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Bumblebee rested on Blitzwing's warm chassis. His arms reached up to gently rub servos against the outer casing of the larger mech's neck. It earned him a small, but ever-valued smile from Blitzwing as he leaned into the touch. He sighed softly, his frame unwinding from underneath Bumblebee, both sinking further into the snowy ground.
Swirling in his cloudy exvent, snowflakes glinted red and blue in the light of their optics. They fluttered through the air, until lightly settling on armor and glass, where they melted and were no longer visible. Bee traced his digits in small circles on the warm plating, smiling as Blitzwing reached up to wrap his arms around Bumblebee's frame. They were warm and firm, holding Bee in place, shielding him from the cold of the elements. He liked it.
"Honestly Blitzy, I dunno why we can't just do this forever." He chirped, and Blitzwing only sighed and shuttered his optics, dimming the red glow in the snowflakes. He hummed something in a low, melodic tone. Bee let his servos crawl a little higher, starting to thumb the line where plating stopped, and wires would be exposed, were they not hidden under Blitzwing's helm most of the time. Bee didn't touch those, he knew they were incredibly sensitive and hooked up to Blitzwing's three different faceplates. As much as Blitzwing insisted Bumblebee couldn't hurt him, he still hesitated. He briefly wondered what Blitzwing thought of that.
He wondered a lot about what Blitzwing was thinking.
"But no, seriously." Bee wriggled out from under Blitzwing's massive servos and dragged himself further up on the latter's frame, past the cockpit. He folded his arms and settled himself right on Blitzwing, giving him a much better view of his face. He always found Blitzwing's monocle a little funny. From afar, it looked like one, uniform circle of glowing red, but up close, he could see inside the optic. There were little lenses within it that would move in and out, and they had little frames that held those little lenses in place. The frames would spin and click as they focused on whatever had caught Blitzwing's attention, be it Bee, a passing snowflake, the like. It was kind of cool.
"I mean, c'mon! You could run away, you have that signal dampener, and our base is shielded too! I'm pretty sure my friends would accept you, 'cause Prowl worked with a 'con once and no one else cares. Okay, not a con, but like, not that far off! I'd get to see you more often than..." he unhooked one of his arms and flailed it around, "...this." He knew it wasn't worth it, trying to convince Blitzwing to defect from the Decepticons and their terrifying leader, but he didn't really get why that was so. He had it explained, over and over, until Blitzwing yelled at him to shut up. He just didn't get it.
The older mech simply gazed at him, a frown forming over his features, highlighted in the crimson glow of his optics. His face softened into a subtle look of pity Bumblebee decidedly didn't like.
"You know as well I do that what we want isn't possible, Hummelchen." Blitzwing murmured, the massive armored shoulders tensing up slightly. Bumblebee didn't like that much either. He sighed and dropped his helm, resting it on the mech's chest, stretching his arm wide to touch Blitzwing's. Although it was too dark to see it properly, up here on this lonesome cliff-side, he could feel a slight dent in that arm, a crack where self-repair had sealed it back together, but had left it thinner, weaker than the original, leaving a little scar that probably ran deep. Blitzwing's entire frame was like this, Bee had noticed, covered in little cracks, welds, some too strange for him to start to understand how or why they happened. Bee hated it. He hated the pit that lay before him, too deep for his young mind to make sense of or do anything about.
"Yeah, but I can still be upset about it. I don't like- I hate that we have to fight, or that neither side can't just- get along! It doesn't make sense. I just want to be here with you, is that too hard to ask?" He muttered, pulling away from the scar and looking back at Blitzwing. He seemed to be deep in thought, the monocle slowly spinning in and out, giving a tiny whir that Bee's audials strained to catch. Snowflakes glinted across Blitzwing's vision, red like embers for the briefest moment. He still had that pitying look towards Bee, who wished he could wipe it off.
"I enjoy every moment together as well, Bee. But it's dangero-"
"Dangerous. I know, I know! Man, can you just... ugh, forget about it for a bit? Relax maybe? I like that. I'd really like that." Bee fumbled his words as they spilled from his vox, but Blitzwing obliged with a little smile, letting his shoulders fall back and his helm rested against the winter snowfall. Bumblebee crawled further up on his chassis, wrapping his servos behind Blitzwing's helm and bringing them together. His lipplates met Blitzwing's, only slightly cold as he pressed into them, closing his optics. It was easier to let his frustrations, worries, everything slip away with Blitzwing's mouth in his own. He could pretend for a bit longer.
He was never sure how long he'd held his kisses, but he pulled back first, rolling to the side and staring up at the night sky, keeping his arms still wrapped around Blitzwing's helm. There were no stars in the almost-black of a snowstormed sky, but his optics illuminated snowflakes as they fell, and they almost looked like stars. Blitzwing made a pleasant sound and his faceplates switched with a whirr-and-click, and he was suddenly humming quietly, with no intelligible words and probably to no one in particular. Bumblebee didn't bother asking him why, he could have his fun too.
He listened to Blitzwing's slightly out of tune, incoherent humming flow with the sounds of the outside world. The wind whistled gently around the two intertwined's plates, rustling the trees, pine needles rubbing up against each other in hushed sounds. He could hear the deep hoot of a lone owl, echoing somewhere through the forest. Something perked his audials, a noise he didn't recognize. It was too harsh to be from an animal, a noise that bled the bliss from his frame like an open wound. What replaced it was a lingering, sinking cold that creep into his tanks.
He lifted his helm, trying not to disturb Blitzwing, tracing his optics over the shoulder amour to scan for the source of the noise. He didn't see anything, it was too cloudy, too foggy to make anything out clearly. But as he strained his audials, he could pick it out more clearly. It was the sound of a helicopter, it's long arms whipping through the air as it flew along. He wanted to feel at ease knowing it was probably military or a news copter, maybe some rich hobbyist, and go back to snuggling, but that crawling cold remained, slowly forming into frost. It was way too cloudy and snowy for a news copter, and didn't really make sense for the military to be all the way out here, far from the city and the people it should be protecting. He darted his optics around, and they snagged on a snowflake in the distance, one that didn't dance in the air, and was, decidedly, not a snowflake.
He kept straining his optics, but the thrumming of the blades was getting louder, not quieter. The feeling started to sting, and with it, a flash of panic. He could start to make out the outline of the advancing aircraft. His processor scrambled to connect the dots, trying to make the encroaching frost in his tanks go away.
"Mmm? Is something wrong?" Blitzwing asked, his face must've flipped back before Bee could notice, shifting around Bumblebee's arm. He glanced back down at Blitzwing, catching the crimson glow of the mech's optics. He didn't say anything, only motioning with his helm towards the aircraft. His gaze darted back to it, the sinking feeling only growing, the frost hardening, freezing his internals together. Its shape was familiar, one body, with two, bent arms sticking out from either side. A familiar helicopter, one that he would have given anything to have it be anything, anyone else.
Blitzwing sat up, abruptly, causing Bumblebee to slip and fall into his lap with a clang, but he couldn't tear his optics from the helicopter, his spark starting to race and pulse under his thin plating. But as the whirring, whipping of the blades filled his audials, louder and louder, his tanks turned to solid ice and his processor finally snapped itself free from delusion.
Megatron.
Bumblebee whipped around to face Blitzwing, but Blitzwing was faster, grabbing Bee by the waist and shooting to his pedes. Dread surged forth like a tidal wave, drenching Bee's frame as he panicked. He knew, or, had the helpings of an idea, of what Blitzwing was going to do, but that didn't stop him from writhing against the other's solid grip.
"Let me go! No! NO! Don't do this Blitzwing! Let me help!"
He could barely register the change under the roar of blades, but he did hear Blitzwing's bellowing, desperate command, "No! Get out of here, you idiotic insect! Get lost and don't come back!"
Bumblebee howled in frightened fury, trying to grip onto Blitzwing's scarred servos, but it was of little use as he was slung from his hold, up and over the edge of the cliff, sending him sinking, as fast as his tanks were.
He cried meaninglessly as his vision and gyroscopes whipped up and over, spinning around and under again.The air shrieked past his frame and through his audials.
The cold water, not quite ice yet, slammed into his back, unforgiving as it sent a wave of minor errors and sharp chills through his struts. He barely let himself sink before tearing himself out of the water, roaring of helicopter blades filling his helm. Slinging droplets from his vision, it took only seconds to locate the top of the cliff where he'd been thrown from, and the bright searchlight of Megatron's illuminating it.
His metal frame betrayed him, dragging himself back under, and Bumblebee hurled himself for the shore, kicking and flailing, running when his pedes scrapped against the rocks of the lake floor. He started loudly cursing himself, Blitzwing, and Megatron. He hated it, hated it and loathed it through every circuit of his frame.
Every second was too long. Water dragged through his frame like tar, pressing against his thin plating. The rocks were unsteady and misshapen. Bee's pedes slipped as he tried to kick and tear through the freezing cold water. Errors alighted like red fire in the deep blue black of the abyss, warning of the cold water seeping through his insides, curling around his spark and threatening to snuff out the pounding of his engine. He ignored it all, none of it mattered, not when Megatron was still out there. Not when Blitzwing was still out there. Not when Bee could still do something.
He finally broke to the shore, his helm running five frantic laps when he took one step. He ran, ran back up the slope, pounding through small bushes and shoving off trees with as much force as he could muster. The snow slipped under his wet, icy treads, threatening to topple him and delay vital time. He was going to bury his servos in Megatron's helm when he got up there, dig his stingers into wires and fry the mech cold. He didn't care how he'd do it, he just had to get there.
His pede slipped on a rock and he cursed as he stumbled and hit his servos. A screech of a cannon discharge tore through the air, rolling through Bee's frame with the shudder of an explosion. Everything fell silent afterwards, still as death itself.
No.
No No No.
His processor spun, strained in his helm. That wasn't what he thought it was, whatever was happening up there wasn't happening, he could stop it still. He still had time, he was the fastest bot there was! He wasn't late! He couldn't be.
He screamed until his vox cracked, hoping that maybe, he could get any sort of reply, confirmation against his coiling fears. He spun his wheels and shoved the ground back, racing up the slope, beating his way through the dead, leafless undergrowth into the small clearing where he'd been moments prior.
Megatron's frame stood, slanted away from Bee, a misshapen void against the dull grey of the clouds, heaving with heavy inventing. Thin lines of pink energon ran down his form, one from a massive gash on his leg, but most of it not his own. He was clutching something in his servo, the end thin and dark, but long, like a spear, until it met a mangled, tattered base. That base glowing a sickly magenta, energon was seeping from the torn tubes and burst lines in it, blinking lights fading as the life drained from the wiring. The glow from the destroyed end illuminated a large, dark lump on the ground, too small to be a mech, but beyond that Bee didn't want to identify it. Megatron's fusion cannon still glowed with a faint purple light, and smoke billowed from its end. His helm was fixed forwards and down, his optics hidden, but likely focused on a spot over the cliff.
Blitzwing was nowhere to be seen.
Bee couldn't feel anything, couldn't move anything, he could only watch Megatron calmly stare over the edge of the cliff, his processor stalling over the feed before him. The warlord let Blitzwing's cannon slip from his digits, falling with an audial-splitting clang that shocked Bee from his paralysis. A familiar denial alighted his frame, one that he had enjoyed on his and Blitzwing's short, cherished nights together. It set his struts off, and he surged forwards, stumbling over cracked plating and wires, falling to his servos, pinning himself to the edge of the cliff and staring over at the abyss below.
"BLITZWING!" His vox tore from him, staring over for any sign, any that Blitzwing, the mech he'd spent so many stupid nights arguing and talking and laying around and Primus-knows-what, was still alive, down there somewhere, dragging himself from the water, injured maybe, but still alive. Injured was fine. He could live with that. Not the alternative. Just not that.
The only thing that stared back was a dim glow as energon bubbled to the surface of the rippling waves. His spark pounded in his chest and his tanks plummeted.
Megatron's grip on his shoulder was sudden, cruel, smashing right through his plating and popping the tire. He heard the disgusting, pathetic crunch of the armor giving way under the iron grip, more than he felt the pain or paid mind to the sudden errors that hit his HUD. It felt as if his spark suddenly stopped, sinking cold in his frame. A tightness constricted at his chest, an ache crawled through his processor and made everything feel alight with a wriggling haze. He could feel Megatron's digits dig into the strut of the arm, a strut that had never been exposed to the open, had almost always sat comfortable inside his chassis, under his protoform.
He hadn't understood why Blitzwing refused to defect. Megatron's digits tugged back, pressing against that thin, naked strut, and dragged him up, away from the edge, away from the glowing trails of mech lifeblood, to standing. He understood now. The grip pulled him up further still, off the ground, to the eye level of Megatron. He and Blitzwing had been escaping all this time, as much as he wanted it to be more than that. Megatron's crimson crescent optics stared into Bee, a raging inferno he'd only graced the tip of burning from within the warlord's helm. He wanted to live an existence where he didn't have to worry about the things he couldn't control, where he could do anything and everything he wanted.
Megatron cocked his helm at Bee, raising his cannon with a charge that barely registered in Bee's audials.
But he didn't. He lived in a world where the height of his frame and the charge of his stingers spoke more than his voice ever could.
The tip of the cannon barrel just tapped his chest, just where he was sure his spark still lay, beating inside.
He hated it.