Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mo! Robby! Alex and Dorothy are calling you two to eat!” Bumblebee shouted to the Maltos from across the field, “It’s 8 pm!”

A round of shocked exclaims came from the group, and the next second, the children raced towards Bumblebee, who chuckled quietly at their theatrics.

It was nearing the end of the summer, entering into the autumn, meaning the days are becoming colder and stormier- so the kids weren’t allowed to play outside when it was too windy. However, it had only rained earlier on, giving the kids a chance to play- with permission- in the down pour.

Bumblebee had watched over them from his signature tree (the one he always rested under when doing his work) making sure they didn’t hurt themselves on accident or catch a cold (although they probably already had).

“It’s already 8?” Thrash questioned as he comes to a stop next to Bee, before adding happily, “Time goes fast when you’re having fun!”

“Yeah, yeah- you’re just saying that because you still don’t know how to read the time.”

“Hey!” Thrash attempted to whack Twitch, but the red Terran quickly swooped out of the way, laughing brightly.

“You don’t either!” Hashtag chipped in cheekily.

“Wha- yes, I do!” Twitch retaliated, clearly offended by the accusation.

“Okay, guys, tone it down.” Bumblebee interrupted, “You can learn how to read the clock tomorrow.”

“I already know how to tell the time already, though?” Nightshade replied, tilting their head quizzically.

It’s no surprise that they were already able to figure out how to read clocks; Nightshade loved tinkering with whatever they could find (including the clock Bumblebee had given the Terrans to learn from).

“Hey, N? Could you maybe… help me learn?” JB asked quietly, smiling slightly when Nightshade grinned and nodded their head.

Bumblebee carried on, “And it’s great you know how to already, well done-“ Nightshade glows with pride, “But we still need to get Mo and Robby back home so they can eat.”

“And we might need to clean up…” Robby mentioned, looking down at his clothes, which were damp and caked with mud, Mo being in the same state.

“That too.” Bee accepted the add on, slight amusement in his voice.

“You know what this means…” Mo began, grinning mischievously, before shrieking, “Last one there is a rotten egg!”

In the blink of an eye, Thrash plucked Mo from the ground, transformed into his alt mode and took off in the direction of the house.

“Hey!” Robby shouted after them, although there was a large grin plastered onto his face, “Let’s get ‘em, guys!”

“Let’s go!” Twitch transformer, swooping low to let Robby jump on before zooming away, Jawbreaker, Hashtag and Nightshade following them quickly.

Bumblebee sighed, although it was more content than annoyed. Swiftly transforming, the yellow mech raced off, making sure the kids stay safe on the roads.

:::

The drive to the Malto household was chaotic (to say the least) but they managed to get there quickly and, more importantly, safely (although the Maltos bickered endlessly with each other the way there)

Dorothy and Alex took one look at the kids before ushering them inside and making them take baths before they eat.

The Terrans loitered outside the house in the backyard, chatting amongst themselves and playing board games.

Bumblebee sat next to the open bar table, listening to Alex tell some sort of story while Dorothy slices some vegetables.

“… and then…”

Bee kept on tuning in and out of the one sided conversation. A small click comes from his HUD, startling him slightly.

It wasn’t loud, not at all, but he had always been sensitive to sound due to his horns. He had always been able to pick up sounds and signals seamlessly, even when he didn’t want to.

“…Bee? You alright?”

Bumblebee snapped his helm up, settling back down after realising it was Alex who had spoken.

“Yeah, Alex, all good.” He lied, adding, “Carry on your uh- story.”

Alex hesitated but, after the bot gave him a small smile, carried as on nevertheless.

If Bumblebee had been more focused, he would have been witness to the worried glances shared between the two humans.

:::

Bumblebee couldn’t seem to shake off the ever-present feeling of dread which hung over him for the rest of the day.

It didn’t go away even when he excused himself from the Malto household, heading for the forest, where he experiences some time alone and peaceful silence.

He spent a long time there, if the inky-black sky littered with bright stars told him anything. It’s 3 in the morning, according to his internal clock.

Stretching, Bumblebee yawned. Maybe (hopefully) a short recharge would solve his dilemma. It could just be his processor suffering from the lack of rest from the last couple of days.

But, then again, it may not be ’just’ that.

Although he would be hesitant to admit to anyone, Bumblebee had definitely worked for much longer with less rest on worse days (apparently not something he should be proud of)

He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. The sense… that something is going to happen. Similar to the gut feeling you get when someone is watching you… without seeing you?

Bee’s muddled processor scrambled for theories and possible explanations, but it suddenly halted to a stop as his comm clicked on.

“Bumblebee, are you there?”

Quickly, he pressed a digit against the side of his helm, opening his link and replying, “Yeah, Optimus. I’m here. Something happen?”

“Nothing urgent, no need to worry. I just need you to scout out an area.” The Prime said, noticeably lowering his voice, “It has been under suspicion of being used as one of Dr. Meridian’s test areas, although it seems to be abandoned.”

Not him again.

“I will be sending Arcee to help you scout the area-“

Bee interrupted, “No need, Optimus. I’ll be fine doing it myself.”

The real reason he didn’t want to go with another bot is because he genuinely prefers to work alone. It may also be because he had spent a long time alone, but also because he’s much more efficient when by himself.

He loves his teammates, but he wants to be by himself for a while, if to just clear his thoughts.

“Are you sure, Bumblebee? It may be dangerous.”

“Yes, Optimus. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Bee replied, “Plus, although I hate to say it, I’d rather not bother Arcee, she’s probably busy- and you know she hates being distracted.”

Silence. Bingo.

“Look, Optimus. I know you’re worried, but I can handle myself, okay? If anything happens, I’ll make sure to call you.”

“…Fine.” Optimus relented, although his voice weighs down with bother.

“I’ll get going now, then. Anything else I gotta know?” Bumblebee asked, transforming into his alt mode as the location of the said base appeared on a map in his HUD.

“Not right now, but we’ll notify you if any more information is found.”

“Alright, thanks.” Bumblebee replies shortly, clicking off the link.

At least he had something to keep his mind busy for the time being.

Careful not to be too loud, he started up his engine, speeding along the road in the direction of the large, red pinpoint on his map.

:::

After around an hour of continuous driving, Bumblebee came to a stop outside an old building.

It looked like a cabin, one with crumbling bricks and scraps of rubbish laid strewn across the overgrown grass in the front garden. Concerningly, a large portion of the roof is blown inwards, as if it had been dented by a car (doubtful). Rotting wooden fences stood solemnly around the house, far too old to have been build recently.

Actually, the entire structure itself seemed ancient. Aside from the painfully obvious vulnerable state of the cabin, there was a general lack of care for the house overall.

Thinking that the location may have been wrong, or that it was a false alarm, the yellow mech lifted his servo to the side of his helm, planning to update Optimus.

click.

He froze.

That noise.

“Ah, look who we have here…”

The voice cut through his thoughts and Bumblebee found himself whipping around to face Dr. Meridian.

“Mandroid.” Anger oozed from Bee’s voice, just barely stopping the memories of their last meeting from ruining his composure.

“It’s Dr. Meridian, to you, bot.” He looks at the yellow scout, his eyes scanning him over as if he is no more than a lab rat under a microscope.

“What do you want.”

“Oh? I didn’t even do anything.”

“Cut the crap, Dr. Meridian.” Bumblebee responded, emphasising his words with a patronising voice.

The human’s smile fell, replaced with a scowl “They weren’t lying when they said you were a brat.”

“Real creative.” Bee said, bored.

Behind his snappy remarks, his processor worked overtime with questions: Who’s ‘they’? Why would he purposefully give away the location of one of his bases?

What does he want?

“Do you know the history of this place, perchance?”

What? “I don’t think so?”

Anger flashed behind Mandroid’s steely grey eyes, “Allow me to fill you in. This-“ he gestured to the house with his robot hand, “was the home to a lovely married couple. They had 2 children- isn’t that nice?”

Bumblebee narrowed his optics, confused.

”But, not too long ago, an Autobot battle took place. Right outside.”

Oh.

Bee’s optics widen slightly, realisation dawning on him as he looked back to the building. The blown-in roof. Remote area. Broken glass.

”Unfortunately, the husband injured his kneecap, immobilising him and leaving him paralysed in his left leg. His wife was heart-broken. His children were traumatised. Everything they had crumbled. Because of your kind.” Venom laced his words.

Bumblebee remembered this now. Jazz had been out patrolling. A Decepticon (whose name he couldn’t recall) ambushed him. Jazz wasn’t prepared, although he tried to keep the ‘Con away from the area. He didn’t mean for it to happen- not at all.

He had been thrown into what he described as a ‘hard, brick wall’. The roof. And the Decepticon fled. Jazz had been devastated for weeks after that.

He didn’t know what to do with the guilt. This all happened around a year ago. When the bot came round to visit, Bumblebee could still tell that the incident haunted him even now.

Cybertronians have long life spans, meaning a year on Earth to a human would be much longer than a year in a bot’s perspective.

Suddenly, Meridian’s grin came back; this time with sinister intent. Bumblebee’s memory replay faded away, his guard brought back up.

“I think we should stop stalling like this, don’t you?” The human asked before clapping his mismatched hands twice.

Before he could even open his mouth to respond, everything became brighter. Louder. Several messages displayed in red covers his HUD, painting his vision crimson. Bumblebee stumbled back slightly.

“-ou’ll be fine later…” Almost all sound filters through to him as gurgles, as if he was under water. Drowning.

Despite his vision being blurry and his limbs feeling like leed, he still managed to stay stood up, much the Meridian’s apparent surprise. His wicked grin only grows.

Blue cords crackling with electricity wrapped around Bumblebee’s chassis and arms, sapping his energy. Fighting hard against his restraints, his control over himself broke down rapidly as he thrashed wildly, desperate and confused.

His efforts drained the last of whatever energy he has left, helm rattling as he fell harshly to the ground.

”You will be the perfect asset.” Was the last thing the scout heard before everything around him went dark.

:::

“Where do you think Bee went?”

Thrash looked over to Mo, who sat next to him on the grass. She peered up at him, clearly bored.

”Probably on one of his super secret missions!” Twitch butted in, way too energetic for the morning.

”I wish he would tell us when he goes on his super secret missions, though.”

”Wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of it being a ‘super secret mission’?” Robby asked, an are you serious? expression on his face- one eyebrow raised, the other eye narrowed.

”Pretty much.” Hashtag joined in.

”Well!- ugh, you know what I meant!” Mo retaliated, playfully throwing a clump of hay at her older brother, who threw some back. Jawbreaker shuffled uncomfortably.

”I hope he’s okay…”

They all turned to JB, who flushed at the sudden attention, “I-I’m not trying to say he’s weak or anything! But… I just have a really bad feeling…”

”Awh, JB!” Hashtag embraced her brother, her other siblings joining the duo, forming a group hug. Even Nightshade swooped down from their spot in the tree above them to claim a spot.

”Bumblebee is strong, plus he has a whole Prime, ex-warlord, and the rest of the Autobots in case anything goes wrong!” She continued, reassurance evident in her voice.

”And us!” Twitch added in, Thrash nodding in agreement.

”Exactly!”

“We can decide a punishment for him when he comes back from his Super Secret Mission- all capitalised- for not telling us!” Mo announced, standing in front of the group, grinning ear-to-ear.

A chorus of cheers and laughter echoed from the siblings, as they exploded into excited chatter and games with each other once more.

Jawbreaker, although much better, still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling about the whole ordeal from his weary mind.

”JB! Are you gonna play Monopoly with us?” Robby questioned from his place in the circle, beckoning him over with his own paper money held out to him.

”I call the cat!” Mo announced, being met with shouts of protest.

They were right. Bee’s strong, stronger than anybody they had ever met.

He’ll be okay.

:::

Bumblebee’s optics snapped open, immediately shrinking painfully at the bright lights around him. An ear-splitting ringing ricocheted around the inside of his helm.

Blinking rapidly, Bee managed to regulate himself, slowing down his spark beat to its normal rhythm in less than a minute.

Once stabilised, he began observing himself and his surroundings.

The cold metal of the large operating table he was strapped down to caused him immense discomfort, his door-wings practically begging to be relieved of the over-whelming pressure caused by the tightened metal bounds which restricted him.

From what he could tell (mainly through touch and a few experimental tugs) he was strapped down by both wrists, ankles, waist, chassis, and even by a smaller one around his neck.

He wasn’t that dangerous.

Probably.

It was almost bearable, if anything. He can’t really move well, meaning Bumblebee was (unsurprisingly) stuck there.

Fortunately, he was able to move his head, discovered when rotating it from side to side. To his right, a table filled with an assortment of medical equipment sat with strange bottles and vials filled with randomly coloured liquids.

Well, they looked random at first glance. Zooming in on the labels to a couple of them, he could- just barely- make out the words ‘Cyber’ and ‘mixture’.

His energon ran cold.

’Caution’? ‘Experimentation’?

What… is all this..?

Just then, the distant sound of a door slamming caught his attention almost instantly. His horns pick up faint murmuring.

”…Stupid workers… always getting in my way…” Mandroid grumbled, though his demeanour changed from frustration to (fake) friendliness as soon as he set his blood-shot eyes on the bot on the operating table “Ah! The little sleeper is awake.”

The human’s statement is met with the scout’s glare, unsettling and silent.

”I’ve got to say, I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon.” Mandroid continued when he realised he wouldn’t get a response, walking casually toward the equipment table from before and setting something heavy down onto it.

Bumblebee’s optics tracked him suspiciously as the man walked around the table (around him).

”You were an affective fighter against my robots, I must praise you.” He said, his voice turned menacing, though not with anger, “You destroyed 12 and severely damaged 7 of the 20 soldiers I had brought with me! Quite the feat, wouldn’t you agree?”

”What are you trying to say?”

”Cutting straight to the point, I see! A desired quality of someone fit to work for me.”

”No.”

Mandroid stopped, “No?”

”I won’t join you.”

A moment of silence passed before shrill laughter bounced off the walls of the room they were in. “Who ever said you had a choice? Obviously, you wouldn’t join with me, so why not make you join me?”

Bumblebee, despite everything, rolled his optics, “What, bribery? Torture? Believe me, I’ve gone through enough of that to know it’s a pretty worthless method on me.”

Technically, it wasn’t a full lie. He still disliked pain, but he had learned from experience and managed to adapt himself to ignore the agony and only continue forward, much to the dismay of Ratchet, who ranted on and on about self-care and ‘listening to your physicality’- whatever that means.

On track, B.

”Oh, no, no! Of course not. That would be way too boring.” Wait, what?

Meridian must have seen the puzzled look on the scout’s face because he laughed again, this time only shortly.

”Tell me, comrade.” He spat out the last word, “Do you know what the most prized possession of a living, sentient being is?” 

Stall, even for a little. Bumblebee told himself mentally.

”Not really.”

“Expected.” Now, he stood right next to the table where Bee laid, hands clasped behind his back, “Let me enlighten you, the answer is ‘choice’ or ‘independence’. As in having the consciousness to have one’s own opinions and choose for themselves.

Now, answer me this: What do you think happens when one is stripped of that ability?”

Bumblebee began to connect the dots. His optics wide with disbelief. The realisation hit him like a truck.

Mind control.

“When I saw you fight in the ring, I saw how agile you are. How much strength you have. How you manage to calculate everything efficiently to control the outcome. How much potential you have.

But you never use it. Never fully. You know yourself how much more you can do, yet you never do it?”

Bumblebee froze. He hated to admit it, even if it wasn’t out loud, but he was right.

He always fought slower than he actually could. Always made sure to not use his numerous weapons hidden beneath his plating. Why?

His job was to incapacitate. Not kill. Never kill.

Bumblebee listened to the man expose him to an audience of nobody but him and his thoughts.

How?

How does he know?

Something was attached to the centre of his chasis. Over his Autobot insignia. A small, sticker-like item. It was black, dark black, an all-consuming black.

He heard Mandroid in the background heading back over to the equipment desk as his voice echoed throughout the room, “First, we have to remove all those god awful systems from your body.”

A whirring sound began abruptly, grinding down on Bumblebee’s already sensitive audials, making his breathing panicky and unstable.

”Actually, we might as well do both processes at the same time. It’ll save more time and more of my patience, after all.”

Walking back over, the half-human placed a slightly smaller contraption on him, this time on the side of his neck. Bumblebee tried desperately to move away, straining against the metal cuffs to no avail.

“Alright, everything is ready.”

Bumblebee didn’t know what’s happening, but whatever was going to happen, he didn’t want it to happen.

”Also, this might hurt a little.”

The last sentence was a last second warning, and before the bot could process it, the transformation commences.

His mind was being broken down, piece by piece, being burnt away and replaced with new, foreign material. It hurt. It was like his processor is bleeding. His limbs tensed and pulled against his binds, and his yells filled the space.

Electricity. He could hear it. Crackling. Laughing.

The pain got worse. It was like he was being burned alive, revived, and then burned alive again, in an endless cycle. The ceiling above him faded into a kaleidoscope of colours, his optics leaking lubricant continuously. Each shock sent a new wave of pain through him, the agony the only thing he could feel.

His screams weren’t heard by anybody but him and the monster that night.

…

Chapter Text

The comms link was silent. No call. No message. Nothing. Not since he had sent Bumblebee the location of the suspected base. That had happened over 5 hours ago.

Optimus kept throwing worried glances at the clock pinned up on one of the several stark white walls in the room he, Megatron, and Elita-1 were in. While the atmosphere was casual and friendly, Optimus’ worry only continued to grow as the time ticked on.

He was constantly checking his inboxes and private messages, hoping for some sign of Bumblebee being active. If he was able to, he would’ve manually called the scout himself, but it would be hard to verbally contact him in such an open area. Optimus’ optics pinpointed the numerous hidden cameras in the ceiling and situated in the high windows.

Any and all calls made from within GHOST, no matter how urgent, had to first be checked by a trusted personnel of the organisation, Agent Croft being the only one available to them.

Only when he wasn’t physically in the GHOST HQ was he able to call the scout.

Taking into consideration the fact that Bumblebee was still a wanted fugitive hiding from GHOST, it would have been nonsensical to even message him, let alone call him.

Not with there being GHOST at every corner.

Somewhere in the middle of Optimus’ internal ramble, two other bots had taken notice of his uncharacteristic silence.

”You okay there?” A deep, gruff voice questioned.

Blinking, Optimus looked up, his blue optics meeting the crimson ones which stared back at him.

Before Megatron could continue, another voice interrupted, “Yeah, Optimus. You’ve been quiet- which I usually would’ve loved- but…”

Elita-1 trailed off, an interrogative glance finishing the unanswered question.

“Uhm, it’s nothing to be concerned about.” Optimus lied, wincing internally when his reply was met with two identical glares.

”Uh huh…” The femme shared a look with the grey bot, before continuing, “Something happen?”

“I… hope not.”

Once again, two twin pairs of optics stared him down. Finally, one of them sighed.

”It’s about the scout, isn’t it?”

Startled, he turned his gaze to look at Megatron, who accepted the reaction as a sign that he was correct, “Thought so.”

”Wait- how did you-?”

”It was obvious.” Elita-1 spoke once again, “It’s not hard to connect the dots.”

”What dots-?”

”It’s a metaphor, Optimus.” Megatron deadpanned, amused at his cluelessness, “The scouting mission you sent Bumblebee on and the fact that you had been brooding even after giving him the green light to go investigate by himself.”

”We shouldn’t talk about-” Optimus started, but never got the chance to finish.

A loud bang shook the floor just before blaring alarms began wailing loudly, the surroundings painted in a blood red hue.

“Come on!” Elita yelled over the noise, already kicking down the door with a well-aimed kick.

The trio raced through the empty hallways, the same howling alert piercing through the air even as they burst through the exit doors to the battle site outside.

Countless waves of arachnamechs overflowed the field, their sheer amount of numbers overwhelming their limited man power.

Leaping into action, the Prime activated his axe, swiping at the enemies nearest to him while Megatron transformed his arm into a canon and shot at the ground, blasting away large groups of arachnamechs.

Although she was unused to fighting such small opponents, Elita-1 adapted quickly, effectively taking down swarms of them with ease.

”Where are they coming from!?” Megatron shouted, grunting as he flung multiple small mechs off his pedes.

”We don’t have time to deal with them individually.” Optimus instructed, “We must locate the source of them- and quickly!”

”On it.” Elita-1 transformed, swiftly driving through the masses, heading in the direction they seemed to come from.

Optimus and Megatron nodded to each other before continuing their onslaught on the creatures.

It was as if they were never-ending; wave after wave continuously generating despite their efforts to cut down and slash and shoot as many as they could before they overtook the GHOST base.

“Heads up!”

A bright blue current washed over the hoards causing the arachnamechs to glitch slightly before powering off, their bodies unmoving as if they were ragdolls.

Hashtag drove over the inanimate arachnamechs, clearing a path so that her siblings and parents could pass through easily.

“Optimus, Megatron!” Twitch flew over to them just as her parents clambered out their car.

Dorothy ran towards them, shouting, “What happened? And why are there so many arachnamechs?!”

”They’re called ‘Arachnamechs’?” A familiar voice asked, puzzled.

They turned to see Elita, Arcee, Wheeljack, and Grimmlock, who had all just arrived a moment ago. 

“Yeah.” Twitch was the one who answered Grimmlock’s questions, “Mandroid’s little minions.” She spat out the name.

”Who is… ‘Mandroid’?” Wheeljack asked, hesitant with the name.

Dot answered shortly, “Dr. Meridian. Again, what happened here?”

”We are unsure ourselves.” Optimus admitted, shaking his helm.

“They’re odd mechanics, I will say,” Wheeljack pondered, gesturing to the ground where hundreds of Arachnamechs lay silent and unmoving, “Even I took a while to figure out how to shut them off.”

That was when they all took notice of the device he had in his hand. It was shaped like a taser except larger and bulkier, clearly a last minute fix.

”Uhh… guys.” An uncertain voice called, but they weren’t heard amidst the conversation.

”That was you who shut them off?”

Wheeljack nodded, “Yes- I’m surprised it even worked. I had to counter their frequency to enable the power off, hence why it took a while to complete.”

“Where did you guys even come from?” Alex questioned, puzzled.

”Well, I had Arcee and Grimmlock here helping me with conducting some research with my drones further down when I noticed the commotion up here-“

”GUYS!”

Thrash’s panicked voice cut through their conversation.

”They’re moving?!” Hashtag screamed.

”What?”

Sure enough, the seemingly offline arachnamechs were scattering, crawling away from the group towards the forest.

Before they could all disappear into the thickly clustered trees, the last ones suddenly stopped and dismembered, their heads fell apart and their legs twisted off.

“Ugh!” Hashtag recoiled, backing up to stand with her siblings.

Dorothy was on guard, “What’s happening now?”

”Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The Maltos gasped collectively. Before the older bots could question anything, a figure emerged from the dense foliage.

Dr. Meridian’s eyes were red and sunken, his skin a pale white in comparison to his dark, greasy hair. His demeanour was casual, with his human and robotic arm both clasped behind his back.

”Mandroid.” Twitch whispered loud enough, making sure the bots could hear her.

”It seems like a fine day today, does it not?” The man walked forward, as if he was taking a stroll outside, “how have you all been?”

”What do you want, Dr. Meridian?” Optimus took charge, asking the question with purpose.

Mandroid tutted, disappointed, “You Autobots are all the same. Even the yellow one used to be more talkative.”

They stilled.

“‘Used to be’?” Elita-1 gritted out, servos clenching into fists, “What did you do to Bee?”

Hashtag stood deathly still, her vents becoming heavier and quicker.

“Well, aren’t you just nosy.” Mandroid’s grin became maniac, “Lets just say… I improved it.”

”He’s not an ‘it’!” Twitch yelled, her control snapping as she threw her twin swords toward the man.

Before they could hit the target, two bullets knocked both swords out of the air, causing them to clatter against the ground.

”What was that-?” Thrash stumbled.

”Guys…” JB’s voice wavered, taking a step back as the others turned to watch a silhouette emerge from the dense trees. 

Yellow horns. Slightly scratched door wings. A cannon emitting a strange whirring noise.

Shining, dark blue optics.

Bumblebee came to stand next to Meridian, his faceplates showing no sign of emotion or recognition as he faced his companions.

Although the sky was shrouded with dark clouds and whatever light they had was limited, they could all tell that he himself had been altered.

The most noticeable change was in his appearance.

A black battle mask covered the lower parts of his face. Dark blue stripes wound round his servos and forearms, the same pattern printed on his legs up to his knees.

His Autobot insignias had been replaced by a strange symbol; it seemed to resemble an arachnamech, azure being the colour of choice.

The Autobot blue was gone. In its place, a darker, foreign hue.

“Allow me to introduce to you all…” Mandroid announced gleefully, relishing in their defeated expressions.

“The new B-127- Hornet!”

Chapter Text

Hi!!! Author here (allo)

I used gacha life 2 (gl2) to attempt a visual representation of what Bumblebee/Hornet look like in this fic.

I can’t draw and I know I’m pretty bad at writing descriptions so I hope this will be okay (I put labels and annotations on the designs so that may help)

Remember: they ain’t canon to the show (mainly the normal Bee) so don’t come at me for that 😢 

bumblebee: https://pin.it/36FuyroER

Hornet: https://pin.it/6rN10NE6O

Trust me, I tried to input the images with the feature on here but it didn’t work 😭

Yes, it’s on Pinterest (idk if you need an account to see it (I hope not))

if that doesn’t work, search for me on Pinterest! It should be the newest 2 images posted under my pins!!

@sol_soll / Sol’s pinterest

The next chapter is still being written because I’m also writing multiple other fics on here (check them out :3)

While we’re here… if you guys want, I’ll start posting sneak peaks on tumblr::  Sol’s tumblr

leave a comment on the most recent post!!! (Say hello! and use the code word ‘Bee’ so I know this is where you’re coming from 😋)

Thank you for all the positive comments and kudos!!!!!! I LOVE YOUU ALLLL /pl

Thank you :>>

Chapter Text

Blue.

That was the one colour Bumblebee could see. Plain. Dark. Like a void. A bottomless void.

What happened? Where was he?

Who was he?

:::

”That isn’t his name!”

Twitch yelled, anger lacing her words.

”Oh, but it is now.” Mandroid countered, smiling with pure joy. Contempt, "This bot has no memory of you. Of anything. It is now mine to command.”

”We already told you, he’s not an ‘it’!” Mo yelled, fury burning in her dark brown eyes 

“Mhm.” Mandroid hummed, uninterested, “You’ll come to terms with it eventually.”

A message from Elita popped up on Optimus’ HUD, “His horn. Look at his right horn.”

Almost immediately, his optics locked onto a circular object wrapped around the base of Bee’s horn. Upon further observation, it resembled a crown; dark black in colour with navy blue gems embedded into the material.

”Could it be the controlling device?” Megatron messaged into a separate channel, including himself, Elita-1, and Optimus.

Before the prime could share his thoughts on the detail, Mandroid intercepted their silent conversation.

”My, this has gotten rather boring, wouldn’t you agree?” He snarled, but he narrowed his eyes with a grin, “Hornet, commence 7.0.”

“Affirmative.” Bumblebee spoke for the first time.

His tone was flat, sounding more electronic and robotic than any of them had ever heard it. It was unfamiliar. Unnatural.

“Move!” Megatron bellowed, shoving Optimus out of the way to just barely dodge the incoming barrage of daggers that had flew towards him with deadly precision the second before.

The weapons stabbed into the ground, landing mere inches away from the Malto family, though they also, thankfully, managed to scramble out of the way.

Bumblebee charged, heading towards Optimus with a sword wielded in each hand.

”Since when did he have swords?!” Twitch yelled, bewildered but curious despite the current situation.

Optimus activated his axe, swinging it in a defensive stance as Bumblebee slashed downwards with both swords, their respective weapons clashing together.

The prime shoved his arm forward, pushing back the scout.

Counter attacking, Bee swung his leg, connecting it with Optimus’ side, shocking him with the strength behind the blow.

Before the prime could even react, the scout’s legs were swept from under him by Elita-1. Skilfully, he landed on his hands, springing back up onto his feet in time to catch the punch aimed for his chasis.

Twisting, his hand rotated the femme’s fist, causing it the bend awkwardly and definitely unnaturally.

Gasping in pain, Elita-1 acted, planting a kick in Bee’s abdomen which caused him to falter slightly.

The scout backed away, turning to his enemies with calculating optics.

Both sides observed each other silently.

For a while, they were at a stand still.

Megatron and Elita were both in combat stances; the former with his cannon out and the latter in a battle posture, ready to pounce.

Arcee was behind them, stood in front of Wheeljack, who regarded the imminent fight with caution.

Optimus was at the very front, facing Bumblebee.

Seeing no alternative, he brought his axe in front of him, as if it was a shield, meeting Hornet’s Bumblebee’s cold gaze with his own blue optics.

“Aim to incapacitate, not to severely harm or destroy.” Optimus commanded into his comms, talking so that the opposing couldn’t hear, “Only injure when necessary.”

His words were met with grunts of agreement and verbal confirmations from the Autobots.

Unexpectedly, a blur of yellow and blue shot past them, heading straight for Arcee and her group.

The femme turned quickly, side stepping an uppercut before throwing a kick, aiming for the mech’s abdomen.

Immediately, a hand grabbed the incoming leg mid-air, pressing down slightly before throwing Arcee back, where she landed with a thud next to Wheeljack and the dinobot.

Wheeljack yelped in surprise as Bumblebee struck at him, clasping his exposed neck with one servo before easily chucking him onto the ground.

Seeing an opening, the dinobot transformed into his alt mode, locking his jaw around Bee’s lower arm and lifting him up, suspending him from the air.

“Got him!” Grimmlock muffled out, triumphant, however his victory was short lived as he let out a pained grunt, letting go of his captive.

In the area where Bumblebee had struck him prior, there was a large bruise, denting the metal.

“Mandroid- What did you do to Bee to make him so strong?!” Twitch demanded, confident in her belief that this strength and pure agility was nothing more than a side effect caused by whatever Meridian had done to Bumblebee.

”Me? Oh, no, no!” The man laughed, amusement in his blood-shot eyes, “What ever gave you the impression that I did something to enhance his physical capabilities?”

”What..?”

A loud bang interrupted Twitch’s mental spiral.

Once again, Bumblebee had been sent flying off his feet, this time stumbling slightly with his landing as he dug his heels into the ground.

A streak of bright blue flashed across Bumblebee’s optics, but it was gone in the next second as he readied himself for another round.

The scout’s navy blue optics found their objective almost instantly.

Shooting forward, he sprung over Megatron, hitting the ground on the other side. Using the momentary confusion, he jumped up, hitting the mech’s upper back with his legs, clearly aiming to push the larger bot down.

Instead of Megatron falling, he simply nudged forward, giving him enough time to spin round and aim his gun at Bumblebee.

Before Megatron could even activate the trigger to his cannon, Bee zipped away, returning to Mandroid’s side.

“Perfect.” The human said, and that’s when they realised something was wrong.

”What is this?!” Arcee yelled, attempting to pry something off her leg just as Wheeljack began to pull at the box-like object stuck to his neck.

The Terrans looked at the older bots, confused and worried.

”Optimus!” Robby called, pointing at the mech’s shoulder, “There’s something on you!”

Bewildered, the prime looked down, optics widening at the realisation that there was indeed something on him.

It was a darkly coloured device with intricate patterns and lines engraved on its surface. Spindly legs extended from the body, attached near the top of his shoulder blade.

It hadn’t been there before, that was for certain.

Something in Megatron’s mind clicked.

”This wasn’t meant to be a battle.” He stated with sudden understanding, “This was meant to be a distraction.”

Elita looked down at her lower arm, where the same device, but smaller, clung to her pink plating, akin to a parasite.

Megatron craned his head over his left shoulder, locating his own device clasped on his grey plating.

Even Grimmlock had a similar device, found on the side of his neck. Noticing this, the dinobot reared back, panic biting away at his rationality as flashbacks of his past experience chipped at the back of his mind.

“What are these, Meridia-“ Optimus began interrogatively, but his talking was cut off by a sharp needle of agony shooting through his frame.

The same happened to the other Autobots, pained groans filling the air.

”Ah, it seems to be working well.” Mandroid praised himself.

The Maltos rushed to the bots’ sides, nudging and trying to help them.

”Grimmlock?” JB shook the dinobot, shouting, “What’s happening?!” He looked up at his family, who were also in similar states of alarm.

“Why- won’t it- get- off!” Hashtag pulled desperately at the object attached to Elita-1, which began to glow a bright white colour.

”Because it doesn’t!” Mandroid tormented, “It’s specifically designed to stick to the surface, meaning attempting to move it can cause very serious injury. You could even rip out the plating.”

Hashtag dropped Elita’s arm in horror.

”What are you doing to them?” Dot barked, approaching Mandroid with a dangerous look on her face.

Before Dorothy could close the distant between her and the man, her path was blocked by a yellow and blue leg.

Bumblebee stared down at her, his chillingly blue eyes staring, unmoving, into her soul.

”Hostile behaviour detected.” Bumblebee reported shortly.

”It’s fine, Hornet.” Mandroid addressed to bot, turning his attention back toward Dot as the barricade moved back to its original position.

“Since you really wish to know, I might as well tell you.” Mandroid bragged, “I call them energon poachers.

In simple terms, they’re meant to drain a Cybertronian of their energon, and with it, their life force and energy.”

The Autobot’s began to pale slightly, their venting rapid and shallow.

”Mom! What do we do?!” Mo pleaded, her hold on Optimus’ open hand tightening with fear.

All of a sudden, there was a click, and the devices fell, their grasp on their victims vanishing.

”What?” Mandroid screeched, face pulled back in a scowl.

”Go.”

Bumblebee panted, gripping the side of his head, “I- managed to disable- the devices-“

”Bee!” Alex cried with relief, coming forward, but he stopped as the scout extended a hand in a stop motion.

”No.” He grit out, squeezing his dark blue optic shut as he looked down at them with his other, light blue optic, “Get- away from here-“

”Bumblebee?” Optimus whispered, staring at his son scout in clear confusion.

”Go!” Bumblebee yelled, cracking with static as Hornet’s electronic tone seeped into his voice, “Take- chance now- I can only- hold them back for a bit-“

”Who’s ‘them’?”

”No- time!” Bumblebee bit his words out, falling to one knee as he grunted with pain.

”We’ve got to go, come on!” Megatron yelled, already recovering from earlier, “He can only keep this up for a limited amount of time.”

”But-“ Arcee began, however she was cut off.

”He’s… right.” Elita agreed, she took a deep breath before continuing, “We’re not going to win against him anytime soon, especially now with our energy depleted.”

”Arachnamechs!” Mandroid shrieked, dragging their attention to him, “Secure Hornet-0 and capture them!” He pointed an electronic finger at the Autobots and Maltos.

Unexpectedly, another factor joined the fray.

Both parties looked up, several GHOST vans and helicopters flew towards their location, speeding up the road. With the Terrans and Bumblebee like this, it would be chaotic if they were caught.

Bumblebee, seeing this, looked up, deactivating his mask and revealing his lower face. There were swirly, blue patterns under his optics and, somehow, he had small fangs in his mouth.

”I’ll be- fine.” He smiled reassuringly, aware of the increased urgency of the situation.

Twitch didn’t want to leave their mentor- no, their brother- alone, not with Mandroid.

But, deep down, Twitch knew they were right.

They couldn’t do anything. She’d seen Bumblebee fight them. They were no match against him until they got together an actual plan.

And GHOST was coming. It wouldn’t help if they were caught now. Not with Bumblebee being in danger. Not with the Terrans painfully, obviously exposed.

So, with a heavy heart, Twitch allowed herself to be heralded away by her family.

Optimus transformed, Megatron fetching the trailer from the building and placing it on his cart.

JB hopped into the back while Dot and Alex climbed into the front, and Optimus led the way down another road in the opposite direction, going slow so that the younger bots could catch up.

The other Autobots transformed and, since his dinobot form wasn’t made for speed, Grimmlock hitched a ride on top of Optimus’ trailer, being too big to fit inside with JB.

Hashtag carried Robby and Mo, only setting off when the rest of her siblings were well ahead of her.

Together, they all fled the scene, leaving with everybody but one, single bot.

:::

Mandroid watched as the Maltos and the Autobots drove off, fury bubbling in his chest.

Bumblebee was now secure, the process being easier due to the bot’s fatigue from the initial struggle against Hornet’s control.

The scout had been bundled into one of his own GHOST trucks, and Mandroid ordered his arachnamechs to stay and attack the soon to arrive convoy.

He required a distraction to be able to get away with his soldier, and at that moment, his mind began racing with how he would make the control over Bumblebee even stronger.

Overpower. Overwhelm. That is what he needed to do to Bumblebee.

And he would make sure nothing like this would happen ever again.

Chapter Text

Groaning, Bumblebee awoke, helm pounding agonisingly as he opened his optics.

All around him was black. Like a void. Bottomless. It felt as if he was floating above an underwater trench, except he could do nothing but drift in the current.

However, as he looked down at himself, his optics widened when he saw the shackles on his arms and legs.

Translucent, navy blue chains extended from his wrists and ankles, weaving outwards before seeming to fragment and fade, disappearing into nothingness.

Of course, they were still there, a few experimental tugs told Bumblebee as much, but the sheer bizarreness of it only increased his headache, which throbbed painfully in the back of his processor.

Processor.

As quickly as he could manage, Bee opening the many files stored on his HUD, finally stopping on one marked as ‘memory files’.

If he could just open his records and access the most recent memories, he should be able to figure out what exactly had happened to lead him to his current predicament.

Even now, parts of his memory were coming back to him, though they didn’t piece together as perfectly as he’d liked them to.

People. Shouting. Blurs of red and blue and grey and pinks. A sharp, humourless laugh.

Meridian.

He recalled Dr. Meridian. Mandroid. The man with the robotic arm. The Cybertronian arm.

Speak of the Devil, and he shall arrive.

”You shouldn’t have managed to wake up yet…” Meridian’s cold voice snapped Bee back to reality.

Momentarily disoriented, the bot looked around, realising the- now obvious- change in his surroundings.

Instead of the dark, empty abyss Bumblebee found himself in previously, he was now in a semi-familiar setting, the operating table under him slightly larger than the one he was on the last time he had been conscious.

Craning his head to look down, he noticed that the dark blue chains which had held him seemingly only moments before were now nowhere to be found.

Was he just imagining things? Was he slowly turning schizophrenic? Maybe this was a sign that he should sleep more often…

Amidst Bumblebee’s spiral, the human glared at the yellow scout, annoyance practically radiating from his blunt eyes.

It had been hours. Hours. Since their last run-in with the Autobots, Meridian had been working tirelessly on developing Hornet into a stronger and much more competent virus to enable complete control over the Autobot scout.

He almost, almost, succeeded with the mind control the first time. The fight would’ve went according to plan if the fool hadn’t broken through the wall.

After a careful examination (which took over an hour) Meridian found multiple tiny fractures in the wall which kept B-127 under control, which was what led to the entire programme collapsing at the most inconvenient time.

He had only just gotten away from the Autobots and the Maltos, and GHOST as well.

Meridian felt foolish, running away and spending his energy on fleeing from his ‘allies’, but he knew that if it was uncovered that he and GHOST were working together, his advantage of free information and resources would have disappeared from his reach.

It was a close call, one which almost cost him his entire research and reputation within GHOST. That wench, Agent Croft, seemed to not fully trust him as much as he would have liked, and her impression of his abilities would be lowered because of the falter in his plans from before.

He would have to make sure something like that would never happen again.

His gaze shifted from the piles of notes and blueprints on his desk to the robot on the surgical table, a steely glint to his gaze.

”This should be the place.” Arcee said, looking up from the holographic map to the house in front of them, letting her hand rest on her hip.

Behind her, a hot pink vehicle arrived, the driver’s door opening to let out Dorothy, who climbed out just before Elita-1 transformed back to her bot form.

The house in front of them wasn’t in very good condition. From the overgrown vegetation and weeds to the desolate area they found themselves in, the doubt that was emanating from the group was undeniable.

”Are you sure this is the right area?” Wheeljack asked, uncertain.

”Well, WJ, if you looked at the map-“ Arcee shoved her forearm in front of Wheeljack’s face, showing off the holographic map, “Then yes, this is the right place.”

”Alright, both of you, calm down.” Elita-1 commanded, immediately bringing order to the two others bots. Her critical gaze swept over the general state of the building and the area around them.

Dorothy walked closer to the building, her dark brown eyes observing the structure as well, watching for any signs of collapse or damage.

”Building shows obvious signs of disrepair and decay, however the structure itself should hold.” Wheeljack provided, giving the clear for Dorothy to enter, since the doorway was designed for humans only.

Inside was a mess. Shards of glass, some tinged red at the sides, peppered the scraped, wooden floor. Ghosts of where paintings once hung on the walls lay bare, and empty bookshelves covered in layers of dust cast a dull, vacant shadow throughout the house.

The building was a two story, though the collapsed roof made it look much larger from the inside, in Dorothy’s opinion.

Carefully, Dot began searching the majority of the house, though she wasn’t able to go through to the second floor as it was inaccessible due to the damaged and unsafe state of the stairs.

She checked all the usual places: underneath loose floorboards, behind bookshelves, in the numerous wooden cabinets lining the kitchen wall, under dusty matts.

At some point during her search of what once must’ve been the living room, her robotic leg thunked against something which made a resounding metal noise.

Leaning down, Dorothy inspected the floor, gasping when she pulled back part of the rug to reveal cool metal hidden perfectly underneath.

Seams and thin lines trailed the surface, with scrapes and dents blistering the appearance.

What made her blood run cold though, was the symbol in the centre of the section she uncovered before.

An arachnamech with the GHOST logo plastered next to it.

The same arachnamech they had seen placed on Bumblebee.

Yanking her walkie talkie out of her belt, Dorothy called into her speaker, “Wheeljack, search the house for metal components or whatever.”

”Are you sure?” Wheeljack replied uncertainly, “Don’t think that’d make much of a difference-“

”No Wheeljack, just do it.” Elita-1 interrupted, sensing the urgency in Dot’s tone.

”Alright.”

A second later, Wheeljack’s voice crackled back onto the line, bewildered, “What in the Allspark…”

”What is it?” Arcee pushed.

Dorothy wasted no time going outside to where Wheeljack stood, his optics trained on the holographic diagram floating in front of him.

”It’s a… large metal structure, I think? I can’t tell what’s in it but I know that it’s large.” Wheeljack hurriedly explained, looking at the house with a sharp and critical eye, “There seems to be some sort of contraption which should open it, but the wires on the outside all connect up to the house. Somewhere on the house…”

He trailed off, his optics narrowing as he zoomed in on the house’s structure, picking apart the different layers, from insulation to electricity cables, before finally finding what he was searching for.

”Bingo.”

Wheeljack stepped forward, and with as much strength as he could use without them breaking, pulled 3 seemingly random, dead vines from a sea of slightly greener ones.

The ‘plants’ slipped out, revealing differently coloured wire which were pulled taut by the mech, before a click sounded.

Elita-1 picked Dorothy up just as the ground beneath them began the shake.

”Everybody, back away!” Elita-1 commanded, already coming to a stop much further away from the house.

”Is the house… moving?” Arcee’s voice was clear through the comms, and when Dot and Elita turned back to the building, they confirmed Arcee’s question.

The house was moving. At least, it was sliding to the side. After a couple more seconds of grating and grumbling, the house came to a stop, clouds of dust wafting throughout the air as the scene came into view.

“I guess the map really was right.” Arcee chirped, as thoroughly shocked as the other three, “Right?”

Dorothy ran up to the new opening, stopping at the edge to peer down the staircase into the darkness beyond.

”My scanners show that the mechanism has finished its… relocation.” Wheeljack offered, looking to Elita for further instruction.

The femme regarded the opening with caution, “Alright. Arcee, you stay guard at the back for any surprise attacks or security which may have been placed here. Wheeljack, continue your scans as we descend for changes in the area or movement, and Dot-“ Elita looked down to the human, holding out her servo for Dot to climb into, “It’s best you stick to higher ground.”

”Alright.” Dorothy replied, before stepping onto the open palm, bracing herself as she was lifted off the ground in front of Elita.

”Okay, team.” Elita-1 addressed her companions, determination in her voice, “Let’s see what we can find.”

It must’ve taken 2 or 3 minutes of careful walking before the squad arrived in the final destination.

Wheeljack gaped at their new surroundings, drinking in the sight. It was a fairly large area, impressive for something underground. All around them were items and boards and tools. It was disorganised though, with a thin layer of dust lying on the surface of the walls and bookshelves.

“Be cautious, team.” Elita-1 instructed tensely, noting the eerie silence that was present, “scout around. There must be something here we can use.”

However, Wheeljack was already running tests, “There seems to be leftover residue in these test tubes, but it’ll take a minute or so to figure out what exactly it is…” he gently waved an empty, cylindrical test tube at them before pulling down his visor and beginning his own tests.

“Hey, Elita.”

The bright pink femme turned to Arcee, who was crouched next to a large slab stationed in the centre of what looked to be the largest part of the underground lab. Elita’s optic caught on the thing Arcee was pointing to on the slab.

”What is that?”

A spill of dark blue liquid dribbled over the edge of the slab, creating a stark contrast to the metallic tinge, bright blue being left behind.

But that was the thing: Elita had seen that same blue somewhere before.

Her gaze shifted to the surface of the slab, the half finished jigsaw in her head piecing itself together slowly.

Glinting in the light, the slab beared many slashes and scratches, all which seemed to be new due to the lack of dust which settled there.

That wasn’t all though. Chips of yellow paint. Indents. Dried energon stains.

Something happened here. And, though she wanted to deny it, Elita knew what- or rather, who- was involved.

“My god…” Dorothy muttered under her breath as she took in the state of the room. ‘Disorganised’ was far too of an understatement when describing their surroundings.

‘Wrecked’ would be much better.

Shards of glass from broken test tubes strewn across the ground. Splatters of bright blue liquid. Bookshelves devoid of items. One single, flickering light bulb fitted into the high ceiling above where she stood.

Clearly, whoever was here Meridian was in a hurry, if the semi-hidden apparatus and beakers was anything to go by.

However she couldn’t halt the train of thought she found herself trundling down: this was the perfect base.

Sure, at the moment it was unkept and clearly a safety hazard (for a human, at least) but it was obvious that this was an impressive and well-kept place at some point.

Not everyone has a secret underground base, after all.

A small gasp came from the corner and all three of them turned to Wheeljack, who was staring, wide-eyed, at the result on one of his equipment, which was painted a deep red.

”This… this tube used to contain a liquid of very high radiation.” He reported nervously, “It’s hard to measure exactly how strong it is, but, from what I already know and from what my research tells me… this liquid had the same amount of chemical radiation as… X-Ergon.”

Arcee’s gaped, Elita’s movements faltered.

Dorothy blinked, confused.

”X-Ergon?” She tilted her head, looking back to Elita for answers.

“It’s a substance back of Cybertron.” Arcee answered instead, keeping her voice steady, “It, like Wheeljack said, contains very high levels of energy and power- but what is something even similar to that doing here on Earth? I thought the last batch disappeared after…” she trailed off, straightening up with a sick look on her face, which paled.

“Optimus got rid of the last batch, because it was being used for some… unethical things, unfortunately.” Wheeljack added, attempting to finish Arcee’s sentence, but frowned in confusion when Arcee shook her head.

”Yes and no…” She began, wary, “See, Optimus did technically get rid of it- worried about the sort of things that would happen should it fall into the wrong hands- but he did that here. On Earth. We didn’t have the storage or resources at first to safely store it ourselves-“

”So he gave it to those who could.” Elita-1 continued slowly, “GHOST?”

At the nod of Arcee’s head, the final part of the jigsaw piece clicked together, realisation settling into her spark once again.

”Are you implying that…”

”Not ‘implying’.” Arcee interrupted the human, “Saying.”