Ironhide, true to his promise, went back to check on the younglings every day, but Bumblebee didn't go to the temple with Ironhide again. After a few days, he wanted to visit, but he didn't really want to go with Ironhide. It was too much to be around his old friend now that he knew he was afraid. So he waited until Ironhide was performing his assigned duties to head out of the shield to the temple.

As he approached the building, he stopped to stare. It was beautiful, its colors standing out amidst the dull, plain buildings around it. That was one thing he'd loved about Earth. The colors were so beautiful. Painting wasn't typically done to buildings on Cybertron except for a select few, like the temple. Sunstreaker and the younglings had clearly been reapplying the paint, as certain colors weren't bright. It would be even more breathtaking once the rest of it was restored.

Hesitantly, he walked over and touched the door. It opened for him and he relaxed and cycled air before going inside. The fire was purple today, and Bumblebee spent a few minutes observing one of the torches before he headed for Primus's spark. He touched the door again, and it slid open, allowing him to enter.

"Well hello there, Bumblebee," Primus said, his voice sweeping over him in a powerful wave. Then a cloud of golden mist formed into his usual body, and the voice came from it instead of the spark. "I was beginning to think that you weren't going to visit again."

"I've had a lot to think about," Bumblebee said, shuffling his feet and looking away.

"Of course. And you've come to a conclusion?"

"Not exactly. Not yet."

"Would anything help?"

"I want to talk with Silverstorm, if that's okay?"

Primus considered him then nodded. "He's online, so I'll take you to him. Follow me."

Bumblebee brightened and followed Primus out of the room and down several back corridors. They came out in a gorgeous room that stretched high above them. Bumblebee immediately spotted Silverstorm sitting up in the rafters, gazing at nothing. Primus smiled at Bumblebee and gestured then left. Bumblebee took a moment to look around. It seemed to be a sort of party room, and though it was grand, it was a faded grandeur. There was polishing that needed to be done, and the designs needed reapplied or re-etched into the walls.

When he had satisfied his curiosity about the room, Bumblebee approached Silverstorm, craning his neck up. It took a few seconds to gather his nerve, which irritated him. But he finally managed to call. "Silverstorm?"

Silverstorm glanced down then sat up straighter, surprise on his face. Then he pushed off and ignited his thrusters, hovering downward until he landed on the floor.

"Bee?" Silverstorm asked, an anxious energy about him. "Is something wrong?"

Bumblebee shook his head. "Not wrong, per se."

Silverstorm's entire body wilted. "So Optimus doesn't want to see me?"

"He didn't send me, if that's what you're thinking," Bumblebee said gently. "I'm sorry. But I think he does want to see you."

"If he did, he'd show up," Silverstorm said dully. He turned away, his whole body drooped with defeat and disappointment. Bumblebee reached out to place a hand on the plane of his wing. Silverstorm jumped and twisted around.

"What?" he demanded.

"I've never known a flier well enough to ask about wings," Bumblebee said sheepishly. "They always act like it's wrong to ask."

"It's a great strength, but it can be our greatest weakness," Silverstorm said after a moment. "Firm touch is best."

Bumblebee was delighted that he had permission to properly observe a set of wings. He spent several long minutes sating his curiosity before Silverstorm turned and grasped his hands.

"Too much," he said apologetically. "Lots of sensors in wings."

"I understand," Bumblebee said. He squirmed a little then looked around. "Why are you in here all by yourself?"

"Nobody wants to be around me," Silverstorm said dully.

"Now that's not true, and I think you know it," Bumblebee said. "I think you don't want to be around other people. You always hide away when you're moody."

"Is that why you're hiding away?" Silverstorm countered. "You're moody, too."

Bumblebee looked away. "I don't know what to do, Prime."

Silverstorm scoffed. "Don't bother with the title. Optimus is right. I'm too immature to be a Prime."

"I will bother with the title," Bumblebee said. "Because you can't change that you're a Prime any more than you can't change the fact that you're not Sam Witwicky anymore."

Silverstorm gazed at him thoughtfully. "So no more Sam?"

"Or Silverstreak," Bumblebee said softly. "I get it now. Things are different."

"How were things before?" Silverstorm asked.

"All I could see was the war stretched out before me," Bumblebee said, staring at nothing. "I was created in wartime, for wartime. But the war… the war won't last forever. And when it's over, I'll have no purpose."

"War isn't your purpose, Bee, no matter if that's why you were initially brought online the way you were," Silverstorm said.

"What is my purpose?" Bumblebee asked. "If it's not fighting until I die, what is it?"

Silverstorm considered this carefully. "Love."

Bumblebee stared, waiting for more. "That's it?"

"It's hard enough, the way everything is," Silverstorm said. "Trust me, that's what I've been doing here all this time. Loving these younglings. It's hard sometimes. But it's so rewarding. Bringing out their gifts and talents has been so wonderful. They've all blossomed, if you'll take an organic word to describe it."

"But where do I fit in?" Bumblebee asked. "What about me?"

"Well, the war's not over yet. Pick up a few hobbies and see where they take you," Silverstorm encouraged. "That's what they've done. And it's what Optimus did, too."

"What do you mean?"

Silverstorm hesitated then gestured for Bumblebee to follow. "I'll show you."

Bumblebee followed Silverstorm through several hallways into a large library. He went to a back room and opened it up. When Bumblebee got inside, he gasped. It was a room dedicated to Optimus, and being so close with him, Bumblebee was featured, too. He gazed around, seeing his entire life and a good chunk of Optimus's that he'd never seen before.

"Wow," Bumblebee breathed. "Prime, what is this?"

"One of Primus's Prime Projects," Silverstorm said, laughing. "Try saying that fast. Anyway, he takes the time to make a room like this for every Prime."

"Is there one for you?"

"Yes," Silverstorm said after a moment.

"Show me."

Silverstorm squirmed then relented. "Primus! He wants to see your project about me. So I guess you can show me if you want."

Primus immediately appeared, beaming. "Of course! This way now."

Primus led them across the library into another room. Silverstorm squirmed before going inside. He peered around anxiously, obviously startled by how much of his life was represented. He stared at the pictures of his human life, then his metal human form, and finally to his current form. He trailed his fingers over the pictures. Bumblebee looked around.

"So short, yet long gone," he said sadly. "I'll miss your planet. And I'll miss Sam. It was such a unique time. But things have changed."

"Some of it is for the better," Silverstorm said. He looked around then his gaze landed on a painted version of his mech self. He glared at it then stressed. "Some is for the better. The rest… not so much."

"You shouldn't say stuff like that," Bumblebee scolded.

"Why not?" Silverstorm challenged.

"Because I think you're wrong. It's for the better, or it wouldn't have happened."

Primus laughed softly and clasped Bumblebee's shoulder. "That's right. Now, what say I go get some energon?"

Silverstorm sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I'd better have some. Or else Bee will be on my case."

Bumblebee didn't look pleased. "You haven't been intaking again."

"No," Silverstorm admitted. "And I still want to show you something. We'll be in Optimus's room."

Primus nodded and left, and Silverstorm led Bumblebee back to the other showroom. Bumblebee stopped and looked around. The room had so much detail, and it was stunning.

"Who can come in here?" he asked.

"Until Optimus's spark fades, just those that Primus allows," Silverstorm said. "He hasn't allowed most of my younglings in here. Only Mirage, and he's not supposed to talk about it. I'm not surprised you're allowed in here, though."

"I am."

"What?" Silverstorm exclaimed. "Come on, Bee, you're one of Optimus's closest friends."

"I haven't been acting very friendly lately."

"Why is that, Bee?"

"Primus said it was because I'm scared."

"Are you?"

There was a long pause then Bumblebee nodded. "I'm not scared of fighting, Silverstorm. I can run into gunfire and be fine. But what will happen to me when it all stops? That's what scares me. I have nothing outside of this war. Nothing. I was made to fight and came online primed for war. I didn't have a choice."

"That sucks," Silverstorm replied.

Bumblebee froze then glanced up. A staticky whine burst from his vocalizer and Silverstorm grasped him.

"Bee?"

"It does suck," Bumblebee sobbed. "I've killed so many mechs, Silverstorm—I don't even know how many—and I had to do it. Society won't take somebody like me. I'm a monster. And I never regretted it until I started thinking about what would happen after the war. War crimes are punished so severely. That's one reason the Cons fight so hard."

Silverstorm curled close to Bumblebee, clicking and whistling from his vocalizer as he soothed his old friend. He'd never thought of any of that, but it was clearly destroying Bumblebee.

"You're just having a rough time of it, aren't you, Bee?"

Bumblebee nodded as he spit static then shivered. "I don't know how to tell the others. They all had lives before the war, except for Hot Rod. And he feels kinda like I do, and he doesn't know how to talk about it either."

"You need to tell Optimus," Silverstorm said.

Bumblebee was so surprised by the suggestion that he stopped whining for a moment. He stared at Silverstorm, unable to believe it. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with him?"

"He doesn't want anything to do with me," Silverstorm said flatly. "If he did, he'd seek me out. I haven't left."

"Yeah, that's kind of the problem," Bumblebee said. "Maybe if you'd leave the temple, Optimus would visit. He's not exactly avoiding you."

"Still?" Silverstorm demanded then waved his hand. "Don't listen to that. I know he's avoiding Primus. I get why."

"You do?" Bumblebee asked.

"Yeah. It's intimidating and terrifying. What if he disapproves of everything Optimus has done up to this point? It would destroy him because he was doing his best. I get it."

Bumblebee nodded slowly then cleared this static from his vocalizer. "You think I should go to Optimus, then?"

"He's concerned about you. Really concerned, Bee."

"Is he?" Bumblebee asked then laughed softly. "I suppose. But how do I begin?"

Silverstorm grasped Bumblebee's hand and led him deeper into Optimus's room. He stopped in front of a young Orion Pax stooped over a table with a Cybertronian paintbrush in his hand, tracing out one of the story glyphs that decorated the temple.

"Begin where you need to," Silverstorm replied then turned and left the room.

Bumblebee stared after him, puzzled, before he turned to gaze at a part of Optimus he'd never met. None of them had. Leaning close, Bumblebee studied the beautiful painting. Then he followed the pictures, watching as Orion became a singer in the temple just to get near the story glyphs. He'd found something better but had never lost his passion for story glyphs. He was an expert, but it was something he'd hidden from them for so long.

Bumblebee could still remember when he'd caught Optimus painting for the first time. He'd been so flustered, so shy, and he hadn't even realized how entranced Bumblebee had been by the art. He'd begged Bumblebee not to tell, but soon after Jazz had discovered it too, and there was no keeping him quiet. Optimus was so good at it, and it wasn't war-related. Maybe that's why it had fascinated him so much. He retraced his steps then touched the painting Silverstorm had led him to.

"Everything has a beginning," Primus said from behind him. "As Optimus to show you some of his early works when you talk to him later."

"I'm not talking to him," Bumblebee muttered. "He won't understand."

"He never will if you don't talk, Bee."

Bumblebee turned to gaze at Primus. Primus gazed back then handed him a cube of energon. Bumblebee nodded. "Thank you. Where's Silverstorm?"

"Sulking again, but he's intaking energon. I don't think you should talk to him again today."

"Can I stay here and look around awhile?"

"Most certainly," Primus said. "Just remember that you have been given a privilege today, coming into my projects before they're complete."

"Yes, Primus. And thank you."

Primus smiled then disappeared into a burst of golden mist. Bumblebee turned back to the wall and then went the other way. Everything had a beginning, and everyone had a beginning. Since he was allowed in here, he'd take a look and see where his Prime's life began, and he'd take his time with it too. Then, maybe he would talk to Optimus. He just had to figure out where he needed to begin.