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"Primus, Bee, what medic did this to you?"
Ratchet had finally gotten Bumblebee to get checked out. It seemed like the scout had been avoiding his check up; Ratchet basically had to drag Bumblebee to the med bay. But, unknown to the scout at the time, Ratchet wanted to do more than a simple check up on Bumblebee.
There were panels there were poorly welded onto the scout's body; a couple on his sides and one across his chest. While they were painted yellow, it was a shade darker than the rest of Bumblebee's body. If Ratchet listened close enough, he could hear the panels creaking against Bumblebee's body. At first glance, no one wouldn't have noticed that there were different shades of yellows on the scout's body.
Ratchet had also noted that he had never seen Bumblebee transform, he had always hopped on Optimus Prime for whenever they needed to transform. It might've been the panels, or something else entirely.
Bumblebee never answered his question, just sitting nervously, hoping that Ratchet wouldn't open the panels that he had put on himself decacycles ago. Panels that he had put on to make himself more comfortable. At least mentally.
Physically, however, they made transforming impossible at this point. If he did too much physical activity, his chest would hurt, and the points where he had welded on the panels to his side would feel like they were burning. At some points, he wanted to tear everything off his body, but that would expose his body underneath, so he pushed through.
Ratchet did a quick scan, Bumblebee's spark spinning faster in fear. He trusted Ratchet, he really did, it's just... he spent so long trying to hide his body, he didn't just want to immediately expose himself.
Ratchet looked at the console when the scan complete, giving him a look at Bumblebee's general body image. He looked over at the scout, then back at the console. Oh, Primus.
Bumblebee looked over at the console, seeing the outline of his body, showing his hips that he had tried to hide with his panels.
Ratchet padded over to his cart, and grabbed some medical tools, before heading to Bumblebee. His vents tightened up, making it harder to breathe.
"Gonna need you to hold still, okay, kid?"
Bumblebee, without thinking, threw his arm across chest panel, and moved back.
"What-what are you going to do??"
"Relax, kid, if whoever did this did a shitty job with welding panels to you, I want to know what they covered up, and if they treated it."
Bumblebee knew he wasn't a medic, and whatever he had done under the panel was bad, but if Ratchet had seen whatever the console had revealed about him, well, he didn't want to be more exposed than he already was.
No one knew.
No one HAD to know.
No one SHOULD know.
Bumblebee backed up more, leaving Ratchet confused.
"Bee, if it's painful, why won't you let me check it out?"
Bumblebee was hesitant for a moment, thinking of a way to talk to Ratchet without exposing himself.
He spoke quietly. "I did this."
Ratchet's optics widened. "You did this?"
Bumblebee nodded.
"Why didn't you go to a medic?"
Primus, these questions were hard to answer. Maybe he should tell Ratchet. Ask him to not tell anyone. Patient confidentiality and what not. Even if Ratchet hated him for it, refused to see him for who he was, at least no one would know. Ratchet was a medic, after all. Being a medic came first than anything. Ratchet proved that in the past.
Ratchet put down his tools, and moved closer to the scout.
"I... didn't like...my body. It... didn't...it wasn't me."
Ratchet glanced over at the console, looking at it carefully. His optics widened as he realized.
Bumblebee's body figure on the console more closely resembled a female Cybertronian's body.
But looking at Bumblebee, his body was more boxy, closer to a male Cybertronian's body, though it was maybe too boxy.
Realizing that Bumblebee had a panel across his chest, Ratchet feared the worst.
"Bumblebee. . did you go to ANY medic for this?"
Bumblebee slowly shook his head, which somewhat confirmed Ratchet's fears.
"Bumblebee... I need to look under there if you never went to a medic."
Bumblebee looked at the medic, fear in his optics. Ratchet put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.
"I won't tell anyone. I'm concerned that it'll turn into something more painful."
Bumblebee mentally debated with himself, before looking at the door. Someone could walk in while Ratchet was removing the panels.
Ratchet picked up on his fears. "I can lock the doors if that'll make you feel better."
Bumblebee fell silent again.
He nodded slowly. Ratchet padded over to the door and locked it. He went back over, and grabbed his tools.
"Ready?"
Bumblebee nodded, taking a deep invent.
Ratchet worked carefully to remove the panel, which was actually somewhat harder than expected, likely because it was done by Bumblebee and not an actual medic.
Eventually, the panel fell, and exposed a myriad of panels, scars peeking out. Ratchet's optics widened as he suppressed a gasp.
Bumblebee seemed to have done his 'DIY surgery' in chunks, cutting some, putting a panel on it, cutting some more before finalizing it with the big panel.
"Can I remove these panels, too?"
Ratchet wanted to make sure that Bumblebee was okay with going farther than anticipated.
Bumblebee thought. Well, they were this far, anyways.
He nodded again, and Ratchet grabbed a smaller tool before going in again.
Underneath was worse. It was covered in scars, some going overtop of each other. It seemed to be painful during and after the surgery.
"How did you not die?"
"Just... luck I guess?"
Ratchet debated on what to do. The scars had healed a long time ago, and Bumblebee would likely have to deal with pain for the rest of his life.
He got up from his spot and went to grab more supplies.
He returned with more panels, better quality than the ones Bumblebee had on his body.
"I can replace the panels more safely, and give you meds to make it less painful."
Bumblebee looked up at him, optics sparkling. He hadn't gone to a medic for this as it was during the war, and any medics were more concerned on keeping everyone alive rather than making Bumblebee comfortable in his own body.
Plus, not many mechs had particularly liked him when he said who he was when they saw his body, so he learned to just cover with a cloak and avoid people, at least until his surgery.
Now, Ratchet was offering to fix up his panels and his body, in a way that wouldn't be painful for him. Not as painful, anyways.
"Would I be able to transform again?"
"Of course kid."
He thought for a moment.
"Primus, probably the early days of the war."
Ratchet only nodded, and got to work.
****
It had taken quite a while to properly secure the panels to Bumblebee's body, making sure he could transform comfortably, and be happy in his body again.
Ratchet had found a can of yellow paint; not exactly his colour, though it would be hard to find his exact colour. But it was close enough, and hid the obvious panels.
Ratchet had a mirror up, and when Bumblebee looked at the reflection, all he saw was himself. Not some bot trying to cover up with a cloak, not a bot who desperately tried to make his body work, but himself, Bumblebee.
Bumblebee immediately transformed, the feeling of it completely forgotten over the cycles. He moved around for a bit, making sure that he knew how to drive, before transforming back to his root mode.
The scout turned to Ratchet, gave him a beaming smile, and hugged him. Ratchet returned the hug immediately, smiling softly.
"Thank you, Ratchet," Bumblebee whispered to him.
"No problem, kid."