Author's Note: So, don't expect this story to stay happy for much longer after the end of this chapter. Things are going to start happening soon. I'm not quite sure we are approaching the end, per se, but we are getting closer. I finally know how I want to end it. There may be a sequel after it, there may not. I'll decide that when the time comes. But for now, enjoy!


Chapter 15

Things fell into an odd sort of routine on base. With the addition of the seekers, they were able to patrol further out from the base much quicker. The decepticon threat was seemingly no more. Those that remained either went into hiding or fought them. None tried to join. The autobots did not count this as too major of a loss.

Sam and Bumblebee were actually inseparable. Where one went, the other followed. Ironhide began battle training Sam, using a holoform to help Sam go over basic hand to hand as well as shooting. He was small, the size of a mircobot or symbiote, so it was a bit odd training him at first, but he took to it easily enough. He could shoot as accurately as most of the autobots, and was more than capable of fending for himself if need be while waiting for back up. He certainly took to fighting better than other things.

About a month and a half after waking up, Sam lost the last remnant of his humanity. Ratchet said his for could not maintain his skin for much longer, so they went through the awkward process of… shedding it. Ratchet helped him program a sort of holoform around himself that resembled his human self, which made it a bit easier to deal with. But when he was alone in the quarters he shared with Bee, and he took down the holoform, he could not help but stare blankly in the mirror for hours. He looked like that Alice bot, almost, the one that had nearly killed him. All metal, but with slightly human features. Not that all of the bots did not resemble humans, just some more so than others.

It took a lot of consoling on Bumblebee's part to get Sam to start feeling comfortable again. He watched as the boy pushed away everyone he had deemed a part of his "old life"; his mom and dad, Mikaela, Miles, Leo… The only ones Sam did not push away were Lennox and Epps, both of which worked on base with the Autobots so that would have been easier said than done. He even tried pushing Bumblebee away, requesting a separate, smaller bedroom put into their quarters. It was small enough that Bee could only entertain in his holoform, and that hurt the mech deeply. He gave Sam his space at first, though, allowing him to isolate himself. Sometimes it was necessary. Eventually, Sam would come to him.

And he did.

Bumblebee's internal alarm went off in the middle of one night, awaking him from recharge. He left his optics shuttered, though, listening to tiny footsteps make their way across the floor. After several moments, a small form crawled into his bed and onto his chest plate before getting comfortable and drifting off to sleep. Only then did he online his optics to find Sam curled up on his chest, fingers gripping his armor tightly. Bumblebee sighed, settling a servo gently over the other and drifting off once more himself.

This happened several times before Bumblebee decided to actually let the other know he was awake and talk to him about it. He onlined his optics just as Sam was climbing onto his chest plate, watching the other almost sadly. "Hello, Sam." He greeted softly, startling the other. Sam looked to him with frightened optics, preparing to make a run for it. "Please, don't go. You can't keep running from this, Sam. This is unfair. It hurts to have you push me aside every day, and then wake up to you coming to cuddle up to me like nothing has happened between us. Why do you push me away, Sam? I have only ever shown you love and affection, yet you give me this." A lot more than Bee intended to say poured out, startling even him with how broken he sounded by the end of it. He wanted to wince internally at the look Sam was giving him, but did not. He simply waited for a response.

He did not get one that night. Or the next night when he tried again. After a few nights, Sam stopped coming. It hurt, but Bumblebee did his best to not let it affect his work. He threw himself into his duties, volunteering for more missions that got him away from the base. Everyone noticed the change, finding it odd how Sam stopped going along. He gave up on battle training with Ironhide as well, but many saw that coming. If anyone approached Sam about it, the boy simply ran off. If anyone asked Bee, he would just shrug and say he did not know much about it himself. But they all saw how much it hurt him, how reckless he became in the boy's absence. Many expressed their concern, especially Optimus, but Bee insisted each time that they did not need to worry about it.

One evening, after returning from a particularly long reconnaissance mission, Bee was awakened by his internal alarm. His optics snapped online, processor already overworked after not having recharged for quite a few days. What he found was Sam, standing awkwardly in his doorway. He looked like he desperately wanted to run, but did not. Instead, he slowly walked into the room and climbed onto the berth. He sighed, sitting beside Bee on the berth with his back resting against the mech's thigh. He fidgeted awkwardly with his hands as Bee waited expectantly. Eventually, he spoke.

"I… I have this really bad habit of unintentionally hurting the ones I love." Sam said softly, not looking to Bee. "I've hurt my parents more times than I can count, including before you guys showed up. I hurt Mikaela just by giving her a ride home that night. I hurt Miles by not talking to him. I hurt Leo by dragging him on a journey around the world and nearly getting us both thrown into international prison. I… I hurt Carly by not loving her enough. And I've hurt you, Bee." At last, he looked to the other. "I've hurt you too many times, and I don't deserve you."

Ah. It all made sense to Bumblebee then. That was why the other had been avoiding him; which, really only made the situation worse, but Bee would not bring it up. He stroked the other's head lightly with a finger, shrugging. "It is an unfortunate side effect of love, Sam. One that I am more than willing to put up with, thankfully. Are you?" It was a heavy question, and one that Sam did not answer immediately. Instead, he sat there, staring up at Bee as if he was some foreign thing he was just seeing for the first time. And maybe he was, in a way. Bee just continued to stroke the other's head lightly, waiting patiently for an answer.

He never got a verbal one. Instead, Sam pushed his servo away, climbing onto his thigh. He waited for Bee to finally understand what was going on and lie down before moving to lie on his chest plate, head over his spark. Bee supposed he did not need an answer as he settled a servo over the other comfortingly. Sometimes actions truly spoke louder than words.

. . .

It was a well-known fact amongst the Autobots that Ratchet's sparkmate, Wheeljack, had died in the fight against Sentinel Prime. Although, many would tell you he had died long before that, when he had to be reformatted after nearly going offline and had taken up the nickname 'Que'. But if Ratchet heard any of them say that, they would have had a new collection of dents, and possibly be missing an arm or two. Many were surprised Ratchet's own spark had not faded with Wheeljack's, as was the case with most sparkmates. What they did not know was that his was just fading much slower than most.

He had come to terms with the fact some time ago. The only other mech who knew was Jolt, who had operated on him after he had been rescued. Thankfully, the young mech had not shared this information with anyone. He had actually not known quite what he was seeing anyway, and had to ask Ratchet about it for confirmation, which lead to a long and drawn out conversation about sparks and sparkmates. One question that had popped up was why Prowl's spark was not fading after Jazz's had extinguished, which Ratchet had guessed was because Prowl was on the other side of the galaxy at the time and had not known of Jazz's passing until arriving on Earth to find his sparkmate was not amongst them any longer. He even asked why Ratchet himself had not died much sooner, to which he simply said, "Wheeljack would have preferred I continued living, even if for only a little longer than expected. Besides, your training is not done. I could not leave the Autobots without a proper medic."

Jolt had urged him to let Optimus know, which Ratchet had absolutely refused to do. It was none of Prime's business yet. He was not in critical condition, so there was no point. When it was close to his time to join the Well, then he would let his old friend know. Until then, he had work to do, especially with the constantly developing changes of Sam's body, which now very much resembled their protoforms. He would need to discuss various things they could do for him soon. But, that could wait until later. Ratchet still had plenty of time before he joined his sparkmate in the Well.

. . .

Optimus did not generally get visitors when he actually worked in his office unless they were scheduled visitors, like Prowl or Lennox. Yet, someone knocked lightly at his door, pulling his attention from the report he was working on for the American government. He sighed, setting it aside and calling for the person to come in. He was actually rather shocked when it was Megatron who entered, looking rather out of place. Optimus greeted him, waiting silently for Megatron to voice why he had come to visit him.

"It is tradition for a mech to ask for the Prime's blessing before bonding with their sparkmate." Megatron said firmly, and Optimus thought his spark had stopped to pulse. What was the other saying? He could not be implying what Optimus thought, surely, because he had not mentioned being sparkmates to Optimus ever, although Optimus knew he felt it. Fearing what he may say, Optimus simply nodded for Megatron to continue. "Although many have chosen to ignore this custom, I find it almost fitting now to follow the traditions of our ancestors, and ask for your blessing, Optimus Prime, to bond with my sparkmate."

"You know I would never deny you such a thing, brother." Optimus said weakly, finding the emphasis put on his name odd but not mentioning it. "Who is the mech with which you used to bond?"

Megatron smirked at the question, leaning over Optimus' desk. The Prime noted the playful twinkling in those crimson red optics, relaxing some at that. "Orion Pax. I'm sure you know of him. The little twerp seems to have found his way under my plating and into my spark. It's quite tragic, really, but I believe the human saying is, 'the heart wants what the heart wants,' is it not?" Optims only nodded, still processing what he was being told. "I figured it was about time. The war seems to have finally stopped, and things are settling down here. It seems only proper, does it not?"

"After so long, I imagine Orion would say to go frag propriety and bond with him already." The words left Optimus, unable to help himself as his spark raced and Megatron laughed brightly. It was not that sinister chuckle he had grown used to hearing since the start of the war, but the actual laugh of the other mech from before everything had headed south.

Megatron stepped away from the desk, and from Optimus, with a smirk. "Well, he will have to wait a little longer. I'll bond with him tonight, so long as he remembers the way to my quarters." And with that promise, Megatron left Optimus in his office. He could no longer focus on work, the growing excitement of being able to bond with the other at last almost being too much for him. He rearranged his schedule so he would have the next few Earth days off, knowing how it would take the bond some time to settle at first. Things were finally starting to look up, but Optimus did not know how long they would stay that way. He wanted to be able to savor every moment he could have with his sparkmate while he could.