The train had stopped, the rail-car Bumblebee was trapped inside detached and pushed off to a siding. For hours there had been activity outside, but the car itself and Bumblebee inside went ignored. Bumblebee made no sound to attract attention. He couldn't. Outside there were humans, who might or might not know of Cybertronians. Even if he got their attention, Bumblebee could do nothing to convince them to free him, not without revealing the truth of what he was. Even if he did that, they would not be able to understand him. Only one human had ever understood him, and that was Raf.

If they were MECH, Bumblebee was not keen to remind them of his presence. He much preferred them to ignore him, forever if at all possible. He'd rather die of rust than have MECH take him apart.

But, as night fell, there came some loud shouting. The side door of the rail car was slid open and artificial light flooded the inside of it. Bumblebee's visual sensors were momentarily dazzled. Once they adjusted, he saw a man had climbed up into the car and now stood, his face turned to shadow by the back-lighting so that Bumblebee couldn't see his expression.

"My, you are a beautiful vehicle, aren't you?" the voice was unfamiliar, the intonation cold.

Bumblebee did not respond, not even to burr irritably.

"It's too bad you must be conscious to function," the masculine voice continued, "It would be better for you if there were another way."

That sounded ominous, but Bumblebee refused to make a sound that would reveal his fear. There was no shame in being afraid, but nothing good had ever come of letting the enemy know you feared them. And Bumblebee had no doubt but that this shadowy figure was for some reason his enemy.

Someone on the ground got the man in the rail-car's attention. He turned and the person on the ground passed something up to him. In the unhelpful lighting, it looked very much like a car battery.

Bumblebee felt a panic welling up in him then. If his hood was lifted, he possessed something which looked to a human like a car battery, but that was a disguise just as his vehicle mode was. What was actually inside the casing very much needed to remain attached if he was going to continue 'functioning', as the man had put it. If they intended to pull it out and replace it with that car battery... Bumblebee didn't want to imagine the pain he would suffer as a result, but he did it anyway.

As the man approached, Bumblebee issued a burring growl and shifted gears. His engine roared to life and, in his panic, he attempted to fly into reverse despite the physical impossibility of it. He felt his body straining to meet his demands, but couldn't break the hold of the wheel clamps and chains.

"See? See, this is why it would be better if you were unconscious," the man said, "Because you cannot be allowed to resist. Not after tonight. Once I have finished, you will obey, like it or not."

Bumblebee liked the sound of that even less than anything he had heard up to now. He shifted gears and tried to launch forward, with no success. He hurled himself at his chains in an attempt to transform, but they gave him no room to do it and held fast when he tried to break them.

Even as Bumblebee continued to struggle, the man came up to his hood and tried to unlatch it. Bumblebee was having none of that, not willingly anyway. At his resistance, the man turned and called up some help. Bumblebee had in reality very little strength when it came to keeping his hood closed, and a few men with crowbars were able to pry it loose. Unable to see beneath his own hood, Bumblebee's horror increased tenfold. The not knowing what they were doing, the fear of the pain he was certain was coming, the overwhelming sense of doom only served as fuel for his continued panic and he kept fighting his restraints even though he knew it served no purpose and would only damage him if he kept on doing it. But he found he couldn't make himself stop, he was too frightened.

"Now don't worry," the man said, "I'm not going to dismantle you. I'm only going to control you."

Bumblebee didn't find that at all reassuring. The next thing he felt was a wire being cut. He almost wailed, more from shock than pain, but instead he growled, and his engine roared in response. It didn't do him any good, there was nothing he could do. But that had never stopped him from trying before.

Bumblebee understood now what was happening, though he wasn't sure how or why. Whatever that object was, it was being wired in with the intent of making it possible for a human to have physical control. To Bumblebee, that was perhaps an even more horrifying prospect. He'd been controlled before, and he hadn't much cared for it then. He only hoped that this wouldn't be as bad as having Megatron in his head. It seemed unfair to have to think of it that way, but the only way he could find to stifle the panic and regain his composure was remembering what literally having Megatron in his head had been like and realizing that -whatever happened next- it wouldn't be as bad as that had been.

Calming himself, Bumblebee finally cut his engine and quit thrashing. It hadn't been doing any good, and had only served to strain parts of him that weren't designed for it. He wasn't giving up, merely biding his time. He could not get away now, had proved that beyond any doubt. It wouldn't do any good to tear himself apart trying.

"We are a little busy right now, Rafael," Ratchet was the one who picked up when Raf called the base.

Raf skipped apologizing and asking what was up and got right to the point, "Is Bee okay?"

There was a pause. Ratchet seldom paused before answering unless the person he was talking to wouldn't like what he had to say. Even then, it only happened when he himself didn't like what he had to say either. Raf felt his stomach tighten with worry. He'd only suspected something was wrong before. Now he knew. He waited, trying not to get too worried before he knew what was wrong. The first part of the pause could just signal some sort of defeat, like maybe Bee wasn't picking up because he felt badly about it. But the pause lengthened, and Raf had begun to suspect the worst by the time Ratchet finally answered.

"We... ah... don't know. Bumblebee broke radio contact, and we've lost tracking on him. We're trying to find him right now," Ratchet said finally.

"Bring me over," Raf said immediately, "I want to help."

"If I believed you could, I would welcome the help. But frankly I don't see how-"

"At least let me try," Raf insisted.

There was another pause. Ratchet knew better than to question Raf's ability to use technology to accomplish his goals. If anyone could find Bumblebee using Earth tech, it was Raf. Ratchet might be the expert with Cybertronian technology, but Raf could use Earth tech far more efficiently. If they'd lost track of Bee, it was possible that using satellite tech might help. Possibly even just tapping into street cameras in the area or something. Ratchet knew better than to turn down the offer.

"Alright. I'll send Bulkhead to pick you up."

"I'll be waiting," Raf replied.

It didn't take long for the man to finish whatever it was he'd been doing and close the hood. Bumblebee flinched at his hood being slammed down the way you would with a car that was old and broken. Slamming the hood like that was a good way to make a car old and broken before its time and Bumblebee especially didn't care for the loud noise that reverberated through him as a result. He buzzed a sharp protest, but he didn't bother to articulate because the man wouldn't have understood his words anyway.

"Sound effects will get you nowhere but in trouble," the man said, walking around to the driver's side and opening the door.

Bumblebee wouldn't have let him do it... only he couldn't seem to stop him. A prickle of new unease and knowing dread struck him, and he tried to turn over his engine – only to find out he couldn't. He told himself not to panic. Whatever he did, he must not panic. Still, he couldn't quit the internal trembling. He didn't like this, nor where it was going... wherever that was.

When the man slid into the seat behind the steering wheel, Bumblebee finally got a good look at him. It didn't help. Bee didn't recognize him, and he looked like a normal sort of person. Not real tall, not real short, medium build, brown hair, ordinary sort of face, somewhere near his forties or fifties probably. He was the kind of human Bumblebee would probably not recognize in a lineup.

It occurred to the Scout that the man's voice hadn't been overly menacing or apologetic, just sort of generic and unassuming. Maybe he didn't realize how cruel he was being, or how violated Bumblebee now felt, or how scared the Scout was. Not that Bee had any means of conveying that.

Pulling out a small tool, the man leaned over the dash and started prying out Bee's comm unit. Almost involuntarily, Bee began to buzz protests, even though he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"We can't have this being accidentally reactivated," the man explained, "Besides, something else needs to be installed here."

That sounded ominous, and Bee fell silent as the comm unit was pulled out and handed off to another man who'd climbed up into the rail-car without Bee's noticing. It was traded for something that looked almost like it, but Bumblebee knew it wasn't. As it was pushed into place, he felt the wrongness of it against him. And then he felt a faint spark of electricity, and he liked that even less.

"Once this is hooked up," the man explained, "It will be possible to use it to send a pulse through you systems, just in case you get any ideas."

Ideas? What ideas? Bumblebee was now paralyzed, what ideas could he possibly have?

"Once you understand how all of this works, you may be tempted to defy your driver by cutting power," the man said, as if reading Bee's mind, "I'd advise against that."

Bee puzzled over that statement and what it had to do with the device that was being plugged into him until the man had it all set up.

"What I did first was prevent you from initiating actions. This will stop you from refusing to do so."

With that, he pressed the button on the device.

Electricity shot through Bumblebee like a bolt of lightning, and white-hot pain accompanied it. Bumblebee let out a squeal that wasn't entirely voluntary, and a shudder ripped through him as the electricity dispersed through him. It was so intense his sensors blacked out and, for a moment, he couldn't perceive anything but the pain. Even once it subsided, he still felt it pulsing faintly, carried on the energon in his veins. His visual and auditory capabilities seemed to creep back cautiously, and he realized only a second or so had actually passed. It was enough of a demonstration.

"I don't want to use that option if I don't have to," the man said, "But I must ensure your absolute obedience before I give you to my children. I want them safe, you see. Absolutely and completely. To make it perfectly clear to you: if this button is pushed repeatedly or for too long, it will kill you. I hope that's enough of an incentive for you to behave."

Bumblebee burred a quiet affirmative, even though he knew the man couldn't understand him.

"But don't worry," the man continued, "My kids haven't broken a Christmas present since they were very little, especially not one so unique and obviously expensive as yourself. You'll be well cared for."

For some reason, Bumblebee found that not at all reassuring.