Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

B-127 gasps. He hits the ground but doesn't feel it. His optics locked upward. He cannot move. He hoped he’d see the sky one last time. A sunset sky. It was the first kind he ever saw up there.

Instead he saw smoke. Couldn’t help but think it looked like a blanket. Covering him. He smiled. He wasn’t online long enough to say goodbye.

How did it come to this?

Centuries had passed since the start of it all. How did it start again?

Iacon. The banishment of Megatron.

“I’m going with him-” He said, spontaneously. He tried to transform and roll to Megatron but was stopped.

“What?! No- you’re not. He just beat you half to death!” Elita yanked him back by the arm.

“B?” Optimus called to him, shocked.

“Don’t take it personally! You guys are great- I just want to stay with him ok? I’ll see you around!”

Some more words exchanged and off on his way he went. Following Megatron. He wouldn’t let his friend be alone.

Was that when it started? No. It was later than that. The end of the Quintesson war? Kaon? Gladiator arena?

He can think of two days. Two days that might have been the start.

The first day was… one like any other. He was busy. Conflict between Autobots and Decepticons rising faster than he could keep up with. It wasn’t a war just yet. Every Cybertronian had to make a choice, choose a size. Sure there were neutrals… but those were rare these days.

Bee made it his mission to find those bots and get them to safety. As a scout, he knew his way around any city.

“Your badge…” One of them took a step back, afraid.

Bee cut them off with a smile “Ey- Purple looks great with yellow. And if you’re worried about it, this just means we’ll be left alone on the way. What’s better than a Decepticon to escort you out of a Decepticon city?”

“An Autobot?” One of them answered his rhetorical question, the bot next to him smacking the back of his helm.

Bee tilted his head and frowned, making his best angry face “I thought you guys were neutral?” He backtracks when he sees panic on the bot's face. “Ey- I’m joking. Jeez. Doesn’t matter- you can tell me about it on the way.” He waved it off and transformed “Unless you’d rather stay in this…” He does a few donuts in front of them, taking a look around the decrepit building. “Great establishment.”

They’re still nervous, clearly, not really believing he isn’t a treat. But what can they do other than follow him at this point?

He doesn’t like when people are afraid of him. Well- In a battle? Sure. He can laugh at the fear in his adversary’s optics when they realize he’s won. He can be filled with glee when he proves to yet another bot they shouldn’t have underestimated him.

But to be feared by… civilians? Because he wears his Decepticon brand proudly? He didn’t like that part. They didn’t have anything to fear. Not from him… Even if he instinctively identified the most efficient and painful way to offline each of them the moment their optics met. Maybe they could feel that…

Thank you, Shockwave, Soundwave and Starscream, for teaching him how to be everything except non-threatening.

It didn’t get like this right away. People being afraid of being on the wrong side and all. After the Quints. There was an understanding: If Opti didn’t mess with Megs then Megs wouldn’t mess with Opti. They stayed in their respective cities, Optimus in Iacon and Megatron in Kaon. Things were nice! Probably the best parts of his existence.

Bee would visit on the weekends and he got along with most of the autobots he met- Even got an autobot badge. He could be both! Sneaking out to race against his friends and brother. Get in trouble for the dumbest reason- it was happy times.

It didn’t last.

Optimus Prime reached out to other cities. Doing his duty as a Prime. Leading the people. It was his job to look after every Cybertronian, of course he couldn’t have stayed in Iacon. Meeting with officials and dismantling corruption when he could. He spread the word about the autobots.

Megatron reached out to the people his own way. He published books and poems. Had gatherings to share his views. Made the people think about the system and put forward that it needed to be changed. The age of the Primes needed to cease. No more false prophets. The Decepticon cause grew.

And things kept escalating. Bee stood by Megatron the whole time. His shadow. The public didn’t know much about him. He was a scout. He was sneaky. He was known well on all sides- but only by the top. The important people. They were all confused by his whole deal.

Bee wasn’t into politics. He wasn’t some super serious guy. He wasn’t the strongest or even that smart. He was just… there… He was always in the room. He was Megatron’s friend. Yes, he was very dangerous and his kill count rivaled Shockwave’s against the Quints but… he still was just some guy.

But he was also Optimus Prime’s friend. And Elita-One’s friend. Sparkbrother of Cliffjumper. Covered his Brand when he visited. And that weirded out a lot of people. He was accused of being a spy or a double agent every other week- but no. He wasn’t a spy. Just a friend.

It wasn’t his fault he was just so darn lovable.

People didn’t get why he was in the room but they knew it'd fall apart if he wasn’t.

He led the groups of bots out of the city without any problem. He’d done this hundreds of times- on both sides. It fixed a lot of problems to help them get where they needed to go instead of them just… running off and causing trouble.

Seriously. You never know how much of a headache a rogue Decepticon sympathizer can be until you have to deal with Megatron and Starscream squabbling over how to deal with it.

So many broken doors… and chairs… and walls… buildings… explosions…

So yeah, believe him. Someone needed to do this. For everyone sake…

No one died… yet.

Turns out these guys did want to join the Autobots- no problem. He led them to a small Autobot camp. Stopped a few clicks away, he transformed “This is where we part ways guys. Just introduce yourself and don’t cause trouble, alright?”

“You’re not coming with us? I thought-”

“Thought I was running away too? I get that a lot. But like I said, purple goes well with yellow.” He smiled. That always got him weird looks.

Was it that weird for a Decepticon to lend a helping servo? Bee really needed to talk to Megs about his campaign- clearly it sent the wrong image. As long as you didn’t stand in their way, you had nothing to fear.

‘Don’t stand in Megatron’s way’ yeah that has a nice right to it. Should put it on a poster. Much better than ‘all that counts is the strength of one bot over another’.

Bee stayed a bit longer, watching the bots drive off to the camp. Making sure they got to their destination without any trouble. He watched as someone drove out of camp towards his direction- maybe one of them changed their minds?

He squinted and looked to see which one and- OH. His spark warms up. He smiled and transformed. He created a dust cloud by doing a few donuts, catching the red car’s attention even if he didn’t need to, before racing off towards a valley of boulders.

He didn’t let the red car catch up to him without a fight- making sudden sharp turns he knew his pursuer had a hard time making when he got too close… He found a giant boulder and they raced around it. After making sure his spark brother was following him, he did one final speed rush to get out of view and transformed, jumping on top of the boulder just in time to make Cliffjumper think he was still ahead.

He giggled as Cliffjumper made a couple rounds trying to catch up to him. He quickly caught on and transformed. Skidding to a halt as he looked at him sitting on top of the boulder. “Bee!” Cliffjumper jumped and climbed to join him, Bee taking his hand and pulling him up the rest of the way.

Cliff used the opportunity to hit his helm with his own, making a loud BONK. “OW-” Bee held his helm and dramatically fell on his back, shutting his optics as he let the pain pass. Frowning when he heard his brother laugh above him “Sore loser.” He mumbled. “I don’t know how I put up with you most days.”

The red bot huffed, sitting down next to him “I should be the one saying that- You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” He put up a finger “First you don’t even call, Second you send us strays- again!” He kept listing slightly inconvenient things, most things that didn’t have anything to do with Bee. Really he was just catching up on his life. Wheeljack blew up his lab, Chromia beat him in a spar, Arcee hid their shared bazooka-

Bee looked at the sky as he listened, his helm didn’t hurt, he just enjoyed the view. The shades of pink and purple familiar. He sat up when it was his time to share. Skywarp got stuck in a vent, Ravage broke a panel and blamed it on Rumble, Thundercracker got his hand on a karaoke machine and Soundwave has the highest score on it- and Shockwave is the second highest, everyone is losing their minds about it.

They kept things lighthearted. Brothers hanging out and talking on top of a boulder in the middle of nowhere. Those moments were few and far between these days…

Maybe that’s why this day is where it started.

“So, how’s Optimus?” Bee asked. He hadn’t talked to Cliffjumper in ages and even longer to any of his Autobots friends… Especially since a lot of them had reservations about him these days… Accused of being a spy every other week, remember?

“Grumpy.” Cliff frowns “Haven’t seen him smile in months. Preparing for war-”

Bee cuts him off “War. War, war, war. That’s all I hear about these days- Can’t they just fight each other and get over it? Or better yet, try to get along? Without involving the rest of us?” He growls, taking out his knife hand and stabs into the boulder, watching it get hot as his blade slowly melts into it.

He feels the side eye more than sees it “Did they ever get along?” Cliff huffs.

“Yes!” He slices forward, leaving a red hot mark on the rock as he retracts his knife hand so he can gesture better. “They used to be Friends! Capital F! Both of them were friends with me. And Elita! You’ve seen them work together!”

Looking at Cliffjumper, their optics met. He put a hand over his chest… “...But that was a really long time ago, uh?” He looked at his Brand and scratched at it. It wouldn’t scratch off… it was burned into his plate after all.

“Yeah, it was.” Cliff put an arm around his shoulders, bringing him into a half hug.

Bee looked at Cliff’s Autobot logo… It was painted. It could be scratched off… “I don’t want to fight my Brother, Cliff.”

The weapons expert nodded “Yeah, I’d feel bad for beating you.”

That snapped him out of his thoughts, shoving himself out of the hug, lowkey offended and sputtering “Wow- wow- YOU beating ME? I totally could beat you. I’d sneak up on you and slash!” He makes the motion with his hand.

“That’s impossible- because I can always tell where you are, smart guy. I’d just turn around and shoot you with my bazooka- you’re so wimpy it’ll vaporize you instantly. Boom.” He smirks.

“Wimpy? That’s too far, Cliff.” He pouted and crossed his arms. He sighed, face softening “But seriously… What are we going to do?” Bee… Bee likes fighting. He liked the action of it. He was good at it and he found it fun… but he didn’t want to fight against his brother… Didn’t want to… kill…

His spark aches thinking about it. Cliff feels it too.

“... I don’t know, Bee…” He brings him back into a hug “We don’t have the power to stop it… but I think we’ll figure something out. Make sure they don’t kill each other like we’ve always done.”

Bee hugged back, looking at the horizon “Yeah, we will.”

That was the last time they talked before the war started. One of the two days he could pinpoint as the start of this whole bullshit.

When they accepted the war was going to happen no matter what they tried.

Chapter Text

Then there was the other day he could think about. A gruesome day.

Someone died.

A murder.

An Autobot killed a Decepticon sympathizer. Hung his body under a bridge, carved the Decepticon brand on his chest. A warning to any who might wear it.

Bee was the one that found the body… He was supposed to get him out of the city that day… He was late.

He imagines if he had been on time he’d be the one up there. He kept that realization to himself.

He tells Optimus First. This is an Autobot city, he’s closest. He’s on speed dial. Optimus tells him to stay put.

He scouts the surroundings- that’s his speciality. He finds a trail but waits for his friend. Optimus is here in minutes, alone.

There’s a moment when Bee thinks it’s weird he was already so close. But he doesn’t think too much about it, instead focusing on trying to come up with a plan with Optimus. This is bad. Real bad. What are they going to do? He has a trail to follow so he could-

He stops when he sees guilt in his optics. Optimus asks him not to tell anyone about this.

“What?!” He’s confused. Then angry. Fists and fangs clenched.

“If this gets known things will only get worse, Bee.” Optimus tries to reason with him “We need to tread carefully.” He speaks in a deep and deliberate way, choosing his words carefully.

Bee’s hand twitch “Do we? Do we, Prime?” Bee never calls Optimus that. Never just ‘Prime’. He calls him a lot of things: Optimus Prime, Optimus, Opti, OP, Boss bot, Big mech, Pops, Red and Blue, Primary, Orion Pax, Friend.

Never just ‘Prime’... Because that’s the only thing Megatron calls him.

It surprises them both. There’s silence. Bee looks at the ground. He knows why Optimus wants to do this. He understands. But… Bee isn’t dumb. He isn’t smart but he isn’t dumb.

“... This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?” His voice is small and sad.

Optimus’ silence is all he needs. His hands go limp.

Bee hugs Optimus that day knowing the next time they meet will be on the battlefield.

Megatron gave a speech “This is what they do to those that oppose them!”

Bee watched. In his shadow. He tracks the killers down. Megatron makes them into examples.

He declared war.

Bee blames Optimus for it.

Cliff blames Bee for it.

It wasn’t pretty. War. It was so different being against your own people rather than some Alien enemy. He didn’t think about it much. Never was his strong suit anyway.

In the end he did become a spy. Knowing the autobots better than any other con was an advantage they exploited fully. The war would probably have ended really quickly if he was okay using… less than morally acceptable methods of… taking care of his enemies. The numbers of times he ‘accidentally’ lost one of Shochwave’s inventions for the sake of avoiding genocide are too many to count…

Seriously Shockwave should know better by now-

He made a point not to kill anyone when he snuck around. It wasn’t their fault they were on the wrong side. Really. He even left small graffiti sometimes. ‘Bee was here’ with a smiley face. Don’t tell Megs about that- he’d probably say it’s a waste of time. But Bee found it funny. Autobots finding his tag and knowing their base was compromised. Hilarious!

They knew that. The autobots. That someone high in the Decepticon ranks didn’t have the goal to eradicate them- Some bot that actively guaranteed the war had less casualties than it could. It wasn’t said out loud but he practically had a free pass on both sides. Don’t touch the small yellow bot or everyone is against you.

So many of them believed he was a double agent. Thinking they were safe if they came face to face with the scout. Sure he’d avoid lethal blows when possible… but…

It was more complicated than that. Bee wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. He was still loyal to Megatron. If a bot stood in his way? Well, Bee had very useful knife hands to take care of it.

Felt justified to do so. If they weren’t ready to die for their own cause then why put yourself there in the first place? It’s why he wouldn’t let himself feel sad about it. When he struck down a bot he knew the name of. They knew what they got into. And that usually ends with corpses. He knew that. They knew that. It was just how things were.

And then he died. Had it coming, really.

He didn’t know how. Well he did know how. But…

It was a battle for- He can’t even remember what it was for.

He stuck to Megatron’s shadow.

There’s smoke. Explosions. Fire. Bee zips from one bot to the next, doesn’t kill them unless he has to- He’d gotten good at injuring bots just enough that they couldn’t fight, but didn’t die.

He sees Ratchet, tending to the wounded. He likes Ratchet, he’s fun and grumpy. Ratchet doesn’t see him, so Bee leaves him be.

Megatron sees Ratchet, tending to the wounded… Megatron isn’t merciful. He raises his arm cannon and shoots. Bee can’t really intervene. Sorry, Ratch, wrong time, wrong place-

Then Optimus Prime appeared. Blocking the shot and protecting his medic. He yells Megatron’s name with as much anger as Megs yells his. Bee gives a smile and a wave but it’s not received well- right… timing. They’re in a war zone.

It was known that neither of them allowed anyone else to intervene in their duels… So Bee kept his distance. Keeping an optic on them. Have to make sure they don’t kill each other. There’s more smoke. More fire. More energon spilled.

Megatron is winning. There’s a flash.

He feels his spark shake. Cliffjumper? Someone screams his name. And it’s just then that he realizes he jumped in front of both leaders- blocking a deadly shot- who was it aimed at? Who did he protect? Who took the shot? It hits his chest, the left side, his arm is blown off.

Time slows down.

B-127 gasps. He hit the ground but didn’t feel it. His optics locked upward, seeing smoke. He hoped he’d see the sky one last time. A sunset sky. It was the first kind he ever saw up there.

Instead he saw smoke. Couldn’t help but think it looked like a blanket. Covering him. He smiled. He wasn’t online long enough to say goodbye. But that’s okay.

If he wasn’t ready to die for his friends then why put yourself there in the first place? It’s why he wouldn’t let himself feel sad about it. He can’t see the sky anymore. He knew what he got into. And that usually ends with corpses. He knew that. They knew that. It was just how things were.

Don’t be sad, okay? It’s just war. It’s what they asked for.

Chapter Text

So B-127 died… what now? The Allspark! The well of all life on Cybertron. Some call it Primus’ spark. The place they all come from and where they’ll all come back to.

It’s more tangible than you’d think it is. B-127 still has a shape, a mind, a will. He doesn’t have hands but he can grab things. No eyes but he can see. He can move but chooses not to. He isn’t alone. He’s where everybody that isn’t is. He isn’t so he is here. Simple as that.

It’s not so bad being dead.

He waits at the entrance. Or what he thinks is the entrance. It must be because that’s where everybody comes and goes. Some sparks are sent out, some come in. There’s a pretty even between the two. None of them wait here like he does.

He sits there and he waits- or stands? He has a shape but the space around him doesn’t. He can do both and neither at the same time- anyway. The important thing is that he waits. He isn’t alone but most of the people he wants to see aren’t here yet.

And he HAS to be there to welcome them. He misses them already. What’s the point of an afterlife if he can’t enjoy it with his friends?

He can’t rest yet. He thinks the after life knows that and it’s why he’s allowed to stay at the entrance.

He can still feel Cliffjumper.

…

It’s odd being dead. Feels weird.

He’s not sure if he’s supposed to feel anything at all. But at least he isn’t bored.

He stops just looking at the entrance. He’ll know when Cliff arrives. He’ll just know. So he looks around. What does the allspark look like?

It’s a lot of blue. Bright blue. He sees a silhouette in the background. It’s about his size. Maybe. Because he’s pretty sure it’s an infinite way away. He looks at the entrance and when he looks back to the silhouette it isn’t a silhouette anymore.

First he just thinks it’s gone. It’s only when it opens it’s optic that he realizes it’s right in front of him. Right there. And its giant. Bigger than he could comprehend but he can see all of it at once. He can see every detail and angle and he isn’t even trying to look.

Is that the Allspark? Or… Primus? Is he waiting too?

Primus had a brother. Bee knows- Bee learns.

Primus talked to him. Not with words. Not with tangible words. But now Bee knows things he didn’t before so Primus must have told him. Primus grabbed him, gently.

Primus had a brother.

He’s waiting too.

…

When he got here there weren’t a lot of other sparks that arrived with him. But now each… day? Hour? Century?

The more time passes the more sparks arrive. Waves and waves of them. Blue, green, red, yellow, pink- less and less are coming out…

Some that come in are familiar. He saw them leave. It’s much too early for them to come back.

He feels tired. Well not him. Himself. He isn’t tired. But he feels *tired* all around him is tired. The space- the not space he’s in is tired.

The allspark is tired.

He has a shape, a mind and a will and he tries to comfort the allspark. Just let it know it isn’t alone… He doesn’t know if other sparks can give it the same courtesy.

He can’t see the silhouette anymore. He’s probably too tired to be… there.

Some more sparks are sent out and he hopes he doesn’t see them too soon again. He pokes them on the way out. Wishing them good luck.

He’s kind of glad Cliffjumper isn’t here yet, he hopes he can look after the newsparks.

…

It’s lonely being dead.

Talking to the allspark is pretty great and all but it can’t talk back. Primus either. Not anymore.

He can still feel his other half.

It’s foggy but it’s there. Not here. But there. They are one split spark. He figures that’s why he feels so alive. Compared to everything else here. He *is* half alive. Because his half is alive.

He wonders if that means his half feels half dead…

No new sparks have been sent out in a while, he can tell. And there aren’t that many that enter either… because there aren’t that many left to return.

There are still waves. Meaning a battle. He starts to talk to them. Well not talk- none of them have a mouth but he can communicate. Kind of. He grabs a spark- gently, and he asks how it died.

And that’s how he learns that the planet is dying. Bots keep killing each other and there is little hope. Each spark he meets he sees more destruction. Time passing by the decades. He sees Megatron. He sees Optimus. He sees Elita-One. He sees Cliffjumper-

Cliffjumper.

He tries to leave the allspark. He bolts towards the entrance but he can’t leave. The allspark isn’t letting him. He’s stuck here for moments and those moments could be centuries and Cliffjumper looked so sad- sad and angry and he can’t believe he left his brother alone out there.

…

He stops trying to leave.

The allspark is tired.

Bee knows it’s hurt too. Cybertronian were never meant to die so many at the same time. War exhausted it.

War between themselves even more. Bee wonders if it can see how each spark dies and that’s why it’s starting to give up. He wonders if Primus’s heart is sad. He wonders if Primus is sad.

He grabs the allspark, gently.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been there. Here. But it's probably long enough that he can call the allspark ‘friend’. Maybe it isn’t possible to be friends with the afterlife but he is anyway.

The Allspark grabs him, gently. It feels a lot like Primus. He wonders if they’re the same. They’re not.

The Allspark is tired. Gray. It should be blue.

If it keeps sending out more. If more come back- The Allspark won’t be able to be for much longer. It won’t be able to protect them. Won’t be able to make more. Won’t be able to receive the rest. It gave so much already and it needs to rest. Mourn.

Only one more. One that’s already half there. Then no more.

He wakes up. Alone. In darkness. Illuminated in blue. His name is Bumblebee. That’s all he knows. He steps outside. The shades of pink and purple are familiar.

Chapter Text

Do you know how loud someone has to scream for it to be completely silent?

First he hears it. Megatron screams. Raging. Scrambling to Bee’s body. He cries out even louder as the yellow becomes gray in his arms.

He yells loud enough the battle stops.

It’s all they can hear and it’s deafening. That’s when it becomes quiet. When it’s the only sound. When it’s all you can hear. Because it’s not just about the noise. It’s about the horror accompanied with it.

Some think Optimus is the one that died- but it’s another kind of quiet when they realize it’s B-127.

Cliff watches his brother’s body become gray. Sees the pool of energon beneath it. He doesn’t move. His arm cannon falls to his side and cools down against his leg, it burns. He doesn’t feel anything.

He had the shot. He had the SHOT-

Optimus stands.

Optimus stands in front of Megatron.

Optimus stands in front of Megatron holding Bee.

They all see the same thing. Everyone around them. Brothers mourning their youngest.

He reaches with his hand- Megatron’s optics snap up. Red. Even more than before. Pools of reds with a white dot in the middle. They’re accusatory. Filled with so much rage and sorrow and it’s twice now that Optimus has been at the receiving end of those.

Megatron growls “He’s done saving you.”

And then they fight. It’s violent. Megatron doesn’t take pleasure in hurting him this time. It’s just rage. Rage and grief. Optimus fights back. Much the same.

Optimus doesn’t yell. He doesn’t say anything at all. Any hit he received doesn’t hurt as much as his spark breaking in two. Cliffjumper is the same. But he can’t fight through it. He’s too busy clutching at his chest trying to keep his broken spark from shattering further.

Megatron’s generals call for a retreat. Optimus vaguely hears Elita do the same. Starscream rips Megatron away from Optimus-

His ire now on the seeker. It doesn’t seem to register he’s beating Starscream up- or maybe he knows and just doesn’t care. Not anymore.

The Prime is frozen until Soundwave and Shockwave intervene to save Starscream’s life.

Bee's body is gone when the Prime looks for it.

Cliffjumper is on the ground when he looks for him.

They’re at war and a retreat was called. They had to go. His limbs ache when he kneels down. He puts his hand on Cliff’s shoulder. They’re in a hurry, he thinks, but every movement is so painfully slow. Everything around him is a blurr, like rain on a glass window.

Cliffjumper looks up and there are tears. He opens his mouth, closes it.

Optimus brings him home. At base. He doesn’t leave his side because maybe he’ll disappear too.

Cliff is stuck on that battlefield. He just keeps looking for that connection, that bond, the light he always knew where it was. He can’t find it. It doesn’t exist anymore. He saw it disappear. He’s alone.

Elita-One picks up the pieces. She doesn’t break. She doesn’t cry. Not yet. She keeps her head up and tells people what to do. Where to go. How to be. Someone needs to do it and she can’t let Optimus do it because she doesn’t want to feel the pain.

It’s not much but it’s the least she can do. It’s easy. Because everything pauses. It’s not war. It’s not peace. It’s grief.

Bee had done so much for them. For all of them. All of cybertron.

There's a funeral.

The autobots don’t have a body to send back to the well, but they make him a headstone. Many offer their innermost energon. Even people that never met him.

She cries when she’s alone. After everything is organised and dealt with, bots around her finally take some weight off her shoulders. When there isn’t anything holding her back.

She breaks down and cries and feels the loss. She mourns. Quickly. She accepts it. She takes a breath. Picks herself up. And keeps going.

Time regains its course. Bots need to sleep and eat and laugh. It’s war and they lose bots all the time. Just like in the mines. But it’s rare when everyone loses someone at the same time…

Elita visits it often. The headstone. She always visits the graves. Reminding herself why she fights. It’s for them. All of them. And now Bee too.

She finds objects there. It’s… a miniature version of Steve. Damn. She hadn’t thought about that guy in ages. She can’t help it and laughs when she sees it. She doesn’t think about how he got here.

“You came to visit too, eh?” She crouches down and gives mini Steve a poke. “He can’t talk to you anymore- but I guess I am now. The war is finally getting to my head- I’m getting as crazy as he was.” She chuckles to herself.

Steve doesn’t answer.

Bee neither.

She reads the words on the headstone, smiling.

“Brother. Friend. Warrior.” Words he defined himself by. The three fundamental things he chose to embody.

He’d done so many things. Killed a lot. He crossed so many lines. But he never stopped calling them friends. It was weird. So many times did Elita convince herself that Bee had changed. That he was too far gone. That he was a shadow of who she’d met back then. Truly believing he was a force to be put down…

He was kind.

She would hear tale after tale. Spared bots that he helped escape. Medics he protected during battle. The graffiti he left that made Prowl and Ironhide go insane because they couldn’t figure out HOW he kept getting in. All the bots he’d helped even before the war.

She saw kindness when she saw all the people he hurt- always hurt just enough that they’d recover when treated.

Even when he killed.

Even when he fucking killed. He didn’t disrespect the dead. He’d let the autobots get the bodies back. Once he even sent them coordinates. It could have been a trap- SHOULD have been a trap. But it wasn’t. He was vicious when he fought. He liked fighting. Always did. A gladiator at heart. But he wasn’t some vicious monster.

He wasn’t like Megatron.

He became a legend. Someone to respect.

She’s pretty sure Bee had no idea.

Elita-One wonders what happens to his body.

She doubts they sent it to the well. Because that’s what a good friend would have done.

And she's right.

Megatron sits on his throne. One of his thrones. In a dark private room. Then he stands and stares. Stares at the grey body laying out on the table. Broken.

There is a very. Very dark temptation within the Decepticon leader. He knows where Shockwave hid the one thing that could bring Bee back.

He cups the side of Bee’s face. The bot smiling. Even in death.

“I’ll do right by you, Bee. I swear it.”

He doesn’t give in. Yet.

Bee’s body stays there. For centuries. Megatron talks to him.

One day he’ll talk back.

Chapter Text

It’s expected really. Without Bee… there’s no Decepticon remotely on the autobot’s side. No one says ‘Maybe we don’t build nukes’ to Shockwave. No one says ‘What if we *did* feed the prisoners?’ to Starscream. No one says ‘That’s not what we fight for, Megatron.’ When he needs to step over the line.

So he steps over the line.

“Leave them there for *him* to find.” He says, not bothering to wipe the energon off his hands. It wouldn’t go away anyway.

“Yes, lord Megatron.” Starscream bows to him. As he should.

-

The bodies may be gray but Optimus knows what colour they used to be when he finds them. Yellow.

The Prime and his Commander speak. ‘he’s too far gone’, ‘he must be taken down’, - said again and again and again. Empty words repeated so much they lost their meaning to Cliffjumper, who stands at the back.

Another day, another pile of bodies. He needs to go cool off.

The weapons expert leaves before anyone can stop him. Racing to one of the few spots he won’t be bothered as Prime’s right hand man.

He races long enough for his tires to be sore when he’s bothered by the two bots he doesn’t mind being in his way. He skids to a stop and with a bounce he transforms to meet with his two blue racer friends: Blurr and Chromia.

“Heard it happened again. Prime is going to make an announcement about it.” Blurr speaks quickly.

He raises an eyebrow, “He is finally making bots change their paint?” That would be the only satisfying answer.

“Yep.” Chromia confirms “We’re here to bring you to it. Want to shoot stuff until people notice we aren’t at the assembly?” She already walks past him down the track to their designated shooting range. Not even bothering to pretend they’re going to make him attend.

They call it a track but it’s more of a run down road that wasn’t completely destroyed in the war. It’s also a great place to explode stuff without getting in trouble.

If anyone asks he’s just testing out his weaponry.

They set up a bunch of rubble in a line far enough to make it a challenge. And they all take turns to shoot.

They don’t talk about what happened. Not unless Cliffjumper brings it up.

He takes the first shot. Misses. Frowning at his shaking barrel like it betrayed him. Again.

Before. Gold and yellow weren’t rare colours a Cybertronian could be. Didn’t stand out in a crowd. Now they did. Because there weren’t many of them left.
There won’t be any left for Megatron to kill.

Blurr takes the next shot, impeccable form. Bullseye. He quips at Chromia to do better than that as she takes aim. She shoots twice, hits both. She smirks at him.

The small red bot doesn’t smirk back, in fact, he hasn’t even lowered his barrel yet. He shoots. He shoots until his barrel runs hot.

Cliffjumper hates it. He hates so much. He hates yellow. He hates Decepticons. He hates Megatron. He hates himself. He hates and hates and hates. He hates.

He shoots until there aren’t any targets left.

He lowers his barrel, letting it burn the side of his leg as it cools down. It makes a bump as the metal softens and melts slightly. It hurts. He doesn’t react to it. It’s just one bump amongst many others.

Today may be the last day he sees that grayed out yellow. But he’ll never forget how it looked on his brother.

He hates his brother. He hates that he died. He hates all of it.

“It’s been 50 Cycles (years) today.” He knows. He kept count. “Feels longer.” He lets himself fall on his butt. Closing his optics.

There's a moment of silence before Chromia speaks up “Alright- feelings time.” The Blue Bot taps Blurr’s arm to get him to pay attention. She crouches beside Cliffjumper. “Lay it out, red.”

“It’s… I miss him.” His words weigh more than he can express.

Blurr doesn't lower himself with them: the ground is dirty. He’d rather avoid dirt, he just had a polish. He simply stands there in his glorious shiny finish. “We can go visit his grave if you want.” See? Didn’t HAVE to be filthy to be an emotionally supportive awesome friend.

He shakes his head “He wouldn’t want me there.” That’s a lie. He just doesn’t deserve to visit. Pretty sure he hasn’t been there since the funeral. “It wouldn’t help anyway.”

Chromia tilts her head “You seem pretty sure about that.”

“Before I found him again… I always felt… empty? Like I missed something. I filled that spot with racing and people- fun stuff. And it worked, kinda. It distracted me enough that it didn’t bother me anymore.” He taps the melted spots on his leg, turning his cannon back into a hand. “Now I know what’s missing, can’t bring myself to ignore it.” He frowned “And I know it’ll always be missing now.” He grunts and hits the ground. “So yeah… I’m just stuck feeling like that now.”

Blurr crosses his arms, one hand on his chin “Have you tried getting *really* drunk?” He asks plainly.

Chromia gives Blurr a look.

Cliffjumper huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, fingers on his forehead. “Wow, Blurr, thank you. Why didn’t I think of that?” He drips as much sarcasm as he can towards his good buddy Blurr that he gets drunk with every other day.

Blurr scoffs, offended. “I’m doing my fucking best how dare you.”

Chromia, deadpan, grabs a handful of dirt while maintaining eye contact with Blurr. Cliffjumper, on the same wave link, does it as well. The younger blue bot notices and stands on guard “You wouldn’t dare.” They have a staring contest.

Further away some ruble falls and it works as a starting shot as they all start to run. Chromia and Cliffjumper run after a distressed Blurr screaming at them “THIS IS BULLYING!”

Blurr, by most accounts. Is faster than both of them- much faster. The fastest, even. But The other two racers know how to gain an edge by maneuvering around the ruined road in ways Blurr wouldn’t dare to.

Soon after, screams of horror can be heard from miles around as someone has his new finish completely ruined.

The fun continues until Chromia gets a call from Ironhide: People noticed they weren’t there.

He checks his internal communicator and… yeah. About a dozen missed calls from Prime. He complains about it on the way over.

“It’s because he’s worried about you.” Chromia reminds him.

“What he is is annoying. Overbearing, even. He won’t let me out of his sight for five-” As if on cue his communicator came to life as Optimus once again sent him a message. Asking him where he was, if he was okay, and if he needed help-

Cliffjumper rolls his optics as he answers with a very sincere smiley face before they roll back to base where Optimus gives him one of his pitiful looks. From his perspective the Prime is the one that should be on the receiving end.

Cliffjumper rolls his optics one more time. “Prime.” He feels Blurr tap his back as he walks past them. Sees Chromia also take off to join Elita-One somewhere on his left.

“Cliffjumper.” The Prime’s voice is deep. Mournful. Seems Cliff isn’t the only one that know what days it is. “I’ve made an announcement-”

Cliff cuts him off. “I know. No more yellow, right?”

Optimus Prime nods.

Maybe they’re both secretly glad there won’t be anymore yellow bots running around. Less reasons to remember who it reminds them of.

-

It works… kind of. Megatron isn’t any less merciless. But the trail of bodies the Decepticon leaves behind are more colourful now- With a distinct lack of yellow.

Time passes and it’s like Bee never existed at all.

Time passes and Cliffjumper stops counting the days since he let his barrel burn his leg for the first time.

The day when his optics turned yellow.

Chapter Text

Optimus is a leader. He’s a Prime. A role forced into his cold dead chest. Resurrected for this purpose only: Leadership.

Again and again he has sworn his spark to his people. He continues on this path by choice now. For the sake of himself, his fellow autobots, and those he failed to lead.

His willingness does not make the weight on his shoulder any lighter.

He is the one and only Prime left. Perhaps even the last there will ever be. The meaning of the title has changed many times during his lifetime… each time he does his best to honor it.

A leader, A protector, A shield, A light, A guide, A teacher, A caretaker. Hope.

He had to learn being all those things as needed. It was his duty.

He has a guide… Somewhat. The Matrix of Leadership.

It tells him things, the matrix. Gives him wisdom beyond his years. The voices of the Primes before him. Echoes. Not ghosts.

He learned to listen to it. Follow it. *Embody* it. It gives him the strength to hold all the responsibilities on his shoulders and keep standing.

It’s been three thousand years since Optimus Prime rose up.

He’s not new at this, he realizes. Not anymore. Can’t quite pinpoint when that happened. Not being new. He’s too busy trying to end a war.

Every sunset he hopes the next day will be the last. The last of the horrors of war.

It never is.

“Prime. We have a new wave of newsparks.” Ironhide tells him. He looks grim.

They go as fast as they can.

The Decepticons got to the protoforms first anyway.

Once he came to power, one thing he had to learn above many was the life cycle of the planet. How and when new life would emerge from the allspark.

They came in batches from Energon pools. Rising from its depth, then standing still as their processors became online. They were helpless until then- He would know. It was during that phase his t-cog had been stolen.

It would be his responsibility to welcome the protoforms. Keep them safe. Educate them. Do as a Prime was to do.

That didn’t happen as often as it should- The cycle was off. Unpredictable to the Autobots. New life became about new soldiers rather than new life.

They’d figure that Shockwave found a way to predict what pool would activate and when- because the Decepticons suddenly started occupying specific spots for a time… and leaving with more troops.

Megatron doesn’t respect life. Any new sparks that refuse to show compliance- he simply returns them to the allspark. Calls it mercy.

Optimus is tired of finding the bodies. Each spark lost is a hit to his own. A failure.

“There is nothing more we can do for them.” He speaks from behind his mask. It’s been so long since he put it down.

Ironhide nods “Copy that, Prime.”

They call for Ratchet to look over the bodies. Check for any spare parts they could use. Unsurprisingly, he finds few. No doubt Shockwave already took anything useful.

They still have the decency to return what is left to the well.

That was the last time they did. Because no more waves emerged a thousand years afterwards.

…

After a particularly harsh battle. Ratchet and Ironhide talk while the Prime pretends he has other matters to attend to. That usually doesn’t work with these two, but today it does.

Perhaps they are indulging him some respite.

Optimus Prime finds himself alone. Many hours later, when he should be in recharge. He’s looking for someone that’s avoiding him. Already sent so many messages he doesn’t bother with more. But he knows Cliffjumper is there.

He passes a long forgotten graffiti on the wall, and doesn't have to look at it to know what it says.

Knowing why Cliffjumper is avoiding him doesn’t make him feel better.

He tells himself he can’t help it. All he wants is to keep his friend safe. He gets to be a little selfish about this. Period of times when he doesn’t let him go into the field. Giving him bureaucratic tasks. Staying back even when he’s eager for a fight.

It’s not always like this- the feeling comes and goes. Somedays, in battle, all he can think about is ‘where is he?’ and tries to find him. It distracts him- puts himself and his men in danger. So when that happens… he has Cliffjumper stand back. So he knows exactly where he is: safe.

It happens with Elita-One as well… But she doesn’t deal with his bullshit. Scowls at him and reassings herself while maintaining eye contact. Maybe she’d be more understanding if he told anyone about how he felt.

Four thousand years of war. Of death. Of mistakes. Before the Cybertronians notice their planet is dying and they have the audacity not to know why.

Energon rivers become rare. The fights become less about revenge or ideology and more about resources and energon.

There isn’t a need to fight over that yet- but they know it’s coming. They see the signs. Optimus feels the change. It’s slow. But it’s there.

He finds Cliffjumper in the armory. Of course. If not on the battlefield, his place is amongst weapons.

Facing away from the door, away from Optimus. 

“Go away.” Cliff’s gruff cuts the silence.

“Cliffjumper, My Friend-”

“No. Don’t ‘My Friend’ me” He mimics his voice “You’ve benched me *again*. You’re letting an Elite out of combat and putting you at a disadvantage *on purpose*. You can’t call me a friend when you think you can just willy nilly decide whether or not I have a choice about where and when I can put myself in danger because of that glowing thing in your chest.”

He angrily puts together a shoulder cannon grenade, tossing it in a barrel filled with dozen others. It was the least he could do: Make sure they had enough firepower to compensate for his absence on the battlefield.

Optimus stands there. Letting Cliffjumper calm down a little. But he know no matter how long he waits, Cliff's optics won't change.

“I’m going on patrol.” Cliff stated.

Ah- so Cliff finally had enough. Going the Elita route and simply… assigning himself. Frankly he’s surprised this hasn’t happened earlier.

“Duly noted.” Optimus nods, sighing and sitting down on a nearby crate that he hoped wouldn’t explode under him.

A moment passes before Cliffjumper asks “How many?”

Optimus doesn’t need to ask what. “Seven. Twelve.” First the deaths, then the injured. “We failed to secure the depot.”

“... Wouldn’t have failed if I was there.” Cliff mutters.

The Prime nods, rubbing his hands together. Still Blue. He looks at his forearms. Red, like his chassis. He never did get around to pain them. Never will. “You’re probably right. You’ll be there next time… Old Friend. ”

And then Cliff was gone for patrol.

… Yeah… Optimus definitely wasn’t ‘young’ anymore.

Chapter Text

What did it mean to be a Decepticon?

You didn’t have a space of your own, you lived in barracks, on a base, you were personnel. Branded. Property of the cause. Liberators of oppression! Or so the posters say.

Didn’t have a choice or you’d be… terminated. Questioning the boss translates to betrayal in Decepticon territory. You didn’t lavish, didn’t live in luxury. You are told you are the strongest side. The better side. The right side. People boast about their superiority… But they have little to show for it.

Seems like they’ve forever been at a stalemate if you asked Breakdown.

If you’re a Decepticon then you’re a soldier. A killing machine. You don’t need to think. That's the generals’ jobs. They’d rather you didn’t think at all. Simply follow orders.

And that was pretty cool actually. Who doesn’t like mindlessly fighting for your life everyday?

Ever since he emerged, Breakdown has been a soldier. A Decepticon. The second his optic opened he had to raise his arm cannon and take the life of another bot. It was either him or them. He was faster. He didn’t mind it- but he would rather have had a heads up.

He was branded just as fast. Put to work even faster. Having proved he was a survivor before he knew the meaning of the word. Before his colours even set.

Not that bad of an existence if you’re into that.

… Even if he didn’t have anything else to compare it to. Felt fine by him.

One thing that did bother him was how… stale it got around base. The only forms of entertainment around here are beating each other up, messing with autobot prisoners, or listening to Thundercracker’s stories. Slim pickings.

So... he had fun his own way. Mostly by sneaking out.
The trick was just to come back before anyone noticed. What’s more is that it was always hilarious to come back to his fellow stunticons absolutely fuming, waiting for him to come back- resulting in them beating each other up. But what else would they do? Snitch on him? Ah!

Night or Day- he always took the first opportunity to sneak away and simply drive. Fast. Breakdown was fast. He rarely snuck away to the same place twice, instead always driving faster and further until he found something interesting.

Oh and what an interesting thing he found this time. Just at sunset, just before he would have turned back. There was this… Blue light, shooting into the sky. It was pale, it was thin, if he hadn’t been so close he wouldn't have noticed it. The shine intrigued him, especially since it remained until the sky turned pink and purple.

He had no clue what this place was but it sure was weird. Mostly because it wasn’t in ruin like everything else. A crater containing an entire ghost town. Statues, roads, buildings with readable signs all around the main attraction; a sort of silo, simple looking and seemingly carved out rather than built up. There was no protection from the sky- so Breakdown had no clue how this hadn’t gotten melted down by acid rains.

That didn’t interest him, oh no. That’s boring stuff compared to the brand new shiny looking protoform standing right at the entrance… Looking at the sky.

Breakdown hid, looking at it- checking and double checking that he wasn’t imagining things. Yep. That was a protoform. He was one of those once. And not just that but it was *yellow*. Bright Yellow- with Blue eyes just as bright.

He’d never seen *anyone* that colour- and lived long enough to change their paint. Just as Breakdown pondered on what to do, the protoform (something he didn’t think anyone had seen in centuries) put his hands around his mouth and yelled.

“IS ANYONE HERE? HELOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?” The call reverberating all around them.

Breakdown flipped- rushing out of his hiding space and shoving the kid back into the silo out of any potential onlookers view “Are you crazy??? Do you want to get killed or did you just not get your common sense uploaded correctly?”

The protoform smiled brightly at him “Well how else was I supposed to find anyone? There’s like… no one around. Except you! Hi! I’m Bumblebee! It’s nice to meet you.” Bumblebee offers his hand for him to shake.

Breakdown’s mouth hangs open in disbelief and his eyes squint. “Dude.” He presses the bridge of his nose between two fingers and sighs, hoping the kid hadn’t imprinted on him or whatever it is that protoforms do. “This is so not the time for this-”

He opened his eyes to see Bumblebee hadn’t moved from his position, looking up at him brightly.

Breakdown squinted, the unbroken yellow even brighter up close- almost out shining the blue lights coming from his eyes. He could tell some places would become darker in a few hours- maybe racing stripes? The protoform was shorter than him by quite a bit, rounded bulky edges, horns on the top of his head and he could see doorwings flapping on his back.

“...”

That kid was ABSOLUTELY going to get killed if anyone found him- wait why did Breakdown even care about this? He can just leave and never think of this again.

“Alright, so, Welcome to the world, Buddy!” He smiles and waves his fingers at the side of his face. “I’m not sure how you got there but I don’t really care so I’m just gonna go back home now- Piece of advice, don’t bring attention to yourself.” He looks outside to make sure the coast is clear before giving a small salute to the kid and leaving “See ya never!” He doesn’t look back.

He stays sneaky, just in case the idiot yellow bot did catch anyone else’s attention after all- this was a ghost city… but that didn’t mean he was 100% sure he was alone.

“So where are we going?” Comes a cheery (sassy?) voice behind him, Breakdown loudly (allegedly) yelps and turns around, hand on his torso as he makes eye contact with the brightest Blue optics he’s had the displeasure of seeing. “Ey, don’t bring attention to yourself.” Bumblebee smirks and makes a ‘hush’ gesture.

Breakdown composes himself and looks around to make sure it’s safe “Oh, you have jokes now?” he frowns at the bot “How’d you get there??” He hadn’t heard the bot sneak up on him- and that worried him.

Bumblebee has the AUDACITY of looking confused, tilting his head “...I followed you? You said we were going back home?”

Oh scrap did the kid actually imprinted on him what the frag- “I said *I* would go back home. Me- why am I even explaining this to you-” Screw being sneaky, Breakdown transformed and zoomed out of there. Ain’t no way that shiny bucket could follow him now.

He drove to the edge of the crater- and slowed down… No, he didn’t feel bad about leaving a kid on his own in the middle of nowhere- shut up. He just had to go back to base and forget-

“Why’d you slow down?” A voice came behind him AGAIN.

“MOTHER TRUCKER-” He slammed the brakes and drifted to a stop, enough to see Bumblebee’s new alt form doing the same “STOP DOING THAT!” He let his engine rev up.

“Doing what? I literally just followed you!” Bumblebee turned his headlight on and off- “Oh I have lights- cool.”

It wasn’t a proper vehicle mode- but Breakdown couldn’t help but notice and (allegedly) be impressed how the kid managed to keep up with him. But he didn’t care! He really didn’t! Angry that this kid keeps following him instead. “Oh you- STOP FOLLOWING ME THEN!”

His engine revved up some more and he drove away- fast. Really fast.

Bumblebee followed.

“BUT YOU’RE THE ONLY PERSON I KNOW! What else am I supposed to do?????” Bumblebee was also fast- keeping up with Breakdown.

“Find someone else! I don’t know! It’s not my problem!” He kept shouting as he went even faster. Bumblebee kept up- driving beside him. Making it look easy.

Bumblebee didn’t answer- instead even going a bit faster than Breakdown…

Oh Frag This-

Breakdown did not hesitate and went faster- surpassing Bumblebee- only to have the yellow bot do so as well.

“Oh you’re going down, kid.” Breakdown huffed. For any other Decepticon- saying that would have been a death threat.

But for Breakdown? That meant he found someone to race with.

“OH YOU’RE ON!” Bumblebee laughed as the two speeders raced against each other for hours after sunset. Finding paths to compare time- challenging each other to do stupid stunts they couldn’t help but laugh at whether they failed or succeeded.

Breakdown didn’t even notice how much fun he was having until it stopped- When Breakdown figured that they really weren’t alone anymore “Ey, BumbleBrat-”

“BumbleBEE” He corrected.

“Shut it-” He transformed into bipedal mode and brought Bumblebee into a small alcove as an Autobot helicopter’s light beam passed right where they were moments ago. “Scrap-” They’d driven right into Autobot territory.

It wasn’t often that Breakdown left his guard down- most cons even called him paranoid. He was mad at himself now because he didn’t pay enough attention- He’d rather die than get captured over something as stupid as one of his little escapades. He was going to find a way out of this scrap.

Bumblebee saw how worried he seemed and frowned “...That’s other people, right? Why are we hiding from them? Shouldn’t we go greet them?”

Breakdown frowned… then smirked as he heard some shouting not too far from them. “You know what Bumblebee? You’re right. You should go and say hello, I'm sure they’d be really happy to see you.”

Bumblebee smirked in turn “Trying to get rid of me again?”

Breakdown scoffed “Pff- no. I’ll be right behind you, I swear.” He lied.

Bumblebee nodded, believing it. Breakdown almost felt bad at how easy it was.

…

The moment the autobots found Bumblebee and was sure they were distracted- Breakdown made a break for it.

He looked back to see a red bot punching Bumblebee to the ground. Oof- good luck little buddy!

Still in bipedal mode as to minimise noise he gained some distance before seeing that the helicopter bot was now back to scanning the area. Checking for more intruders. 

Damn- Did Bumblebee rat him out? Breakdown almost feels proud. It doesn’t matter anyway as he can easily avoid the Elicopter’s light and move away from his search path. Much easier to do than if it had been an ArialBot. 

Still there’s some challenge as he almost comes bumper to bumper with a familiar blue race car. Blurr. Probably one of the few bots that could actually give him trouble. 

“Found some tire tracks- someone else was definitely here.” He hears the racer say into a comm. 

Scrap. He’s going to have to play the long game with this one. If he gets spotted, it’s over. No way he can out drive Blurr- Breakdown is fast but he isn’t Blurr fast. 

It takes longer than he’d like- he can already hear Motormaster’s disapproving speech for coming back so late. He briefly considers letting himself be captured to avoid it… Anyhow.

The terrain is a great help for letting him stay hidden. Lots of rocks, means there's many paths, nooks and crannies that Blurr checks more than once- making him lose time. 

Wouldn’t be much of a problem if he took his time remembering which spaces he checked- but Blurr never takes anything slow. So while hiding from Blurr and avoiding the helicopter’s light beam, Breakdown gains enough distance that he’s confident he won’t get caught as he transforms into his alt mode and drives off. 

Only when he makes it back to base that he really feels like he made it out, sneakily making his way back to the Stunticon’s barrack as his wheels scream at him for a good stasis. 

He doesn’t make it to his berth before he is stopped by the sight of Wildrider, awake and staring at him. Having waited for his return. 

“Frag.” 

Avoiding a fight just to get into another one.