Chapter Text
ACT ONE: The Capture
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Bumblebee flinches.
“Can you sit still, kid?” Ratchet snaps, servo spread across the expanse of Bumblebee’s back plates. His fingers carefully return to where they were, squeezing between bright yellow metal and black protoform to feel at the small handle on the young bot’s neck. Ratchet nudges it again, which earns him another sharp jump.
Really, Bumblebee didn’t mean it. He knew how much Ratchet hated it when his patients pulled away from his touch when he was just trying to help, and Bumblebee knew that. But there was no getting used to this.
“Not my fault that stupid handle is sensitive!” Bumblebee scoffs, looking over his shoulder to glare at Ratchet, trying to wordlessly communicate the hopelessness of it all. “Can’t you just tear that thing off already? I’m sick of having to deal with it.” He reaches behind his neck, trying to get a feel for the handle himself only to have his servo swatted away.
The medic sighs, pulling his fingers back for a moment to let Bumblebee settle down. “I’ve told you that’s not how this works.” He says firmly, leaning over the yellow mech to try and catch his optics on his own. “Sparkling handles are connected to important circuits, if we rip it outta you you’ll be bleeding Energon all over this med-bay!” Ratchet could already feel the headache starting to form at the back of his optics at the simple thought of it.
Primus knows they didn’t have the proper supplies to deal with a mess that big. They barely had enough already.
With a groan, Bumblebee rubs at his plating, grazing against the handle almost anxiously. “...I just hate having to feel it being there.” He mutters, slouching into himself. “Like— what kinda bot at this stage still has their dumb sparkling handle?”
If Bumblebee had to recount all of the mortifying moments in his life, the team finding out about his dreaded handle had to be one of the worst things to happen to him, even if they had all reassured him it wasn’t anything to worry about. It was natural, and some bots that were older than him had it too, they said. Bumblebee wasn’t an idiot, he was aware that he wasn’t the only bot who had this issue, but nothing was going to dissipate the underlying discomfort of the simple fact that other bots were just...aware of it.
Made it even worse that the only way to get rid of the thing was to let the others actually grab it and use the damn thing , and it took a bit for Bumblebee to get over himself and allow them to hold onto him. Every time it happened, Bumblebee had to repeat to himself that another moment spent being held like a sparkling was leading up to the handle being permanently gone. This was just a momentary bit of humiliation.
Didn’t make it less embarrassing, though.
“Come on, kid.” Ratchet taps at Bumblebee’s back plates again. “I’ll give it a good shake and we’ll see how it’s going.”
Sliding off the examination table, Bumblebee forces his shoulders to relax and give enough space for Ratchet’s servo to slip around the handle. Holding back a squeak, the yellow bot screws his optics shut as the medic readjusts his grip before pulling hard enough to make Bumblebee stand on the tip of his pedes. Ratchet holds him there for a few nano-clicks.
There was a quiet creaking sound, and Ratchet’s voice was tinged with brightness as he spoke. “There we go! It’s already loosening up!” He says, setting Bumblebee down on the floor. “Keep up this pace and you’ll have this thing off in no time!”
Bumblebee feels his spark swell at that. “Oh, finally!” He places a servo on his chassis, relief surging through. As much as he hated having the team know about the handle, Bumblebee was glad that it meant that he had a way to get it off safely. “You think it’ll stick for a few deca-cycles?”
Ratchet places a servo against his chin in thought. “Well, we’ve been grabbing onto it a few times each cycle for about half the tour so...maybe another tour around the sector will do it.” Bumblebee couldn’t help but grin at the thought.
Just another ride around, and the handle would be gone!
“Alright, alright...cool it, bug bot.” Ratchet pats at Bumblebee’s shoulder plate, but a small curve was on the edge of his lips. “How about you go put that energy of yours to work, hm? Bulkhead’s back in storage sorting out our supplies, help him out, would you?”
Too excited to even complain about being given work, Bumblebee bounds towards the med-bay door. “Sure thing!” He quickly says before slipping out into the hallway. Jogging towards the back of the ship, Bumblebee stops as he passes by the ship’s navigation, a blur of red and blue catching his optics. He takes a few steps back, head leaning back to stare inside.
Optimus was standing in front of the comms, repeatedly pressing on a button with increasing confusion and frustration on his face. Bumblebee hums and tilts his helm, Optimus usually didn’t get that peeved when something seemingly small went wrong.
As quietly as he could, Bumblebee walks up to Optimus, looking over the comms as he does before settling his optics on the Prime. “Hey, Bossbot.” He greets, pulling Optimus’ attention away from the blinking buttons. “What’s up? What did the comm system do?” He jokes a little, which usually earns him a small smile in return, but Optimus simply shakes his head and returns his focus on the comms, that hard expression still set on his face.
“Nothing, it’s just...” Optimus pressed a button again, which turned out to be the one that hailed the docking crew back on Cybertron. “I’ve been trying to establish some contact back on Cybertron, tell them we’re gonna be landing soon, but I’ve got nothing on my end.”
“You think we’re still out of range?” Bumblebee offers, but Optimus shakes his head.
“No...the signal is perfectly fine, it’s more like...”
“They just aren’t answering?” The yellow bot supplies.
Optimus nods slowly. “Yeah, that.” But he quickly sighs and waves his servos dismissively. “It’s probably nothing to worry about though, they don’t always have to deal with returning space bridge crews.” He sighs, leaning against the console and tapping his fingers. Even when brushing things off, Optimus could never force himself to stop worrying and he probably didn’t know how obvious it was.
Looking up at Optimus’ thinking expression, Bumblebee nudges at the Prime with his pede to distract him. “Hey, you know...” The smaller mech starts, a grin playing on his mouth. “Ratchet told me my handle is gonna pop off soon.”
There’s a small curious noise that leaves Optimus, and his optics shine with interest. “Oh, yeah?” He raises a servo and gives Bumblebee’s back plates a few gentle knocks. “I guess carrying you around by the handle was worth it.”
Bumblebee rolls his optics. “Don’t even remind me of that.” He mutters, laying half of himself across the console. “Can’t believe that even Prowl started doing it too...I bet he just did it just to make fun of me.” He pouts, tucking his arms beneath his head as Optimus pats at his helm.
The ninja-bot was a weird mech if Bumblebee had to put it lightly. He didn’t talk much, wasn’t all too willing to work with the team for the first few cycles. Bumblebee didn’t quite know what to make of him, and it seemed like Prowl was trying his best to make himself as confusing as possible. Like a set of puzzle pieces that would scramble itself as soon as you figured out the perfect step to take.
It was infuriating most of the time, but Bumblebee could never make himself express that frustration when it was obvious Prowl was doing it not because he disliked any of them. But for some other weird, unknown reason that none of them had been able to crack open yet.
“Come on, Prowl cares... I think.” The Prime mumbles. “He’s just— different from us, and we didn’t exactly do him a great favor when we wrecked his ship.”
“Yeah, cares about his skinny aft more like—” Bumblebee starts, but he quickly stops himself when Optimus raises an optic ridge at him and quietly revs his engine. “I mean...uh, I should probably get to helping Bulkhead out! Ratchet’s gonna yell my audials off if he finds me in here!”
Optimus lets out a small vent of air, a sound that Bumblebee had come to learn as a laugh during their time together. “Oh, so you’re finally listening to Ratchet now?” He muses, and Bumblebee scoffs, bringing up that signature haughty demeanor of his.
“Hey, give me some credit! I’m a hard working bot, and I do my part!” He shoots back.
But the Prime just crosses his arms. “Yes, you do your work, after some arguing that is.” He places his servos on the yellow bot’s shoulder plates and nudges him towards the door. “Now get to it, as you said; we wouldn’t want Ratchet yelling at you now would we?”
Deliberately dragging his pedes against the floor, Bumblebee slumps his frame exaggeratedly as he walks out. “Yeah, whatever you say, Bossbot!” He calls out as he gives a lazy wave to the Prime, stepping back into the ship’s long hallway.
Going back to his original task, Bumblebee walks to the storage door, tapping on the access panel before stepping inside. Bulkhead wasn’t hard to spot, even with how big the crates were, he towered over most of them. The big bot was currently hefting some of the heavier crates to the side and carefully sorting them by which ones were empty and which ones weren’t. Bumblebee quietly came up behind him and hopped up onto his back plates.
“Hey, Bulk!” He greets, and Bulkhead doesn’t even startle as he turns his head to face his friend. “Need some help?”
Bulkhead brightens up. “Oh! Hey, little buddy!” He gently holds a servo out for Bumblebee to safely step down on, which the smaller bot easily does. “And well, can you get over there and get some of the smaller crates? I haven’t sorted all of those out yet.” He points to a set of smaller crates tucked into a corner.
Looking to where Bulkhead pointed, Bumblebee walks up to the pile and looks at them curiously. He didn’t spend much of his time here in the storage room, not when Bulkhead was the best mech for lifting them up and moving them around. Picking up one of the smaller crates first, Bumblebee almost loses his breath as he feels the sheer weight of it. It was a wonder how Bulkhead could carry this stuff so easily, and this was one of the small crates.
“Jeez! What’s in these things, anyway?” Bumblebee gasps out, slowly moving to where Bulkhead was to set it down beside him.
Bulkhead laughs at Bumblebee’s panting before sliding the crate towards himself. “It’s mostly just replacement parts for the space bridges.” He says, lifting the lid to reveal a stack of circuit boards. “Be careful with them, by the way, they say you have to pay for it when you break even a single one.”
Grimacing at that fact, Bumblebee walks back to the pile of crates and grabs another one, taking in a deep vent this time before he lifts it from the floor. But as he straightened himself out before he caught sight of a bright blue visor right in front of his face. Bumblebee let out a high-pitched yelp, the crate causing him to lose his balance before Prowl grabbed at the other end to stabilize the yellow mech.
Bumblebee lets out a quiet sigh before glaring up at the other bot. “Watch it!” He yells, and Prowl simply pulls his support away to leave Bumblebee whining at the loss. “...Ugh! You are such a—!”
Carefully, the crate was taken out of Bumblebee’s grip before it could end in disaster. Bulkhead gently places it down onto the floor, giving his friend a gentle bonk on his side to balance him. “I didn’t know you liked hanging around here, Prowl...” Bulkhead comments while Bumblebee rolls his aching joints. “You look worried.”
There was absolutely nothing that indicated that Prowl was worried. In fact, Bumblebee found it very hard to read the bot’s emotions most of the time, especially since he acted as if he was a piece of cardboard brought to life.
Prowl gestures towards one of the many windows lining the walls. Cybertron was in full view now. “Don’t you feel a little strange? About Cybertron?” He asks, which makes Bumblebee stare at him incredulously while Bulkhead simply looks confused. “I mean, I hope you noticed that they haven’t come in to even ask for a report recently.” He walks up to one of the windows and stares out of it, and Bumblebee can’t help but look past him and focus on Cybertron growing closer and closer.
As much as Bumblebee hated to admit it, Prowl was right now that he thought hard about it. Even if they weren’t being asked for a report, sometimes Sentinel would bug them (and by them, it usually meant Optimus specifically).
Did something happen back home? But if something did...wouldn’t they have been notified by now?
“It just doesn’t feel right.” Prowl mutters, his voice filling up the silence and Bumblebee frowns. He walks up to the taller bot and smacks a heavy servo against his back, it was hard enough that Prowl actually sputters from the force, taken aback. When the ninja-bot straightens himself out, he looked like he was going to tell the younger bot off before Bumblebee beat him to it.
“You’re just getting the jitters after not being home for so long!” Bumblebee says, and Bulkhead nods behind him. “After we land, I’ll be your personal guide around, yeah? I bet you haven’t seen the place in ages! And I don’t trust you to do anything fun if you do it yourself.”
Prowl stares blankly at Bumblebee, mouth slightly ajar in surprise. “You...” He tries to say something, only to settle with just looking away from Bumblebee and grunting, which was victory enough in the yellow bot’s optics. It might have been hard to get a read on Prowl, but that didn’t mean that Bumblebee didn’t want to build some sort of rapport with the mech.
Like it or not, Prowl had joined their team.
The ship gave a little rumble, and the three bots stared outside the window to see that they were on the last stretch of finally coming back home. Bumblebee swept a glance at Prowl again, only to find that the bot had a certain stiffness in his movements, and Bumblebee couldn’t help but feel unsettled at the genuine worry that seemed to edge the other bot’s mood. It seems like his attempt at reassurance hadn’t worked all too well as he thought.
Eventually, the ship entered Cybertron’s fields. Still, Optimus hadn’t got any word from the other side, but it didn’t matter all too much now that they were about to land. All five bots settled around the entrance, waiting for the ship to settle down onto the dock. With a loud creak and hiss, they were officially back home. The main door clicks open as Ratchet punches in the command on the side consoles and...
It was quiet.
Bumblebee peeks his head out. The docking bay was completely silent, which was weird. Usually the place would be bustling no matter what time it was, other space bridge crews running about and glad to be back home, discussing what they’d do before they would eventually return to their duties. But there was none of that, even the bots working around the dock were gone.
Something heavy slithered into Bumblebee’s spark, and he looked up at Optimus, who had taken a few steps out to stand beside the smaller bot.
“Where is everybody?” Bumblebee asks, mostly to himself. He could feel the trepidation ripple throughout the team like waves, and it made him swallow down the dryness on his glossa. Bumblebee dares himself to step out completely.
It was silent enough that his usually quiet footsteps seemed deafening in the face of complete emptiness. Optimus mutters something beside Bumblebee, and the bot notices that he’d been tapping into his comm this whole time, trying to get into contact with someone.
“Nothing?” Ratchet asks and Optimus begrudgingly nods. “Slag, I’ve got no one on my end too.” The medic clicks his glossa.
Bulkhead quietly settles beside Bumblebee, servos clasped together almost nervously. “Maybe...maybe something did happen? Maybe everyone evacuated somewhere...” He offers, and the rest of the team hums in thought. That could have been what happened but...they all knew that something was genuinely wrong. It felt suffocating, stifling in a way that made them all want to retreat back into the Orion and fly back into space.
Cybertron had never felt like this before.
Creak.
“Bumblebee!” Prowl suddenly yells, and Bumblebee gasps as he’s suddenly shoved down onto the ground, the sound of blaster fire bouncing off steel piercing the once endless silence of the docking bay. Prowl stared up at the dark space above the ship, one of his stars was gripped tight in his servos as he protectively kneels over the yellow bot.
The rest of the team stare up at the darkness now. Optimus had taken out his axe, optics sharp with focus.
Then, a rumbling chuckle fills the air, and a pair of red optics light up in the shadows before a single pede steps out, revealing a tall, hulking bot. The sharp edges of his armor glinted in what little light the docking bay provided. But that all wasn’t what the team noticed first. It was not the dangerous look in the mech’s optics, nor was it the peek of a canine through his lips.
Instead, every single bot brought their optics past the mech’s shoulders and onto the pair of wings set upon his back, held high and dangerous.
Decepticon!
“Hey, there.” The seeker purrs, looming over them all as he stands on the edge of the Orion.
Prowl moves first, throwing a star at the seeker before grabbing Bumblebee and practically dragging him up and away to make him stand on his two pedes. The smaller bot blinks his optics a few times before letting his stingers out and ready, crackling with blue light.
What was a Decepticon doing here? Haven’t Decepticons been gone ever since the war ended?
All of these questions rushed through Bumblebee’s processor, but they were all swept away as the war mech suddenly moved, stepping off the edge of the Orion. The Decepticon drops down from the ship with a laugh, sweeping a leg across the air and towards Optimus. The Prime grits his teeth, just barely lifting his axe fast enough to block the blow. The sounds of creaking and metal against metal screeched across their audials, and the noise of the seeker cackling like mad joins the clamor.
It was all like a game to this mech.
“Ooh! You actually blocked me! Now that’s a first for an Autobot!” The Decepticon teases before Optimus pulls his axe away to swipe at him, but all the blade met was air before he’s suddenly shot with blaster fire straight to the chest. The Prime slides back a few feet across the ground, red flecks of paint left behind. Bumblebee gasps, rushing past Prowl to come to Optimus’ aid.
“Bossbot!” Bumblebee drops to his knees, servos hovering over Optimus scuffed chassis as he slowly lifts his head to glare at the seeker. The Decepticon settles his gaze on the Prime, then to Bumblebee. Red optics suddenly laser-focused on the yellow bot, the mini-bot shudders as that smile on the big mech’s face turns into a tooth-filled sneer.
The Decepticon takes one heavy step before Prowl suddenly pounces on him, latching onto his shoulder plates and wrapping an arm around his throat from behind. The seeker screams angrily, jets violently bursting with flames as he flies up into the air in an attempt to throw the black and gold mech off him.
“Get off you puny Autobot!” The seeker screeches, clawed servos finally grabbing hold of Prowl and throwing him off. The ninja-bot grunts, catching himself as his pedes carefully slid against the ground. The joy on the Decepticon’s face had dropped, replaced with an almost annoyed fury as he stared down at the repair bots.
Bumblebee places a servo beside the still hot cracks along Optimus’ chassis. “Frag, frag ...are you okay, Bossbot?” He asks worriedly, his voice small as he looks over the shattered glass and bent metal. The Prime grunts, grabbing hold of the smaller bot’s servo as he attempts to lift himself up, but all it did was make a few sparks emit from the new wound. Bumblebee bites at his lip.
“Guys—!” Bumblebee starts, but his words are cut off by the sound of blaster fire.
“Bumblebee! Get Optimus out of here!” Ratchet’s voice says in between the sharp sound of a blade hitting hard armor plating. “We’ll catch up with you later!”
“But...!”
“We’ve got this handled, little buddy! Take Prime somewhere safe!” Bulkhead calls out right before Prowl’s body is flung right into him. Bumblebee gulps, staring at the rest of the team and then back to Optimus.
Hesitation sinks deep into Bumblebee, and he flits his optics between the team and Optimus.
With a deep vent, Bumblebee grabs hold of the Prime as best he can and hefts him up. “Optimus, can you walk? You gotta help me out here, Bossbot.” He pants, and Optimus thankfully moves his pedes as the younger bot practically drags him towards another part of the docking bay.
Discreetly slipping inside one of the more closed and quiet parts, Bumblebee blinks his optics at the darkness that surrounded the place. There didn’t seem to be any lights on, even the consoles were shut off. The place really did seem abandoned, and there were still datapads stacked up on some of the desks, chairs slid back from consoles as if everyone had just decided to get up and run out.
It was almost impossible to navigate the mess, but it wasn’t hard to find a place for Bumblebee to set Optimus down. It was a small storage closet of some kind, which made it kinda cramped, but the yellow bot could care less.
Leaning the Prime against the wall, Bumblebee rummages into whatever was left inside of the closet, taking out whatever could be useful to help Optimus out with his wounds.
“Bee...” Optimus rumbles, and the other bot simply hums in acknowledgment. “Bee, stop...”
Bumblebee snapped his head up, turning to look at Optimus. What he’d said was so absurd Bumblebee actually felt the urge to get mad at him for it. “No, no, and no, I already know what you’re gonna say.” He says, his words biting into the air. “You’re hurt, and you need someone to look after you, the team is gonna deal with that Con while you stay put.”
Optimus might have been a Prime, but Bumblebee had known that he could be a little stupid sometimes too. Shaking his head, the young bot stands up, looking over the useless junk that he’d dug out. Nothing that could help Optimus was in here.
“I’m gonna head out.” Bumblebee says, which rouses Optimus from the quiet stillness that he had formed against the wall. The Prime was trying to make himself stand, but the aches on his chest quickly bloomed farther across his body as he attempted to move, and he slumped back down with a frustrated groan. Bumblebee almost felt guilty looking at him.
“It’s dangerous, you don’t know how many Cons are out there! Just because that one seeker showed himself doesn’t mean he’s alone.” Optimus argues, the strict tone his voice laced with deep worry.
But Bumblebee wasn’t deterred. “Yeah, and you’re leaking energon.” He points out, and the Prime stiffens before looking down at himself. He was, in fact, leaking energon. So much that it had trailed down his waist and pooled beside his hip.
“Bee, please.” Optimus didn’t bother trying to exert his authority now, he really was just teeming with concern for the smaller mech. Admittedly, Bumblebee didn’t want to go out, he was horrified. He knew that what Optimus was saying was right, and that he was stepping right into dangerous territory, but...
Someone had to step out and get the stuff Optimus needed, and there was no one else. So, Bumblebee didn’t bother replying, he just set his servo on the handle of the door, the only barrier between him and whatever laid outside.
The handle clicks open, and Bumblebee takes in a shaky vent—
A clawed servo closes around his neck.
Bumblebee didn’t even have the time to let out a terrified noise before he’s lifted up from the floor and pulled out of the closet. His small servos moved rapidly to scratch at the fingers closed around his throat, but they were like a vice, tight and unyielding. It was the seeker again, the mini-bot realizes after blinking away the blurriness in his optics.
The war mech tilts his head from side to side, studying the little bot. “Hm, yellow plates...mini-bot...horns...” He mumbles to himself, as if he was checking off a mental list. “You must be the one.” He adds with a mischievous gleam in his bright red optics, those deadly claws digging deep enough to slip past the hard plating around the smaller bot’s neck, scratching at the protoform below.
As Bumblebee manages to shoot a glare at the seeker, the bright glow of Optimus’ axe suddenly swoops down, gouging the Decepticon’s back pretty good based on the horrible scream that tears through him, so loud that it bounces off the walls. Bumblebee is dropped onto the floor, coughing as the tightness around his neck settles into a dull ache.
“You little—!” The seeker is cut off as Optimus uses the handle of his axe to choke the war mech out. The Decepticon thrashes like a caged animal, slamming himself against the walls just to try and get the Prime off his back. The jets on his pedes suddenly come to life, and the seeker propels himself backwards to slam Optimus against the wall. Still, it wasn’t quiet enough to make the Prime let go, so he did it again and again with increasing force, so hard that it was almost like he was going to take the whole building down.
Bumblebee swallows down the pain in his throat, watching with growing panic as Optimus visibly grows weaker from every harsh slam that rattles his frame, energon trailing down one of his legs.
With a hiss, Bumblebee lets out of his stingers, feeling it charge with energy.
“Leave Optimus alone!” Bumblebee yells, picking himself up before shooting an arc of electricity at the seeker. The shot cracks through the space between them before connecting straight into the seeker’s side, making the Decepticon grit his teeth and struggle with renewed fervor. The jets on his pedes suddenly grow brighter, bringing him up higher and faster—
And he crashes Optimus up against the ceiling. Bumblebee lets out a shuddering gasp as he hears the Prime scream out in pain, his grip on the war mech loosening before he falls to the floor with a loud clunk. The mini-bot feels his fuel tanks flip inside him, optics widening in shock and fear at the sight of Optimus completely still on the floor.
He scrambles to his feet, forgetting the seeker for now to check up on the Prime. But before he could even take two steps, a shot rings out, and Bumblebee feels one of his pedes give up from beneath him, and he falls forward and right onto his face. Then, in this momentary point of stillness, the pain registers. Bumblebee whines as he lifts his aching helm up to stare down at himself. One of his pedes had been shot, shattering the plating and whatever sensitive wires and circuits that had been running beneath it.
The sound of the Decepticon’s steps grow louder, and Bumblebee forces himself to look, the wash of anger quickly replaced by fear as the mech’s difference in height and size was emphasized now that he was on the ground.
“Tch ...you repair bots were a lot more trouble than I expected, Shockwave owes me one for this.” The seeker rolls his optics, leaning down slightly to look at Bumblebee up and down. “I don’t know what he wants with you, but I don’t care enough to bug him about it.”
A thought invades the smaller bot’s processor. If the seeker was here...then what of the rest of the team? Bumblebee feels an ache around his optics, knowing that it was coolant welling up, but he refused to cry in front of a Con. He lets out a wheezing sound, trying to speak through the horrible prickling in his throat.
“M...my team...” He manages to mutter, and the Decepticon looks amused at his attempt.
“Your team? You mean those other little repair bots?” The war mech chuckles. “Why don’t you guess?”
Bumblebee grits his teeth, servos clenching against the floor. All of a sudden, the pain all fades away into the back of his mind, replaced with something burning and searing deep into his spark. He stares up and straight into the seeker’s optics, relishing in the slight surprise that crosses in them.
“Frag you.” Bumblebee spits out, wrenched from the tip of his glossa and forced through his tightly clenched teeth.
The war mech tilts his head, something beyond amusement glimmering beneath the cruelty in his stare. “I’m starting to get why Shockwave asked for you specifically.” He moves back into his towering height, uncaring for the scuffs and wounds that he’d gained from fighting off both Optimus and Bumblebee.
With that, the Decepticon lifts a balled servo up and promptly slams it hard against Bumblebee’s helm, hard enough that it instantly drags the yellow mini-bot into complete darkness.