Bumblebee squealed involuntarily as pain surged through him on electrical currents. It was difficult to perceive the passage of time through the white-hot agony that pulsed through him, but he gradually began to realize that Rick wasn't letting go. Rick was going to force him to obey or face oblivion. Bumblebee continued to squeal, unable to articulate even if he should have wanted to, blind in his pain, knowing it would stop if he just rolled forward, but also knowing that doing so would send him over the edge of the bridge and down to whatever lay below. Bumblebee might survive the fall, but Rick would surely be killed when they hit the bottom.

Bumblebee couldn't see through the static which filled his vision as the shock administered by the depressing of the button overwhelmed and scrambled his systems, he couldn't think straight, and the temptation to just give in was unbearable. Still, he held his ground and did not move, waiting for the end, which he was waveringly certain would be his own. He wasn't sure how long he could make himself ignore that he had a way out of the world of hurt he'd entered into.

He owed Rick nothing, and all he'd learned about Rick and his family said there was nothing good, nothing here that was worth saving. The more he'd learned, the more strongly he'd come to dislike Rick and his entire family. Besides which, Rick's own family didn't appear to like him either. Rick was mean, spiteful and arrogant and self-centered, with no redeeming qualities that Bumblebee was aware of. And yet still the Scout held his ground and refused to let the boy kill himself.

Bumblebee understood now that it was easy to want to save humanity if you saw them as being like Raf, Jack or even Miko. All of them were nice (or niceish, in Miko's case), each had positive qualities and clearly wanted to help save the world and cared deeply for people besides themselves, and had people who loved them. It was even easy to want to protect a human Bee didn't know, because he could imagine they had loved ones who would miss them if they were gone, could assume they had something good to offer the world. It was much harder to want to save someone like Rick, whom he had gotten to know uncomfortably well the past few days, and who seemed to have nothing good in his soul. Even if his death did make his family sad, Bumblebee couldn't really say he cared whether Fina or their father was sad, because the both of them were just as bad as -if not worse than- Rick himself.

Leaning across the dash as he was, Rick inadvertently hit the power on the radio, and a hideously bad, jangling rendition of some traditional Christmas carol blasted through the speakers. It jarred Bumblebee's concentration, and he let himself roll forward a couple of inches before regaining his focus on resistance. The deafening and bad music only added to his torment, but it also seemed to finally break Rick's resolve.

The release of the button was a new kind of torment, as raw nerves seemed to cringe in sympathy with one another, the memory of pain and remnants of electricity shuddered through Bee while Rick sat back and powered off the radio, which fell mercifully silent.

Rick got out so suddenly that the opened door bounced and slammed itself shut, staggered to the edge of the road and threw up in the grass. Wiping his mouth and straightening up, Rick looked around at the growing early darkness of winter. Then he staggered back to Bee, tried to open the door while leaning against it, almost knocked himself down and then managed to swing the door open and practically fall across the seats, nearly sliding onto the floor before catching himself.

Bumblebee wasn't sure if all that had been a reaction to the drink or music, but he was immeasurably relieved that Rick seemed to have had enough of hitting that damned button for now.

Rick muttered something unintelligible into the seat cushion.

{What?} Bumblebee asked without thinking.

Rick lifted his head and replied, having understood the questioning tone, if not the inquiry itself, "I said 'you're stupid'," that said, he flopped back against the cushion.

{Me? I'm not the one trying to dive face first off a cliff!} Bumblebee protested.

"I don't get what your problem is!" Rick said, lifting his face out of the cushion again, "You seemed willing enough to race this morning!"

Bumblebee was still shivering internally with residual pain, and his voice had a tremor in it as a result, but it didn't really matter because Rick couldn't understand him in the first place. Some part of him realized that yelling at Rick was a waste of time, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

{Forget the piece of scrap race!} Bumblebee exclaimed, {I'm just trying to keep you from getting killed! If you don't like it, why don't you get out and walk off the edge by yourself because I'm not going to carry you there!}

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Rick shouted, sitting up suddenly, then almost tipping over when that made him dizzy, "Fina was right, you're alive! Now will you quit making that awful racket!?"

Bumblebee whirred with frustration, so upset that he couldn't form a coherent sentence. Not only didn't Rick understand what Bee was saying, he seemed to think the Scout had stalled out just to prove a point, when really it had been to save Rick's life. Bumblebee would never have been able to endure that pain just to prove a point. He'd barely been able to in order to save a life.

In the dimming twilight, Bumblebee realized now even a sober human probably couldn't see the absence of the bridge ahead, and it was obvious a drunken one could not either. Rick did not appear to have noticed the sign about the construction on the bridge when it was upright, and now Bee had knocked it over so now it was not visible through the windshield.

"I told you to shut up," Rick said, leaning over and fumbling for his cell phone, which had become wedged in the seat cushions.

He dug it out and struggled to punch in a phone number. Evidently, he hit the wrong speed dial number, because he wasn't pleased with the person who answered the phone.

"Fina? Shit, I was tryin' to call Eddy," he paused as Fina responded on the other end of the line, "No, no, no, don't hang up. You're as good as anybody, I guess," a pause, "Yeah, whatever. Look, I'm stranded out here. Damned Urbana quit on me. Where am I?" he twisted in his seat to look for a street sign, but there wasn't one, "I dunno... somewhere near the race track, I think. Yes, of course I was racing! Look, your precious car is fine, it just stalled is all, it's being stubborn. Yeah, I know what I said. No, I'm not drunk!... okay, fine, yes I'm a little drunk, but this stupid piece of shit car-... you watch your mouth, I'll call it whatever I like... Just come and get me, okay?!... FINE!" he ended the call and slammed the phone down onto the seat.

It bounced, fell onto the floor and slid under the seat.

"Brat," Rick said, then tipped over across the seats again.

The silence that followed was an immense relief to Bumblebee. He'd had just about all he could take of people yelling and screaming at each other and him, not to mention all the crying. He'd never been around people who were so angry at everything, including themselves.

Bumblebee was nearly exhausted, still in pain, and so rattled that he almost couldn't believe he was on the side of those who were trying to save this crummy planet...

They'd had no luck at all tracking down a vehicle that might have been damaged by a collision with an Urbana 500 matching Bumblebee's description. And all their other attempts at narrowing it down were for naught. That left them with only the upcoming race. They could only hope that, not only would Bumblebee be there, but that the camera would pick up something that would tell them where he was. A car's state license, someone wearing a jersey for the local sports team... something, anything.

"I can't believe we're hoping Bee's reckless enough to participate in a demolition derby. Again," Arcee remarked unhappily.

"I don't think it's his choice," Raf told her, "I was watching the highlight reel on the site, and there's something not right about it."

"I'll say," Arcee said.

"No, not like that," Raf said, "I mean... there's something wrong with the way Bee's driving."

"How do you mean?" Arcee inquired.

"I mean the way he was driving... it wasn't... well, it wasn't like him. Like someone else was doing the driving and he was just along for the ride."

"Cybertronians ain't real big on behind the wheel drivers," Bulkhead said.

"I know," Raf told him, "But, somehow, I don't think Bee had a choice."

"He better not have," Arcee said, "Or else he'll need a pretty good explanation about all of this."

Rick didn't move for a long time. When he finally did, it was to turn on his side, whereupon he began snoring. It was over an hour after he called Fina that bright headlights finally cut through the night, and Bumblebee heard the distinctive purring of a Jaguar's engine. He knew that had to be Fina, though he was very surprised that Rick would have let her have access to the keys for the Jag.

Fina had barely put the car in park when she got out and ran towards where Bumblebee sat. She jerked open the door on the driver's side, startling Rick into semi-lucid wakefulness.

"Ricky! What the hell are you doing out here!? Don't you know the bridge isn't finished yet!? Ugh, your breath stinks, get your face away from me!"

"What bridge?" Rick asked, rubbing his eyes as if trying to clear blurred vision.

"No bridge!" Fina corrected, "Come and look!" she grabbed his arm and practically pulled him from the car, then dragged him over to where he could see that there wasn't a bridge just ahead, "SEE!? See the obvious lack of bridge!? If that car had let you go forward, you'd be in several bloody pieces on the river bank. Down there!" she pointed emphatically.

Comprehension was slow to come to Rick. When it finally did, he slid from Fina's grasp and onto his knees, then onto his hands and knees.

"Oh," he breathed, "Oh God, I'd be dead."

"You sure would," Fina said, heatedly crossing her arms and exhaling sharply, her breath frosting in the light Bumblebee's headlights were providing.

Ignoring her, Rick staggered to his feet, and swung towards Bumblebee. He lost his balance and fell forward, catching himself by planting his palms on Bee's hood.

"You...," he said softly, "You didn't break down... you... you saved my life."

"You're not the only one he's saved," Fina said quietly, "There's something special about this car. Something dad's keeping from us. And that button he told us to press... that hurts him somehow. The car, that is. And the buzzing we were told to listen for? It seems to be how he talks."

"He?" Rick wondered.

"Yes, he."

"But cars are always 'she'. That's tradition," Rick said, still leaning on Bee's hood.

"Well, this one isn't a she."

"How can you tell?"

"He doesn't feel like a she," Fina replied with a shrug, "He's just a he, that's all."

"Well... does he have a name?" Rick asked, looking at Fina now, but still leaning heavily on Bee.

"I dunno," Fina shrugged, then crossed her arms again, "Probably."

"He sounded like a hornet's nest when he was yelling at me earlier," Rick said, then rubbed the back of his neck ruefully, "Probably telling me off for trying to drive to my death."

"Yeah, but he didn't seem to like it when I said he sounded like a wasp," Fina replied, "It seemed to make him mad."

"So, like... now what?" Rick asked, "I mean, what do we do?"

Let me go home, Bumblebee thought desperately, but there seemed no way for him to make them understand.

"Well, we can't just leave him here," Fina said.

"I'm supposed to be racing again in an hour," Rick told her, "With this car."

"You're thinking about racing now!?" Fina exploded angrily, "That's what you're worried about?!"

"No!" Rick snapped, "But I made a commitment. I said I'd be there."

"Oh like you've never broken your word before."

"Not to Tracy," Rick said quietly, after a pause.

Fina fumed, then finally took a deep breath, "Alright, fine. If the car will start, I'll lead you back to the race track and you can finish what you started. But-" she waved a finger in his face, "You owe me."

"Fine, sure, I don't care," Rick said, pushing past her and using Bumblebee for support as he maneuvered around the car and into the driver's seat, "Let's just go already."

Fina shut the door for him and ran back to where she'd parked the Jag. Bumblebee was tempted to just not start and end this before he got in any deeper. But he couldn't really think of a good reason to stay out here, and he found that he did sort of want to race again, even though he was increasingly concerned about Rick's safety. He couldn't think of a way to get home without securing the cooperation of these two, and it seemed like winning this race for Rick might be a step towards that.

Still, he hesitated when Rick tried to start his engine.

"Come on, I promise I won't try to get in a wreck this time," Rick pleaded.

Reluctantly, Bumblebee turned over his engine, backed up, turned around and followed Fina back up the road. He couldn't think of anything else to do. Even though they knew now that he was alive and could be hurt, neither Rick nor Fina had taken a single step towards offering him his freedom.

As he moved, it came to him that he really wasn't up to racing right now. He hadn't moved since his refusal to drive off the edge of the unfinished bridge. Now he was moving, he felt the full effects of what had just been done to him. He had to work harder to get up to speed, and turning was difficult. Once he started moving, he realized the only thing he wanted was to stop. Left to his own devices, he'd have decided moving wasn't worth the trouble.

But a part of him knew that, if Rick didn't race with him, Rick would race with the Jag. In his present condition, Rick really would get himself killed. However Bumblebee felt, whatever he thought of this people, he couldn't just let that happen. Not when he could do something to prevent it. He wasn't really sure that he could prevent it but, if Rick was going down, Bumblebee was going with him.

Bumblebee hadn't started this, and he didn't owe either of these kids anything, but he'd come too far to abandon them now, much as he might have liked doing that.