A/N:Hey guys! I'm sooo sorry for not updating in over... seven months? Jeesh, i understand the impatience, but it was either complete the story or lack in my studies for my Finals. And I couldn't do that, I so I had to leave the 'fic while I finished my Final Year in School- I'm (hopefully!) going to college in the next year or so, after I take a gap year! I'm SO EXCITED!

So, while I've been slaving away at study (shudder) you guys have been busy! Thank you so much for you're time and patience. Honestly guys, Sorrows wouldn't be here without you. I promise I will try updating this as often as possible and I will hopefully have it finished within the next month. Thank you again for all your patience- I give each and every one of you guys a chocolate factory of cookies for your support!

Peace, love, chocolate and a big bag of angst,

PassionandPromise

xoxox

Chapter Six

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Bumblebee woke pleasantly, Sam in his dreams. He remembered how those kisses had affected him, how each caress Sam had given him with those undemanding fingers of his had nearly warmed his skin. Each small, whispery moan from Sam's throat would spur him on, until Sam had to stop, out of pain. He'd forgotten about the pain Sam was in. And so he reluctantly carried Sam toward Rachet, who swore that Sam needed rest, not an accelerated heart rate and ragged breath.

So Sam slept in the med bay, and there Bumblebee had drifted off into a deep recharge.

And now, he was watching the boy sleep on the white covered bed, skin deathly pale- normal for him- wishing for those brown eyes to open- the only colour on his body which was not so creamy.

"Bee…" Sam whispered in his sleep, snuggling closer to under the covers, and inside, Bumblebee felt his spark glow with happiness. Inside him was Sam's spark, the one which almost killed him. Even in that, Sam was kind, and wanted to see it once it had become a hatchling. Bumblebee knew the process wouldn't take long: it was all about whenever the hatchling so desired to become a mech. Maybe it would be a month, it could take three, but whenever the time came, Sam would be waiting.

Bumblebee wondered what Sam would be dreaming about, if he was in it. At least Megatron wasn't there anymore, although he couldn't be too hasty to say, as in another second, there could be a sudden, strangled cry, and then the peace would shatter into a thousand, million fragments. Did Sam see Bumblebee the way he saw him? Was it love that Sam so wanted? Or was it some sort of peace of mind, some solace of safety, after all that happened? 'No,' Bee thought: that was not it. Sam didn't get carried away by his emotions, in fact, he rarely lost himself in his more spiritual self. This was love, the kind of love Sam wouldn't be able to explain.

Ditto for Bumblebee.

Bumblebee couldn't explain how he felt about Sam. Sam was right for him. Sam was perfect, with all his flaws. Sam was who he wanted to be with.

He couldn't even put it into the words of music he found on those radio stations he usually tuned into. Was this normal? Was he normal for loving, in his own words, an alien?

Sam wasn't an alien, but he was a different species.

What could they do? Sam was helpless, and needed Bee more than he liked to say. If Bumblebee was to get up the next day, and leave, Sam would despair, possibly lose his mind. It wouldn't surprise Bumblebee, as it would happen to him too.

Right now, all he could do was watch over his charge, and wait for the ruin to rise.

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