Author's Note: An unfortunately necessary filler chapter. It isn't entirely filler, but it certainly feels that way. Anyway, more action is soon to come. Props to you if you can guess what happens in the next chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter 17
Hiding became their main priority. Make no contact with anyone. Avoid towns that were largely populated. They stuck to largely deserted areas, never staying in one place for too long. They avoided making contact without the others unless absolutely necessary. Propaganda was put out, labeling them all as enemy number one with Ironhide's enraged form meant to show the humans why they were exactly that. None were surprised by the ease with which the American Government hid the truth from its citizens. It was easy for them to paint them all as villians now, with more than twenty years having passed since the Autobots were remotely relevant. New generations of humans had come about, those who did not know of the Decepticons and the fear they once cause the entire world. They only heard stories of great battles that brought them all to their knees and an ally that could not do enough to save them.
Sam occasionally visited his old home. It was difficult at first, and they had to make many preparations. Bee refused to let him go alone, and Sam refused at first to let him come with. It resulted in long bouts of arguing in the middle of nowhere until neither of them could find anything else to say and they both settled into a difficult recharge. In the end, Sam realized that there was no use trying to stop Bumblebee. He knew the other would follow him anyway.
It looked a lot like Sam remembered it, but with a very distinct lack of the family he once knew. In his parents once pristine garden and backyard stood a swingset. The driveway was now home to a minivan. His parents obnoxiously colored RV was nowhere in sight. The house was the same on the outside, but it lacked the touch of home each time they drove by. He wondered vaguely if this was how Bee had started to feel long ago. Each pass of the house made him feel more detached from them. He missed it, in a way: the constant nagging of his mother and father, the barking of those annoying lap dogs they always kept, and the strict curfews.
There was no going back to that, though. His family, his old life… Those things were long gone. This was his life now; the near constant hiding and fleeing from those who had once thought protected him. The government was hunting them, the very same government they had helped all those years ago. He wondered vaguely if Lennox and Epps had fought alongside Cemetery Wind. Would they have refused like he hoped they would have on the grounds that these were their friends? He hoped so. He really hoped so.
Granted, it was doubtful that either of the men would still be serving anyway. It had been twenty-five years since they had last seen them. Lennox and Epps had both likely retired and settled down with their families in the time since the Autobots had been forced into hiding. They likely had grandchildren by now. The same went for Mikaela, Leo, and Miles. All of them likely had actual families now. The image of all of Sam's friends, now nearing their late fourties, frightened him. The only reason his appearance had changed was because he had changed the parameters of his holoform. Otherwise, he would have looked exactly the same as he had years ago. It felt like barely a year had past, but it had actually been almost three decades since he had seen his friends and family. Most of them could very well be dead, for all he knew.
That had sent him into a very depressed state for a while. Any human he had ever known was either dead or would die soon enough, and he would barely feel the passing of such time. He spent a lot of time staring out at night, trying to imagine how they had spent their lives without him. His processor helped calculated the odds of each outcome he imagined: of Mikaela having her own body shop, Leo becoming some big business tycoon, Miles actually finishing community college… They all had likely long given up on seeing him again, as he should as well. But, that was the problem with being a Transformer; they lived long and never forgot, not unless something were to corrupt their memory banks. He would remember each moment with them, yet he would fade away into the dark recesses of their minds.
When he told Bee that this was troubling him, the other had actually laughed softly. He had run a single finger along Sam's face as he spoke to him. "Imagine how I must have felt before. I had feelings for you before your incident, Sam. You're strong, ambitious, brave… All very attractive qualities amongst us. But, you were human, and doomed to live a short life, to possibly forget me one day. I just happened to have gotten very lucky."
Sam had rolled his optics, pushing at Bee lightly. "You say that like I would have actually forgotten you."
"Maybe you wouldn't have." Bee acquiesced, shrugging some as he leaned back in the warehouse they had temporarily taken shelter in. "But, you would have lived maybe another fifty to sixty years, if I was lucky. You would have died, but I would remember every moment we spent together, relived them time and time again." The yellow bot peered at Sam with something akin to love in his optics, but Sam found himself briefly lost in the look. He laid a hand gently on Bee's thigh, cracking a sad sort of smile at him. "Sam, you will go through this same thing when it comes to your friends and family, but imagine how much worse it would be if it was someone you loved deeply. Humans may bounce from lovers, but that is generally not the case with Cybertronians. We love one, maybe two bots, romantically our entire lives. It is just how we are. If you were to die, my spark would never truly move on. For me, there is only you, Sam." Bee said this with such conviction, as if there was no truer thing in his entire life. He ran his fingers lightly down Sam's back, taking in the little shiver it sent through the other. Sam stared at him for several long moments before climbing up onto his thigh, looking up at him.
"Interface with me." It was a simple request, but there was so much behind those words. They had never tried to interface, mostly due to Sam's squeamishness whenever the topic was brought up. He admitted that while he knew it was vastly different from human intercourse, he could not shake the odd mental images he got that combined the two. Yet, there he was, asking for something that Bumblebee had long thought would not happen for at least another century. "I love you." Sam stated, putting his hands on Bee's chest plates. "And I want you to interface with me."
And that was that. Bee had long ago realized that there was nothing he would deny Sam, especially not this. It was simply a matter of waiting for Sam to want it as much as he did. It was a clumsy thing, resulting in awkward huffs of laughter as they shifted about into a position comfortable for them both that made it easy for them to connect to each other. But Bumblebee would definitely say it had been worth the wait. It felt so gratifying to finally feel that deep connection to Sam that he craved, to just briefly feel everything the other felt. Oh, how he longed for that deep connection to stay forever, to always feel as if his love was close to him.
He wanted to bond to Sam. He had long suspected that the other was his sparkmate, but it took that first awkward interface to solidify the idea in his processor. Sam was it for him. He had meant it when he said it. He simply had to wait for Sam to say he felt the same, and thankfully he was a patient mech.
. . .
It took nearly a year before Optimus Prime finally opened his bond to Megatron again, not having deemed it safe to find the other again until then. He was surprised by the warm reception he received from the other, a pulse of love/longing/want sent over the bond. It did not take them long to find each other after that. Megatron had headed into South America, finding it to be easier for him to hide out down there in the jungles than anywhere in America. Optimus met him half way, just outside of Mexico City, having been roaming the central United States himself.
They spent the first few hours they were reunited looking each other over, servos brushing against armor lightly in a manner that Megatron would have once complained about being "too human", but could not stop himself from doing at the time. It was a while before he was able to simply settle down beside the other, taking in the clear night sky above them. Their shoulders brushed against each other, likely scraping Optimus' paint. Neither cared, though.
"We should just leave, Orion. Our time here is up." In Megatron's opinion, it had been for a while. They should have left this planet after what happened in Chicago, but he had understood at the time that his brother felt the need to give his troops a much needed break.
He heard a long sigh beside him, "I know. But, we are scattered. We need to regroup. Then, we will leave."
"They are hunting us." Megatron tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but failed quite miserably at it. The creatures had thought to kill them, and use their dead comrades as bait to hunt the rest of them. "We need to leave."
"Soon." Optimus promised him, settling his hand on Megatron's thigh. Soon could not be soon enough for Megatron, but he would allow his mate a little more time, if that was all he asked for. He would not leave without Orion, and the other knew that. It was just a matter of waiting for him to be ready.
