
Jazz blinked, exchanging looks with Optimus. He took a step back. "Where're yer' parents?"
Again, Bumblebee said nothing. He only whirred.
"Yer' creators…?" Jazz was trying to make an effort in triggering the bot's memory, and make him talk.
But again, no response.
Optimus shook his head. "We best not debrief him now," he said. "He seems quite shaken." His hands moved around the mechling's small body, letting the bot lean against his burly chest. The youngling suddenly broke into a fit of sobs, crying out in shouts of despair as tiny yellow hands clung to blue metal, his optics shutting tight as energon tears spilled from them. His entire form shook, making Optimus shake his head yet again.
"D-Daddy…" he heard the mechling hiccup. "M-Mommy…S-Sparkfire…"
Optimus frowned. It was apparent the bot had lost someone, perhaps all three of those he sputtered. He dared not question Bumblebee now, knowing that it would only cause the mechling even more pain in his already wounded spark.
"P-Primus…" Bumblebee choked out.
His little cries wrenched the commander's own heart. He sighed.
"Whatever happened to you, youngling, will never come your way again," he coaxed softly. Bumblebee snuggled into Optimus' spark, aware that he was indeed a stranger. But, it was so inviting, warm, like both of his parents' merged into one mightier one, thrumming strong, assuring. The mechling opened his optics, lifting their innocence to Prime. He smiled down at him and stroked the bot's head.
"Never again, youngling, will this happen to you…"
A tiny smile curved Bumblebee's mouth. Prime felt his spark flutter.
"I promise."
