I am updating this months later, I know.
The ocean stretched endlessly around the carrier, its rolling waves a gentle reminder of the passage of time. The soft rhythm of the water lapping against the ship was almost soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that had defined the last several days. Optimus stood at the edge of the deck, the sea breeze brushing against his battered frame. His optics scanned the horizon, but his thoughts were far away.
He was alive. Against all odds, he had been returned to life, pulled back from the edge of the Well of All Sparks by the sheer determination of Sam Witwicky and the courage of his allies. The memory of Sam's selflessness warmed his spark even as the weight of his recent resurrection—and the battle that had followed—pressed heavily on his mind.
The Matrix pulsed faintly within him, its new, strange, and ancient presence a soothing hum in his chest. It whispered truths he could barely comprehend, comforting him in a way he hadn't realized he needed. So many lives lost. So much grief yet to be reckoned with. The pain of loss still lingered, sharper than the physical damage to his frame, though that was no less throbbing. There was a pain shooting through his chest that he would have to ask Ratchet about. One of the lingering wounds from Megatron no doubt.
Sam's parting words echoed in his mind:
"You should go talk to 'Bee. He wouldn't admit it, but he took your death hard. Even harder than the others."
Bumblebee.
Optimus's spark ached at the thought of his young scout. Bumblebee had been at his side through some of the most harrowing moments of their long war, always steadfast, always loyal. He was the heart of their team, a beacon of resilience and hope. But Bumblebee had also endured more than his fair share of pain. Optimus had seen it in the scout's eyes, in the way he carried himself. Sam was right. Bumblebee's grief would have been overwhelming, and though he tried to hide it, Optimus knew better than anyone how deeply the young warrior felt.
With quiet steps, Optimus turned and began to make his way across the deck. He found Bumblebee standing near one of the massive cranes, his back to the water. The scout's shoulders were stiff, his arms crossed tightly against his chest as if to contain emotions too raw to share. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, but his posture betrayed him. He wasn't just looking. He was bracing himself, holding himself together with sheer force of will.
"Bumblebee, " Optimus called gently, his deep voice breaking the silence.
The yellow Autobot turned quickly, his optics brightening with recognition and relief. But almost instantly, Bumblebee shifted his stance, adopting a facade of calm professionalism. He saluted sharply, his movements precise and deliberate. His radio flickered to life with a cheerful tune, something upbeat and casual, as if to say, "I'm fine. Everything's fine."
Optimus tilted his head slightly, observing the scout's attempts to mask his emotions. "At ease, " he said softly, stepping closer. "It's just us."
Bumblebee hesitated, the static of his radio cutting out briefly as if he were searching for the right response. Finally, he settled on a line from an old war film:
::Good to have you back, sir...we missed you out there.::
Optimus's spark ached at the vulnerability hidden in those words. He moved closer, lowering himself slightly to meet Bumblebee at eye level. "You do not have to hide your feelings from me, Bumblebee, " he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I know this has been difficult for you. I am sorry for your grief."
The scout's frame shuddered at those words, his composure faltering. His optics dimmed as he looked away, his fingers flexing nervously. The silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile. Then, cautiously, Optimus reached out, resting a hand on Bumblebee's shoulder.
That simple touch broke the dam.
Bumblebee's resolve shattered as he emitted a static-filled cry, his hands trembling as he gripped Optimus's forearm. His whole body seemed to collapse inward, and then, without hesitation, he stepped forward and clung to Optimus, his servos gripping the Prime's aching plating with the desperation of someone who had just found what they thought they'd lost forever.
The sound that escaped Bumblebee was a mix of static and fractured radio clips, incoherent and raw. He buried his face against Optimus's chest, his frame shaking with the force of his sobs. For a moment, the hardened young warrior—the scout who had faced countless battles and endured unimaginable pain, was gone. In his place was a young soldier, overwhelmed and vulnerable, mourning the loss he had thought was permanent.
Optimus's spark ached as he wrapped his arms around Bumblebee, holding him close. The scout's grief was palpable, and it pierced through the Prime's own barriers. "I am here, Bumblebee, " he said softly, his voice steady even as emotion threatened to overtake him. "I am here."
The weight of Bumblebee's grief pressed against him, but Optimus bore it willingly, grateful beyond words to be able to comfort him. He had seen Bumblebee grow from an eager young scout into a capable warrior, but in moments like this, Optimus was reminded that no matter how skilled or strong Bumblebee had become, he was still young. Still learning. Still in need of guidance and reassurance.
::I thought we...lost you,:: Bumblebee's radio finally managed, the words fragmented but clear enough to cut through the air. His grip on Optimus tightened, his frame trembling.
"I know, " Optimus murmured, his hand moving gently across Bumblebee's back. "I am so sorry for the pain I caused you. I did not want to leave you."
Bumblebee shook his head, his radio stuttering with static. ::Not your fault...Never...your fault.::
The Prime's optics softened, and he tightened his embrace. "You have carried a great weight, Bumblebee. You saved me. You and Sam both. That is a weight greater than I ever intended for you to bear. But I assure you...I am deeply honored to be here, to watch over you. You are... so very dear to me."
Bumblebee didn't respond with words, but the way he clung to Optimus said everything. Slowly, his tremors subsided, the storm of emotion giving way to a tentative calm. Optimus remained still, letting the younger Autobot take the time he needed. This was a moment they both needed, a moment to grieve, to heal, and to reaffirm the bond that had carried them through countless battles.
When Bumblebee finally stepped back, his optics were bright, his frame still trembling slightly but more composed. His radio crackled with a soft, heartfelt phrase:
::Thank you.::
Optimus inclined his head, a rare, gentle smile gracing his face. "Always, my friend. Always."
Together, they stood on the deck, the ocean stretching out before them, carrying their shared grief and relief into the horizon. Optimus knew the journey ahead would not be easy, but for now, he was grateful for the moments like these, for the privilege of being here, alive, to guide and protect the ones he loved.
I realized I never have Optimus comforting Bumblebee.