Am updating! Please enjoy. And suggestions for the next chapter would be welcome. ;)
"Hey, um, Ironhide?" Sam asked quietly. "May I speak with you a moment?"
"Sam!" Ironhide said happily. "Certainly. Come sit with me!"
Sam moved to sit in front of Ironhide, suddenly feeling very small. He cleared his throat and gathered his courage.
"You remember you said that if there was ever something I needed to talk about that others wouldn't understand I could talk to you about it, right?" Sam asked shyly.
Ironhide's face grew serious. "Of course Sam," he said. "Is something the matter?"
"Yes," Sam said, lowering his face as tears stung his eyes.
Ironhide's holo-form suddenly appeared and tilted his head up. "Tell me, Sam."
"I can't," Sam whispered. "I…I can show you though. Promise you won't hate me?"
Ironhide frowned slightly but nodded. "I could never hate you Sam."
Sam took a deep breath and slowly slipped off his jacket. As soon as it hit the ground, Ironhide gasped and grabbed his hands, pulling his arms straight to get a better look. Sam held his breath and waited for the inevitable question. He let out a soft sob of pain as Ironhide lightly dragged his fingers across his swollen flesh.
"What happened, Sam?" Ironhide asked, his voice broken.
Even as Sam answered, he knew that Ironhide already knew. "I started cutting. I…I think it's infected."
Ironhide couldn't help but give him a 'you think?' look. "Oh, Sam. Why?"
"You all were ignoring me. Prowl was being, well, Prowl. I just felt so numb, so lonely, so lost. Before I knew what I was doing, I sliced my arm open. I can't seem to stop now," Sam said brokenly. "And I'm afraid to tell the others, 'Hide. I don't want to see them hate me!"
"They won't hate you, Sam. They could never hate you. Well, Prowl, maybe, and maybe Sunstreaker, but they won't hate you. They'll hate the human population in general. I digress… We need to tell Ratchet so he can treat you."
"I'm scared," Sam moaned, covering his face with his jacket and whimpering.
Ironhide, not his holo-form, but the mech himself, picked Sam up gently and embraced him while he stood. He held the boy against his chest as he walked into the base and straight to the med-bay. He knocked on the frame and Ratchet and First Aid turned from what they were doing and looked at Ironhide.
"We need to talk to you in private, Ratch," Ironhide said.
"We're a bit busy, 'Hide. Could you come back later?" Ratchet replied and began to turn back to his project.
"No," Ironhide said in a serious tone. "This is important. It involves Sam and his wellbeing."
Ratchet turned back sharply and ordered First Aid out. The mech complied as quickly as he was able and the door slid shut behind the younger medic. Ratchet strode forward and looked at the boy huddled in Ironhide's hands, scanning him for the first time in a while. He was immediately alarmed.
"He's got a fever. Give him here Ironhide."
"Let me talk to you first."
"Alright, what is it?" Ratchet asked irritably.
"Sam's been cutting himself."
The silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was no movement in the room except for Sam's shivering. He just knew the mech would hate him for what he'd done. Ratchet reached over and gently took him from Ironhide's hands and set him on the berth. He was shirtless in a moment and the medic began scanning his arms carefully, running his fingers lightly over the wounds, just as Ironhide had. Sam let out a sob and Ratchet ceased immediately.
"Oh, Sam, let me clean these for you," Ratchet crooned.
Sam sat there as Ratchet got soap and water and his holo-form began to gently clean the wounds. Even his light touch sent shockwaves of pain through him and he cried with Ironhide holding him. When that was done, Ratchet set about to drain the pus. His skilled actions still left Sam in tears. Ironhide left the room to inform the others of Sam's condition as Ratchet got some hydrogen peroxide to clean out the wound thoroughly. Sam balked at that.
"No! It's gonna hurt too bad!"
"Sam, please let me help you," Ratchet said somberly, his optics sad and pleading.
Sam couldn't say no. "I'll probably scream."
"Then scream. Just let me help you."
Sam took a deep breath then Ratchet poured the solution over the wounds. True to his word, Sam let out a blood curdling screech as the peroxide bubbled. It just hurt so badly! There was a crash at the door and Bumblebee raced in, his optics wild he was by the berth in a heartbeat, his holo-form securely wrapped around Sam, holding him as he sobbed.
One by one, the other mechs filed in, but Sam couldn't care less about them. He searched for Optimus' optics and when he met them, he couldn't keep them. They were so disappointed, so upset that Sam felt tears slide out of his own eyes and he turned his face away from the Prime. Bumblebee hummed behind him as Ratchet continued to tend to his arms. As the pain disappeared, Sam felt a sharp poke and he gasped and looked at the medic in confusion. Suddenly a wave of dizziness and exhaustion washed through him and his eyes closed.
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Sam woke up to the most bizarre conversation about butterflies. He lay there for a moment then opened his eyes. As soon as he did, arms wrapped him and he was pulled against a chest. He turned his face to see Bumblebee lying there staring at him with love in his optics.
"Sam," he greeted warmly, his voice heavy with sadness. "Ironhide told us why, but…why? Did you think you couldn't come to us?"
"You were all so busy with the new mechs," Sam whispered, averting his gaze.
Bumblebee forced him to look at him again. "We love you Sam. You should know by now that we will listen to your problems."
"You really care," Sam sighed. "I just keep forgetting, Bee. Sometimes it's hard to remember when you guys are never around to talk to."
"Yeah, well that's changing. As of now, I am your guardian full time unless Optimus really, really needs me. Even Prowl can't tell me what to do concerning you."
Sam smiled and snuggled into Bumblebee, a twinge from his arm making him flinch. He knew that Optimus was there; he could feel the optics boring into him. He hid his face as the Prime spoke.
"After all the progress we had made with you, you still are surprised when we opt to listen," he said with his deep voice.
"Yeah, well, nobody ever listened to me before you guys," Sam muttered. "What am I supposed to do? Ignore the way I've been raised?"
"No. You're supposed to let us help you!" Ironhide exclaimed. "You keep running away and hiding when you're hurt and need us."
"Yeah?" Sam asked as he pushed himself to sit up. "Well Prowl made it pretty clear that as long as he's around, I'm not supposed to be weak!"
"Getting help for problems is not a weakness!" Optimus shouted.
Sam flinched, cowering into his guardian at the tone. Optimus realized what he'd done and took a deep breath, calming himself. His holo-form self appeared in front of Sam and he reached out to stroke his cheek.
"I'm sorry for yelling, Sam, but you must realize that we do not think any less of you for coming to us with your problems, and we never will."
"In fact," Ironhide said kindly. "I am very proud of you for coming to me with your cutting, even though you waited a little too long for my liking."
Sam shrugged. "What else was I supposed to do, wait till my arms fell off?" He paused and there was an awkward silence. He searched for a subject and came up with only one. "What was all that about butterflies?"
"Oh, the Butterfly Project," Bumblebee said brightly. "It's a project to help people refrain from cutting. We thought it might be a lovely idea for us to try it and see if it would help you."
"Okay," Sam said slowly, still not sure about it.
"The rules are as follows," Ratchet began. "When you feel like you want to cut, take a marker or pen and draw a butterfly on wherever the self-harm occurs."
"Then you name the butterfly after a loved one, or someone that really wants you to get better," Bumblebee put in.
"NO scrubbing the butterfly off," Ironhide said sternly.
"If you cut before the butterfly is gone, it dies. if you don't cut, it lives," Optimus continued. "And if you have more than one, cutting kills them all."
"Another person may draw them on you," Jazz said with a smile. "These butterflies are extra special."
Sam arched an eyebrow. "Did you guys just quote all that stuff?"
"Yes," they all said in unison.
"So?" Bumblebee said after a pause. "Do you want to try it?"
Sam looked down at his bandaged arms. He didn't want to cut anymore; it upset his friends. But he knew for a fact he was hooked on the sensation, and that if he had known about how it felt before, he would have started ages ago. He felt warmth sliding down his face and he pressed into his guardian.
"If it'll make you all happy," he said quietly. "I'll try it. But can we wait until my arms heal a little? I don't think taking a marker to my arms is the best thing right now."
"Certainly," Ratchet said cheerily. "Now, time for sustenance intake."
Sam stared at him for a moment before sighing and letting out a soft laugh.
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Sam stared at the eight mechs in front of him. Bumblebee held a marker and was staring at him with such a kind expression that the boy felt a little ashamed of the reasons behind his cutting. He took a deep breath then held out his right arm and nodded.
"Okay, Bee. Try not to make it too fancy, okay?"
"I've got the perfect design in mind, Sam," Bumblebee said as he pressed the marker onto his skin and began to draw.
Sam sat there and marveled at the strange feel of the marker against his skin as he looked up at the ceiling. Bumblebee was done quickly and the boy looked down and smiled. There on his right wrist was a happy looking bee. The mech looked pleased with his work and handed the marker off to Ratchet.
The medic took his turn drawing a wrench, Ironhide drew a nice little weapon with quick strokes of the marker, and Jazz drew a musical note, each of them putting their names under it. Optimus drew an Autobot insignia on his left wrist and Hound drew a nice little rose, First Aid drew a medic's cross, and finally Beachcomber drew a peace sign.
The other mechs had either been too embarrassed by what had happened or didn't care enough to actually participate in the Butterfly project, but Sam didn't mind. It was nice just to see that three of the new mechs did care enough to help him. As he stared at the markings on his arms, a warm smile came to his face and he murmured the only word that could express his emotions.
"Thanks."