A/N: This takes place a few weeks before the start of my fic Iridescent. But you shouldn't have to read that for this to make sense. In my head Bumblebee is around the equivalent of seventeen here whilst the twins are about nineteen. Hope you enjoy! Xxxxxxx

"PRIME!"

Optimus jerked awake at the sound Ratchet's voice shouting over his internal comms, accidently knocking to the floor a pile of datapads that he must've fallen asleep on top of.

"Yes Ratchet?" Optimus said, bending down to place the fallen datapads back onto his desk.

"You're sparkling is currently overcharged on highgrade in my medbay."

Optimus nearly dropped the datapads again in shock.

"Is Bumblebee okay?" He asked, concern for his ward over riding the many questions that statement posed.

"He's as fine as one can be after drinking an entire bottle of the twins' moonshine." Ratchet answered, the familiar cranky tone, reassuring Optimus that the damage was not too serious.

"I am on my way."

As Optimus marched towards the medbay, the questions previously overridden, now sprung to the forefront of his mind.

Why would Bumblebee be drinking? How did he gets his servos on the twin's secret stash? And what would possess him to drink enough of it to end up in Ratchet's medbay?

It didn't make sense to Optimus that the newspark that he had found in the ruins of The Well could be drinking.

Although he guessed that he shouldn't be too surprised considering that Bumblebee was due to get his final upgrades in a couple of weeks. Optimus supposed that it was only natural that Bumblebee would get curios about such things.

Outside the medbay, Prowl was currently reading Sideswipe and Sunstreaker the riot act, listing off all of their current offences which included but not limited too; indecent behaviour, production of moonshine and serving said moonshine to an underage mechling. The twins faces paled under the scrutiny, whether that was from their own over indulgent high grade consumption or from their dawning realisation of how much trouble they were in, Optimus was unsure. He suspected that most likely, it was a mixture of both.

Inside, Bumblebee appeared the picture of misery. He was hunched over the edge of a berth with his doorwings drooped and his head in a bucket.

His eyes widened in panic when he spotted Optimus standing the doorway.

He opened his mouth, probably to protest that he hadn't been caught drinking when he was cut off by his own spew, regurgitating into the bucket.

Optimus hurried across the medbay to his side. No matter the circumstances, the Prime hated seeing his sparkling in pain.

He rubbed the space between Bumblebee doorwings like he had when he was little until eventually the young bot had finished emptying his energon tank.

Ratchet switched the now full bucket for an empty one.

"Am I dying?" Bumblebee slurred.

Ratchet snorted.

"You're going to wish you are when you're sober enough for me to give you my dangers of underage drinking lecture!"

Optimus thought that was a bit ironic coming from the mech who's nickname growing up had been The Party Ambulance. But since Optimus preferred not having a wrench thrown at his head, he tactfully decided not to mention that.

"I'm sorry." Bumblebee mumbled, sounding so dejected that regardless of the splashes of energon now staining the bot's front Optimus couldn't help but put his arm around him.

For the first time in months Bumblebee didn't shrug him off, instead leaning into his touch. Over the past few years as his sparkling came ever closer to adulthood, Bumblebee had sought comfort from his guardian less and less. Even if the only reason Bumblebee was permitting it was due to his lessoned inhibitions, Optimus felt his spark warm.

"I should hope that this experience has been enough of a lesson for you to learn from without the lecture." Optimus said.

Bumblebee nodded, nuzzling against his shoulder.

Growing up in a war, Bumblebee's childhood had been anything but traditional. He'd never had the chance to go to just school or the cinema or the park. Until recently he'd never even met any cybertronians his own age before.

No, instead Bumblebee's childhood had been a serious of safe houses and self defence lessons.

In a strange way, Optimus was glad that Bumblebee was getting in trouble for normal mechling things for once. Not that he was going to tell Bumblebee that.

At least Bumblebee's first fore into high grade hadn't ended with him throwing up on Alpha Trion's prized organic scroll collection.

"Drink this." Ratchet ordered, interrupting Optimus's thoughts as he thrust a glowing purple liquid under Bumblebee's nose.

Bumblebee looked nauseous again at the idea of anything more to drink, but under Ratchet's glare reluctantly took a sip.

"Good now you shouldn't have to waste any more of my time again tomorrow morning because of a hangover."

Optimus fought the urge not to show his smile. As despite Ratchet's gruff words, he knew that the medic's actions showed the not so secret soft spot Ratchet had for the sparking. Because if it had been anyone else in this position, they would've been thrown straight to the brig to sober up the hard way.

"Now, Prime can walk you back to your room so you don't end up in any more trouble." Ratchet stated as he started to clean up.

"I'm okay." Bumblebee protested.

"Oh really?" Ratchet drawled. "Walk in a straight line for me."

Bumblebee pushed the bucket aside as he stood up on his unsteady feet. He didn't even make it one step before nearly faceplanting the floor. Luckily, Optimus managed to catch him by his scruff bar before he could do any more damage to himself.

Even in his drunken state, Bumblebee must've known that resistance would he futile as he didn't put up anymore fight when Optimus scooped him up.

Gone were the days when Optimus could lift Bumblebee with only the palm of his hand. But even on the edge of adulthood, Bumblebee was still a small bot. Optimus cradled him close, arms securing the bot's legs and back, allowing Bumblebee to rest his against his shoulder. Optimus easily carried the mech to his quarters.

Once there, he gently placed Bumblebee down on the berth, tucking the blanket of tarp under the mechling's chin.

As Ratchet's potion kicked in and Bumblebee drifted off, Optimus glanced around the room that was the closest place the young bot had ever had to a home. On shelves sat scavenged action figures from shows he'd never watched, attached upon the painted walls that showed sights he would never see. And by his bed, a set of twins knives that Optimus had tried to talk Jazz out of giving to him.

Because as much as Optimus wished that he could, he would not be able to protect the former sparkling from the horrors of the world. Something that even without a war, would still ring true. One way or another, Bumblebee was always going to grow up.

With a new sense of acceptance, Optimus was about to leave he heard a quiet voice mumble;

"Love you sire."

Optimus smiled, walked back across the room to place a kiss on the helm of his sleeping sparkling.

"I love you too."

A/N: Sorry! I am on a hype right now! So I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this! What did you guys think of the new Transformers One trailer? Xxxxxx