So the reviews I got (thank you very much for reviewing by the way) informed me that the person I called Sidesweep the whole last chapter is actually called Sideswipe. I don't know where I got Sidesweep from and I don't know how I managed to completely convince myself that his name was Sidesweep, but it happened. I hope I didn't confuse anyone too badly.

And I do plan to go into the cultural and social aspects of the Autobots (which will be completely made up because I don't actually know anything about the cultural and social aspects of the Autobots). That kind of stuff is my favorite.

And I know that at the beginning of the chapter I said that Sam was comfortable with the Bots then at the end he was afraid of them. I'm hoping to clear that up soon, hopefully in this chapter. Just hang in there please.

Anything else you guys want clarifying on just ask.

Sam slept well for the first half of the night, which he was thankful for. He hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in a long time, for almost as long as he could remember; since long before Egypt even. His nightmares always woke him up, but most times he was able to sleep at least partially through the night. Almost always he couldn't remember what his nightmares were about, forgetting them as soon as he woke up, with nothing but a cold feeling deep in his chest and fear rushing through his veins. But the dreams he could remember gave him a pretty good idea of what the rest were about. And he was glad that he didn't retain the memories.

That night he was running. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that if he stopped he would die. He couldn't breathe, every muscle in his body was sore, he felt like he was going to throw up. He couldn't keep going, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. He was in a long hallway that branched and twisted in different directions. He was encased in strong metal that seemed to buzz with energy. Doors quickly past him on either side as he ran, but he knew he couldn't enter any of them.

He came to the end of the hallway, and was confronted with a huge glass window. He was on some sort of observation deck, and the window gave him a clear view of the room below. He knew he didn't want to look but he did anyway. Bumblebee was there, hanging in the middle of the room. He looked so weak and broken that Sam wanted to throw up. He was surrounded by large shadowy figures; Sam couldn't quite make out a face, but there was a feeling that they were familiar. As he watched Bee wailed in pain, a horrible, gut wrenching wail. And somehow Sam knew that this was his fault. He had caused Bee's pain just as he had caused his pain when Sector Seven had kidnapped him.

Sam cried out and beat on the glass as Bee wailed again. He didn't say anything; he wasn't sure what he would say because no words would make this better. There was nothing Sam could do to help, though he wanted to help more than anything in the world. He seemed to choke when Bee cried out in agony again, and he turned away, unable to bear watching any longer.

He woke up gasping for air, unable to draw any into his lungs. He was shaking and sweating and crying with Bumblebee's cries echoing in his head. He threw his covers off, jumped out of bed, and stood motionless, unable to stay there any longer but having nowhere else to go.

The clock read 8:23; much earlier than he would have liked to be up but not awkwardly early. After a moment's hesitation he decided that he would go to the bathroom that he shared with the soldiers that were housed in the same building, take a shower to try to wash away the nightmare, and go get some breakfast.

He would have to avoid Bee, he realized unhappily with a little guilt. His early awakening would arise suspicion in the Bot and he didn't much feel like explaining to Bee. He didn't want to talk about his dream at all; he just wanted to forget about it. And he knew how worried Bee was over his nightmares. They seemed to disturb him more than they did Sam. Bee was under the impression that they had gone away, and Sam was perfectly fine letting him believe that.

The mess hall wasn't very crowded, but it was full of people who were sitting in tight packs at small tables cluttered around the room enjoying the eggs, bacon, and protein bars that were being offered for breakfast. One look at the chunky yellow eggs, a color not unlike Bee's, had his stomach turning with thoughts of his nightmare, so he settled for loading his plate with as much bacon as could fit and setting a few protein bars on the side.

He set his sights on a small, empty table in the back of the room and started toward it, but as he passed a group of loud laughing soldiers he heard someone calling out to him.

"Hey, kid," a strong, loud voice called after him. Even though the greeting wasn't very specific, he couldn't think of anyone else someone would address in such a manner. He turned around and saw a familiar dark face smiling up at him.

"Hey Epps," Sam called back cheerfully, happy to see a familiar face in the sea of unnamed soldiers.

Epps kicked a chair out from under the table, a clear invitation to join them. Sam hesitated slightly, shooting a cautious glance at the big men seated around the table. Their faces weren't exactly welcoming, but they weren't glowering either. Sam set his tray down on the table cautiously and took a seat. Once he saw that none of the other men seemed to mind his intrusion he started eating his meal with a passion.

"Hey, guys, this is Sam," Epps announced loudly to the rest of the table. "He's the kid that brought Optimus back to life. The one the Bots are always talking about."

"They're not always talking about me," Sam said as soon as he swallowed his large mouthful of food. Of course he didn't know if it was true or not, he hadn't been at base in awhile, and the Bots wouldn't talk about him if he was present. But he wasn't entirely sure what kind of image this put into the other's mind, and he definitely wanted to clarify it.

"Yeah they do, kid," the soldier at the end of the table, whose tag read Ruce, said. Sam scowled slightly at discovering that the name was spreading. Hadn't he already proved that he wasn't a kid? "All the time," the soldier continued. "They really like you."

"Yeah, well, I was the first human they met," Sam said defensively, though he wasn't sure why he felt the need to defend himself against the idea that the Bots like him.

"I'm not sure what you did to get them to like you so much," said a soldier to his right named Bryan. "But I don't think I'd have the guts to do it. Those guys creep me out."

Sam almost glared at him. It wasn't the man, himself that bothered Sam. He understood how the Bots could scare people. They were giant, super advanced alien robots who had been perfectly molded into fighting machines after uncountable years of civil war. But the more time Sam spent around the Bots and around people who were associated with the Bots, the more he saw of the intolerance and suspicion. It made Sam furious that the Autobots continued to be treated so unfairly after they had proven many times over that they were trustworthy allies of the human race.

"You'll have to excuse Bryan," Epps said, clearly sensing the tension. "He's new. The Bots always scare the new ones. At least until they get used to seeing them around, and trust the fact that they won't get stepped on."

Sam smiled as Epps' successful attempt to lighten the mood.

"Well he'll have to get used to them fast. More are coming any time now" an unrealistically large man to Sam's right said in a deep voice to many hums and grunts of agreement.

"Do any of you know how many are coming?" Sam cut in eagerly, desperate to hear anything more about the new arrivals.

"I think Will said there'd be seven, but I don't know if I heard right. They aren't saying much about any of it," Epps answered looking at him curiously. "I'm surprised you don't know more. I thought they tell you everything."

"Far from it," Sam replied glumly. "They don't seem to trust me with any of the import information."

"They trust you more than they trust any of us. At least they consider telling you things," a tall skinny man with creamy skin, whose last name was Williams, said. "It's not like I think they're bad or anything. But trust kinda' works both ways, you know. They only tell us what we need to hear, even Lennox."

"That's because Will's smart enough not to go poking them about looking for information," Epps said back with a disapproving scowl.

"So I'm curious, sue me. I don't see how you're not, living with a race of alien robots," he responded with a scowl.

"It's their culture," Sam said absently, more focused on making a tower with his protein bars than what he was saying. "They don't really share information. I guess when you live for hundreds of thousands of years you have time to take it slow."

"See," Williams cried triumphantly. "You know stuff. Stuff about them."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, a little worried that he had given something away that the Autobots hadn't wanted people to know. But he couldn't see any harm in what he had said and decided to change the subject before he said something else he would regret. "What about the new ones who got here a month ago. Aqua and Wildflash. What do you guys know about them?"

"Aw, man. She let you call her Aqua. She don't let no one call her Aqua. She must like you."

"She can't like me. I haven't even met her. Well once, for like two seconds."

"Whatever man," Epps said, seeming amused. "I don't know much. Just that she's very by the book and all formal with everyone. If I ever see her lay down and relax, I might just have a heart attack. And Wildflash is just the opposite, always laying back and doing things his way, if he gets to them at all. They hate each other. Apparently they were on the same ship for, like, a really long time. I find it hard to believe they didn't kill each other years ago."

Sam was about to respond but caught the sight of two bright blue optics framed in a yellow face staring at him through the doorway, waving his large hand to get his attention. Deciding he should probably go, he started pilling his trash back onto his tray.

"I should probably go before Bumblebee tries to get through the doors again. Last time he got stuck and they had to take out the whole wall. He's too fat to make it," he teased, knowing Bee could hear him.

He heard Bee whirl in an angry tone, but the smile in the Bot's eyes told Sam that he knew Sam was joking. Guessing what Bee was trying to say he said, "yeah, yeah, sure you're not," and walked away to dump out his trash, missing all the soldiers, minus Epps, give him an incredulous look.

"What's up big guy?" Sam asked with a forced, but respectably believable smile. Seeing Bee brought back the memories of last night, and no matter how much resolve he had to put it behind him, it still hurt to think about.

"Just wanted… to see… how you were doing… New guys… ahead of schedule… be here… at… 12 o'clock," Bee projected through his speakers. Sam marveled momentarily at how Bee was able to not only make sentences that were understandable, but also that sounded smooth and cohesive using different clips from different sources. Sam's awe was soon replaced by dread though. "You… okay?... You seem… down."

He should have known that Bee would be able to tell that something was off with him. Sometimes it frustrated Sam how Bee was able to see through his mask. But it made him wonder how much he really wanted to keep it from Bee. When he was really determined to hide something, he succeeded. Or maybe he just thought he did while Bee was respecting Sam's intense wish for privacy. Either way, there was no turning back now.

Bee watched anxiously as Sam sighed and started to walk away. He didn't seem to have a destination in mind. Bee knew how Sam hated to be still when he was really upset and it made him worry even more. Bee hesitantly moved to follow, trying to decipher if Sam wanted his company or not. Seeing that Sam didn't seem opposed to he quickly made to catch up to the boy.

"Is it… about… last night… with boss?... He doesn't… blame you… understands."

"He shouldn't have to understand," Sam exploded, distracting himself, while Bumblebee whined sadly. He didn't quite understand what Sam was feeling because he had never been put into a situation where he had the opportunity to feel the same, but he respected it and he didn't blame Sam; none of them did. But it appeared as though Sam did.

"I know you guys would never hurt me. I know that. There's no doubt in my mind. I trust you guys with my life, Bee. I have." They had stopped walking now. It seemed like Sam was content just to pace, unable to really focus on where he was going and what he was doing. So Bee watched him stomp back and forth torn between stopping Sam to comfort him and wanting to hear what he was going to say.

"But… I don't know what it is. Maybe… it's almost like there are two of you. There's the friendly you that I love and then there's the warrior you. And that you scares me." Hearing that he scared Sam, in any way, no matter how unavoidable or logical, made his spark wrench. It was a deep pain, literally felt. His hands balled into fists and he looked away sadly.

"But there aren't two of you, there's only one and I don't know how to put those together. It's like trying to put a puzzle together and you have two pieces at opposite ends and nothing in the middle to connect them. Because I don't know you. Not really. I know the big parts, I know what you're like, I know the outline, but I don't really know you; any of you."

Bee grew sad. Sam, as a human, had different emotional needs that needed to be met in their friendship than Bumblebee, as an Autobot, did. Sam, for the most part, was able to provide Bee with what he needed, a constant friend that Bee trusted implicitly and could go to whenever needed. It was an idea that meant far greater to Autobots than it did to humans. But it seemed Bee wasn't able to provide Sam the same comfort.

"Maybe that's not even it. I don't know. But it's like I can't help it. Sometimes it's just… I can't help it. And I hate that, because I know that it hurts you guys. And you and Optimus just keep trying and I just keep…"

"It's… okay… Sam," Bee said gently, trying to sooth the frantic boy. Sam kept looking at him expectantly, so obviously he was supposed to say something, but he didn't know what it was that he wanted to hear. Bee wanted to calm the boy and comfort him. He wanted to be able to tell Sam that none of it mattered and that everything would be alright soon, but he wasn't sure that was true.

"What… do you want… me to… say?"

"What do you want to say?" Sam asked incredulously. "That's how people get to know each other Bee. By talking, and not just saying what the other person wants to hear." He hesitated slightly. "Do you not want me to know more about you," he said slowly as he looked away. He crossed his arms over his chest, a sign of his discomfort, as watched the waves stirring the sand as they hit the beach while he waited for the answer he wasn't sure he wanted.

Bumblebee reached down, slowly so Sam would have time to adjust, and slowly brushed his finger down Sam's back. "Sam… you are… my best friend… you mean… more… to me… than anyone. I want… to be… close."

Sam smiled, which made the pain in Bee's spark ease, and laid his hand on Bee's much larger metal one. "Yeah, me too."

They continued to walk again. Bee wasn't sure where they were going as he followed after the small human, but he was too distracted to care. What Sam had said was running through his processor, not entirely sure how to interpret it. He seemed to be missing something that would make the words make sense, something no doubt singularly human, but he couldn't figure out what it was.

Bee activated his internal comm. and directed it towards Optimus. But the larger Bot, distracted himself with preparations for the arrival, had put his comm. on low priority. Optimus would never close himself off from the link because he knew it was Bee's only method of communication, but Bee's situation was not an emergency and Optimus was choosing not to speak with him. None the less, Bee knew that Optimus would want to be informed, and Bee sent his request again, a little more strongly.

This time Optimus did answer.

Bumblebee, he questioned, his deep voice echoing around Bee's processor. His voice usually calmed and comforted Bee, as many did, and while he loved being able to communicate through the comm. link, hearing another voice in his head was a little disconcerting.

I have spoken with Sam. He informed me of his feelings toward the Autobots and why he is frightened of us.

Bee could feel Optimus' attention shift from what he had been doing to their conversation as he told Bee to continue.

He said that he trusts us completely, Bee started warmly, happy at the thought that Sam believed so strongly in them. But that he does not know us; that we have not provided sufficient information about ourselves. He says that he cannot help fearing us and he is unsure of the reason, but thinks it might be because there are 'two' of us and he doesn't know how we 'fit together'. I do not understand his words.

Optimus considered for a moment before responding. I will have Ironhide inquire the meaning from Will. Thank you, Bumblebee.

Satisfied, Bee turned his attention back to his walk and to Sam, who had apparently gotten over his bad mood and was talking away, seemingly not noticing that Bee wasn't paying any attention. He wasn't really saying anything of importance, just talking for the sake of talking, voicing anything that crossed through his mind. Most times Bee found this act in humans, and especially Sam, amusing and endearing. Now was no exception.

"Where… are we… going… Sam?" Bee questioned while they took yet another left turn.

"To the courtyard," Sam replied happily. "You said the new Bots won't get here until 12:00. That gives us two hours. Enough time for a wash, I would think."

Bee trilled with excitement and started to play one of his favorite songs, I'm So Excited by Le Tigre, to show Sam his happiness at the prospect and, also, to make the boy smile, which it did.
"I'm so excited,
And I just can't hide it"

The courtyard was a large empty space between hanger buildings with a hard concrete ground and bright lights that, while unnecessary now, were used to make up for the shadows the Autobot sized buildings caused. It was big enough for every Autobot on the base to stand comfortably and move around. While the space was not an intentional creation when planning the design of base, Sam had taken to it instantly and named it the courtyard.

Bee sat still on the ground as he was bid and waited patiently for Sam to collect what he would need. He let Sam be the judge of necessities because, while he was the one being washed, he was unknowledgeable towards what is used in such practices. He could look up proper materials through the internet, but decided that he would rather Sam do it how he wanted. So he knew nothing, save what he learned in his prior experiences with Sam, which had been few.

Sam had only helped him wash twice, and neither had been as extensive as this time. Once was while he was in his alt mode just so he could look presentable. The other was just a relatively quick surface wash. This would be the first time in a very long while, longer than he would ever admit to Ratchet, that he would be able to clean under his armor. During the war, the meaning of such an act is overlooked somewhat, but it was still difficult finding someone with whom you are comfortable with such a process.

It wasn't very long before Sam came trotting back with two buckets of soapy water, brushes, and sponges. Setting his supplies on the ground next to Bee and removing his hoodie to keep it from getting wet, he looked up innocently.

"So… how does this work, exactly? Because I'm small, but I'm not that small," he joked looking pointedly at the small crevices between armor plating.

Bumblebee laid out on the ground and a piece of armor just above his knee pulled away from his body to reveal a layer of built up black muck.

"Jeez, Bee, when was the last time you cleaned under here?" Sam questioned as he started to scrub the muck away. Most of it came away rather easily, but there was a lot of it and it was at an awkward angle. Bee whirled sheepishly in response.

"That can't have been comfortable."

Bee put a hand to his head and whined dramatically while Sam rolled his eyes at him.

When the piece of yellow armor was completely clean Sam stepped back and watched as Bee pulled it back to his body, fitting it snugly against his leg. He vented his engine, a sigh; Sam was guessing a happy one. "That feels… so good," Bee said happily and Sam smiled at him, glad to be able to finally do something that helped Bee, instead of it always being the other way around.

"Last night… was not… what was bothering you… was it?"

Sam sighed but shook his head, seeing no way out.

"Then… what… was it?"

Sam focused on chipping away a piece of dirt that had gotten stuck on Bee's armor with his finger nail to avoid looking at the Bot. "I had another dream," he said quietly, as if that would stop Bee from hearing him. Of course, he knew that wouldn't work, but it made him feel better in the moment.

Bee's head jerked towards Sam in surprise and concern. "When… did they… come back?"

Rubbing the back of neck awkwardly with a soapy hand, Sam responded a little sheepishly. "They… um… never actually went away."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bee quoted, hurt with the distrust that Sam had shown him.

"Well… you weren't really around to tell. And you were so worried about the nightmares… I didn't want you to worry."

"I'm… supposed to worry… I'm your… Guardian."

Sam didn't respond and Bumblebee fell quiet, unsure what to say. He didn't know why Sam was so concerned with Bee when he should be concerned with himself. Sometimes Bee thought that Sam didn't comprehend how severely his dreams were affecting him. They truly scared Bee, having watched the boy thrash in his sleep in fear but unable to help.

"What was it… about?"

Sam looked away, using the excuse of dipping his sponge back into the now dirty water. "I don't want to talk about it."

Bee hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if he should pursue the topic. Deciding against it he fell silent and allowed Sam to go back to focusing on his cleaning. Optimus' comm. link was blocked, and Bee decided that he wouldn't bother him while he was so busy. At least that's how Bee reasoned it, but really he just wanted a chance to try and make sense of it before he shared what he had discovered.

Two hours later they were close to being done. After a couple refills of water, many laughs as Sam accidently brushed over a wire that would make Bee jerk (the first time had caught them both by surprise and Bee had jerked so hard and suddenly that he almost jumped off the ground. Bee was fine, but Sam, who thought that he had pulled out an important wire by accident, almost had a heart attack), and uncountable strange looks from passing humans, they had been able to completely clean Bee's legs, stomach, arms, and back. Bee was practically floating in pleasure and happiness. Sam wasn't sure what it must feel like to have all of that much under your armor (Sam shivered with the mental image of black muck clogged under his skin), but he was pretty sure that it felt good to have it out after such a long time, which Sam could only assume was years, maybe more considering how much muck there had been. Only the chest was left. It seemed almost as if Bee was avoiding that area and it made Sam a little nervous.

Deciding that he was making it up he walked around from bee's now clean back and threw his sponge into one the buckets saying, "okay, just the chest now."

Bee hesitated, more out of habit than worry. Bee truly trusted Sam, but, no matter who the person was, he just couldn't disregard how serious the situation was. He could be bearing his spark, the most personal and vulnerable part of him, unprotected. That was the most meaningful thing any Cybertronian could do. And it pained Bee that Sam would never be able to completely understand just how much this meant to him. But Bee supposed he would have to be content with his misunderstood and unreturned display of ultimate trust and friendship, no matter how much it made his processor wilt and his spark ache.

"No," Bee cut into Sam's uncomfortable rambling which made Bee smile. "Chest… is… good." And slowly he laid back and pushed away his chest plating, revealing his humming spark, covered only by a thin layer of metal.

This time it was Sam who hesitated, his face pale and his eyes wide. "Is… is that your…?"

Bee nodded and Sam swallowed and shuffled forward slowly. Sam lifted his sponge carefully and brushed it over the armor delicately, almost as if he was afraid of breaking Bee. Bee's spark warmed at Sam's illogical and completely unnecessary action, touch by the meaning of it.

"Sam… it's fine… I'm made of tougher stuff that that."

Sam smiled and, though still a little wary, began to scrub the armor which hung over his spark chamber. "You're sure this is fine right… I mean, I don't want to hurt you Bee."

Bee smiled, finding Sam's behavior adorable, though he wasn't sure why. Bee's spark hummed happily and Sam, who could feel its energy radiating off his chest, froze. Concerned, Bee gave him a curious glance. He wasn't unaware of how alien the feeling must be to an organic, but he hadn't given the idea much thought.

Sam quickly finished his scrubbing and hurried to throw his sponge into the bucket. He dried his hand on his pants' leg until he was certain that there was no water left on it, and started to reach forward ever so slowly. Bee propped himself up a little to better view what Sam was doing. Sam hesitated, but seeing that Bee wasn't stopping him, continued to inch his hand toward Bee's chest. Swallowing Sam brushed the tips of his fingers across the warm metal that surrounded Bee's spark.

Bee shifted uncomfortably, trying to get used to the odd feeling. It wasn't bad, per say, just a different texture across his inexperienced spark. His spark had only been touched by someone who wasn't him seven times. Three times had been from the caretaker that had been responsible for him at the child care facility, twice had been for medical attention for severe injuries, once had been from Optimus, and once had been… completely unpleasant. And never once has an organic come close to his spark. No, it wasn't bad, in fact it was just the opposite, having been so long since someone touched his spark affectionately, but it was very strange.

Sam pulled back feeling Bee shift away from his hand. His fingers buzzed from the strange energy that filled Bee's spark and, though Bee had pulled away from him, his heart was light from how much Bee trusted him.

"It's okay… Sam," Bee said quietly and Sam, with one quick glance at Bee's face to make sure it was truly okay, laid his palm on the buzzing metal. The metal was so warm it was almost hurt but it felt good against his hand.

"What's it like," Sam asked quietly. Bee looked at him curiously; the question was too vague for him to understand what Sam meant by his question. "Having a spark… you know, instead of a heart."

"I have… never… had… a heart… but… it is a… very… powerful… center of us…" Bee hesitated slightly before he continued, unsure how much he wanted to tell Sam. "Emotions… come from... spark…"

Bee was about to continue but was cut off when Sam's hand was pulled away and he let out a fearful cry. Bumblebee instantly snapped his armor back over his spark in defense of it, faster than a human could blink, and used his sensors that he had neglected before to tell him that there were many more Autobots standing around him which had, apparently, been there for quite a while.

Sam's heart almost stopped and cold fear clouded his veins as he felt a large metal hand wrap around his middle tightly, tight enough to leave a bruise he was sure, and roughly threw him to the ground. Sam landed on his back hard, feeling like he couldn't breathe. A huge hand caged him in as he coughed and gasped for breath. Big metal fingers pinned him to the ground and cold blue eyes looked down on him.

Please tell me if my chapters are too long.

I know not much has happened yet, but I'm gonna start getting into the stroy next chapter, just hang in there.

Lennox enters the story next chapter, looking forward to it.

Send me a message over any questions or tips you have.

Thanks.