A/N: It's been a while. Sorry about that. All I have to say this time is this: When you enjoy someone's stories, please review. When you like them enough to message them, please do. You never know when that one person will be gone from your life. You don't want to regret never saying hello when you had the chance. Thank you all who have supported me in this dark time. Your reviews and messages mean more than I can ever say. The days are getting better for me and I think I have passed through the worst of the grief. Now it's the healing time...
My story is beta'd by the incredible Razorgaze. Please check out her story "Our Debt." There's a link to it in my profile page.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs. Please do not sue. I am not making any money and this is purely for fun.
I don't quite remember what happened next. One minute my clawed digits reached with a frantic need towards the release mechanism in his alt mode's door, and the next I was dumped onto the soft brown earth. There was a flash of memory, a bit of seeing 'Bee's holoform vanish into a million dots of light and his alt mode rocking on its axels at a steep angle. The door in my hand was suddenly open and just as suddenly I was dumped onto the ground.
I had about a nano-klik to try and scramble away, my vocal processor emitting the high-frequency keening of absolute terror. I couldn't remember who I was afraid of now. Was it the thought of being blasted by these two Autobots for my past crimes? Was it the thought of being branded a traitor and hunted down by the Decepticons? Or was it the processor-killing agony of being forced back into place as a Drone, to be under the command of Thundercracker again?
Or maybe, possibly, was I afraid of my own freedom to choose my fate?
"'Bee, get her!" Hound was saying. "She's going to go into shock-stasis if we don't calm her down!"
The thin whip-like appendages attached to my helm whipped out in my frantic escape attempt, the razor-sharp ends slashing at the armored hands that tried to restrain me. I didn't want to be touched, not if it meant having to choose one of those horrible fates in processors spun out for me. What good was this freedom of choice and self-awareness if all I could choose were bad things?
"NO!" I screeched, not even sure if it was in any human language or in Cybetronian. "NO! I won't do it. You can't make me! Please, don't make me choose this! I'm begging you, don't send me back. Don't kill me. Please, let me go. I just want to go!"
Curses mingled in the night air, some in human languages and others in our own, and all coming from the two mechs attempting to subdue me. Their armored hands dipped and wove, trying to penetrate the sharp net I wove as a defensive measure. I felt each slice to their hands, each time they snapped one of my tendrils either by accident or on purpose.
It hurt. It had never hurt before to loose one. Skywarp used to enjoy grabbing me by those ends and tying them around whatever uncomfortable item that happened to be around. And still, it wouldn't hurt. He would laugh as I tried to get free, and the others would join in. Only Thundercracker would defend me, and only because I was his drone. It was harder and harder to replace my parts as the war consumed more and more of our worlds.
That was the only reason he had stopped them.
It dawned on me, in that chaos and panic, that maybe Thundercracker had disabled my pain receptors on purpose. Whatever Sam had done to me with that kiss, whatever power that human processed that brought a real and true spark to life in my chamber, had reactivated those receptors.
I howled out my pain, both physical and the one in my spark as that realization filtered through my processors. Having no pain receptors meant I would go on and on, regardless of the damage I took, until I either completed my assigned tasks, or I offlined permanently.
And still those armored hands came at me, grabbing my parts like Skywarp would, trying to grab my chassis like Thundercracker would.
"It hurts!" I cried. "Please, stop hurting me! Stop! I didn't mean it. I'll do better next time, Master. Please!"
"Primus, what did they do to her?" Hound snarled, hands trying once more to reach me. "Fragging 'Cons! I'm going to have their sparks for this!"
"Gotta calm her down," 'Bee answered. "No field medic around to give her a sedative. Comm'ed Ratchet."
"Might as well be half a galaxy away at this point. He's not going to get here in time. We have to do this ourselves."
Do what? What were they going to do to me this time? Why did it have to hurt so much? I didn't have time to process anything further. A set of armored hands made it past my defenses, latching onto my chassis while the other set managed to corral as many of my tendrils as possible. I was lifted from the ground, regardless of the way my hands clawed at it, trying to find purchase in the soft earth.
What I expected wasn't what I received.
No sooner had my last servo left the brown earth, I found myself crushed against an armored chest. I froze, a mourning sound leaving my vocal processor this time, and waited. Waited for Thundercracker's chest plates to open, waited for his hands to activate the transform sequence and turn me into a cube to fit in his compartment. I was a drone, after all. I was pulled out for use as needed and returned to storage when I wasn't.
I never dreamed as a cube. I never pondered my existence, or what choices I wanted to make. I simply… ceased to exist. Vorns could pass before I was needed again. Vorns of literal nothingness. I whimpered again, all the fight leaving me. I wasn't strong enough to fight Thundercracker. And after this latest bout of panic, it would serve me right if he made me into a cube and then melted the cube down to slag.
I wondered idly if I would dream then, or if a drone suddenly made conscious of itself would be welcomed into the Matrix.
"Easy," Hound was saying, somehow managing to hold my tendrils and stroke them gently at the same time. "We won't hurt you. Primus knows you've been through enough. Easy now. That's a girl. Feel his spark. Let your own calm."
His spark? I onlined the optics I had shut off in my panic, daring to scan the mech before me. Bumblebee held my chassis against his, his grip as tender as I'd ever felt it. My spark chamber was on level with his, and his burned with such a gentle strength it literally froze my processors for a moment. I had never felt anything like that before. Sure, for moments I had felt Thundercracker's spark on the times he reactivated me. But it was never open like this. His energies had never felt like this.
My spark couldn't help but respond to that earnest open energy. It slowed, little by little, but finally slow it did to match the pulse of his.
My whimpers started to subside, and I dared to let one trembling three-clawed hand touch lightly on his chest armor. He hummed softly to me, a sound of encouragement. I let myself look up into his optics, mine so wide with fear. His so open with freely given strength.
And like that gentle touch from Charlotte hours ago, I allowed myself to let go of my emotions. I keened in his hands, both servos clutching to him, the tendrils that had tried to slash and cut now weaving around Hound's open palms, trembling, too, as they clutched at his fingers.
"Is she a sparkling?" Hound asked, amazement in his tone.
I felt 'Bee shake his head, and found that I was calm enough to realize that he didn't speak to me with a vocal processor, but with clips from human music and movies. In his holoform, he had sounded like Vin Deisel, and I only knew that from the movie Charlotte had put on in the background while we had talked.
"No," 'Bee replied, using a clip I had never heard before. "No, she knew you, Hound. She knew you from Iacon." The last word was spelled out.
I felt his shock in the way he jerked slightly at the admission, the sharp intake of air in his vents. But his hands remained still. He did not pull away.
"We have to tell Prime," he answered softly, fingers flexing in attempts to sooth.
"Agreed. Ratchet is already on his way. ETA in eight Earth hours. Four if Prime gives Silverbolt permission to subsonic it all the way. I think for this, he will."
Hounded nodded, and I felt a gentle scan from him, enough that I shivered under it and clutched tightly to 'Bee, to the warm safety of his spark. 'Bee responded with more of the humming sound.
"Maybe she should come with us," 'Bee said.
This time I shook my head. "Please, I just want to go back to Charlotte," I whispered timidly, terror leaking through the subdued tone. "Take me back to my roommate."