Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Slagged. It was all slagged to bits. As yet another clone signal disappeared off the tracker, the hope of these malfunctions doing anything of use disappeared together with it. Yet another plan completely slagged.

She punched the console in anger, wishing she had anyone at all to yell at but herself. Kicking her own chair into the wall, she screamed obscenities at no one in particular, and with a deafening echo reflecting off the empty walls, no one in particular was there to reply.

No matter. She stomped down the hallway of the crashed and abandoned Nemesis, wrecking her processor trying to come up with a new plan. With her claws, she gently caressed the wall by her side, thinking back on all those stellar cycles of wanting nothing more than to own this place. And now that she does, why doesn't it bring the satisfaction and power she thought it would? Her hand curled, the claws digging into the metal of the ship and leaving long marks with a loud screech.

The screech echoed too, just like the screams.

Because now it's a scrapload of useless metal, that's why. She never wanted to own the ship itself. It was merely a symbol of the leadership that she was ACTUALLY after. But that doesn't mean that she can't make the best of what she has to work with. If she salvages some of the parts, she could repurpose the ship's weapons for personal use. Yes, that's the plan! Recalibrate the lazers, reclaim the All-Spark fragments from the failed disappointments, and this whole place could turn into an orbital obliterator!

A giddy smirk creeped back onto her face, but her mood was not going to stay good for long. Approaching the engine block, she looked up and down at the torn-up state it was in, the plating grotesquely twisted and melted, and surface dust already seeping into the crevices of the machinery. Right: this was going to be a lot of work. To do all alone. On her own. With no one around to speed up the process.

Alone.

How long had it been? Bumblebee wondered, but he couldn’t come to a conclusion. It seemed like the wide expanse of the galaxy was spinning all around him, threatening to swallow him whole, and he was so, so dizzy. Optics blurry and unfocused, at the point he didn’t even know what he was looking at. 

Which brought him back to his previous question - how long had it been, since he first disappeared from Earth? Since he first stowed away on Sentinel Prime’s huge Elite Guard ship? Since he had been discovered, captured, imprisoned, and then cast out into the abyss like some, I don’t know, trash? Had it been cycles, or perhaps megacycles, or, worse yet, solar cycles? Having been looking at the same wide expanse for so long, floating aimlessly through space, he’d lost count of how long it had been - well, it wasn’t like he’d been counting in the first place, anyway. But still, now, he was floating through space. Alone. 

…Forgotten?

No, he couldn’t think like that. What a stupid thought to cross his processor, completely unprompted and absolutely without any legs to stand on- probably as Sari would have put it. Sari… was she worried about him? Bumblebee was worried about her… But, back to the matter at hand. He just couldn’t afford to even ponder the fact about whether or not he’d forgotten about, because that would be impossible, because he’s a great and valued member of the team, and they absolutely could not afford to forget about him because he’s an amazing asset and friend and bot overall. 

Anxiously and subconsciously, Bumblebee found he was hugging himself. He didn’t know when this had happened but he took his servos down from his arms and finally, optics focusing, looked at them. 

This had been a really, really bad idea. He’d wanted to do something so cool and helpful and incredible so that everyone would be proud of him and celebrate him for the rest of time. He could’ve gotten the credit for taking down whatever shady things Sentinel had been up to and hey, maybe he’d be like, officially and awesomely recognised or something. For how cool and brave he was. 

The void beyond was almost welcoming now. He could see stars and distant planets and debris if he tried hard enough to look. Maybe this wasn’t all that bad, being up here, alone, with his thoughts, all alone, with no one finding him and certainly no one looking for him. Alone. 

Bumblebee was almost at peace with it all when, by some miracle, he sensed something was wrong. He opened his optics, having shut them either megacycles ago or just now, and all of a sudden, there was the Moon. Straining and craning his neck to look behind him, there was the Earth. Maybe not all hope was lost! Maybe he’d crash back down and probably be beyond repair but at least he’d be back! And they could find him! Bulkhead, and Prowl, and Ratchet, and Bossbot, they weren’t far after all! Maybe his commlink would pick up a signal or something, surely with the Earth’s human-made satellites around, and they could contact him! He could pick up a signal and send out an SOS, get help, and get home!

That was when he started to notice something else that was now in his peripheral vision, something familiar and quickly increasing in size. This was when Bumblebee turned back around to face the Moon. He didn’t think the Earth’s moon could do that…? Could… grow? 

Then he felt the very first gravitational pull, tugging him into orbit, and he realised…

“Oh, slag.”

Down and down and down went the yellow Autobot, crashing towards the dusty grey surface of the Moon, trying something, anything to try escape the gravity of the natural, rocky satellite, which, although it wasn’t as strong as the green and blue planet’s, was still quite very strong. 

“Nononnononono,” panicked Bumblebee, seeing his fate written plainly in front of him and getting much, much, closer, and imminent, and impending, and, woah, was it hot in here, or was it just him? Flailing intelligently in the air the bot prayed to something, anything, everything, that maybe he would survive, and maybe he could make it back to Sari and Bossbot and Prowl and Bulkhead and Ratchet, and Captain Fanzone, and Isaac Sumdac, and anybody else that remembered him. 

As a last ditch effort, Bumblebee tucked up tight into a ball, servos holding his legs tight to his chassis, hoping his crash landing wouldn’t be too painful, maybe? He braced for impact.

And there was impact, alright. It was safe to say that the Moon had gained another crater after this, a very Bumblebee-sized crater. Dust and rocks flew everywhere. 

It’s such a shame that the Moon’s entirely unpopulated…

Right?

Normally, Starscream wouldn't even react to something like a meteor hitting the planet in the distance. Judging by the numerous craters around, this was just one of those worlds where space junk would land and leave a mark all the time. But the problem was that it WASN'T in the distance - the impact was basically at her front porch, and if the sudden explosion-like sound wasn't enough to get her attention, the panicked screaming sure was.

Despite the annoyance, in the back of her mind she was relieved to have a distraction. Theories of what this might be were far and wide, but once she approached the crater, what she didn't expect was to find a bot, curled up and damaged, clearly, but still alive, owing to this planet's low gravity. 

They're sending this after her now? Surely this one has got to be after her. But the scrawny physique, the pathetically beaten up state, and the general sounds of anguish coming from it were not succeeding in instilling any sort of fear, for sure.

Taking a few steps even closer, she tuned her scanners on this unforseen guest, only to recoil in disgust. The Autobot energy signature. One of those pesky Earth scouts, yet somehow here in space. Suspiscious for sure, but she could always find out the details later after it's dead.

She picked up the disoriented looking visitor by the scruff, put her gun up to his head and readied up for a blast. "WHAT DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU MISERABLE GLITCHES TO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?! TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE HERE FOR OR I'LL SHOOT!”

Bumblebee seemed to have slightly recovered, having laid in his crumpled ball for a couple minutes now. But not really, on second glance. There were some pretty pathetic sounds coming from his intake, a mix of whimpering and cries and general anguish, and his optics had been closed so tight it was almost as if they’d been welded shut. Which, considering the fact he had just crash landed at a decent rate, wouldn’t be all that surprising.

He was just about to try and recollect himself, having finally noticed he was miraculously alive and had probably misjudged the power of the Moon, when he heard footsteps approaching, and he grew incredibly alarmed. What? Who? What? Why? How? 

And then he was being picked up, wherein he yelped in surprise, shock, fear, all of the above really. And then there was a gun being held to the side of his face plate, which made him flinch and strain away as best he could from his captor’s grasp and deadly weapon. 

“Please please no,” he cried, obviously not registering Starscream’s threat to his livelihood, or any of the words she said at all in fact. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come here, I was just trying to see what Sentinel was doing, and he kicked me out into space, and I’ve been floating around ever since, and it’d been so long, and I just wanna go back, pleasedon’tkillme,” rambled Bumblebee quickly, his words jumbling together and slurring and all the rest because he’d only just remembered how to speak, and hadn’t remembered he was alive yet. His optics were still screwed shut, a pathetically miserable and terrified expression on his features. If Starscream had caught him in any other situation or at any other moment he would definitely have been way more confident and cool and collected and not at all in a very vulnerable and petrified state. 

The smaller bot couldn’t decide whether to hang limp or scrunch up into a ball again, so it just led to him shaking quite animatedly as his body fought to do one or the other.  

“Don’twannadie,” mumbled Bumblebee weakly. 

“Don’tshoot,” 

he finally added, as her final words had now at long last registered in his mind, as well as the fact that there was a gun pressed to his temple had set in.

She hesitated.

Not because she felt pity or anything, that emotion had long atrophied by now. But because right behind her, a giant engine needed lots of hard manual work, and right in front of her was an easily terrified and seemingly abandoned Autobot. One didn't have to be a genius like her to put the two and two together.

"Sentinel?" Her optics narrowed. "Kicked you out into space?"

She lowered her gun.

"So you're saying you're all alone here? Are you some sort of fugitive or what?" She shook the new guy around impatiently. If he was kicked out, manual work as such was all he would probably be useful for, but having someone that the Autobots trust would be immensely beneficial too. Sentinel Prime was a name she was far more familiar with, even despite being out of the loop on the Autobot internal politics for the past 50-60 stellar cycles. And as of late, him snooping around this sector has been causing her nothing but trouble, with the latest of her clones being taken out directly by him less than even a megacycle ago.

Getting the All-Spark fragments back from Sentinel would be the pipe dream, and if this Autobot was enemies with him, then even if he's a wanted criminal, their motivations would align very very usefully.

“Um,” Bumblebee began, not at all confidently. He hadn’t yet considered whatever he was. He wasn’t a fugitive, right? He wasn’t a bad guy. At least he hoped? 

“..No,” he said, slowly. 

Maybe he was. Maybe Sentinel had told Optimus and Bulkhead and Prowl and Ratchet and- and Sari that he was an enemy now and couldn’t be trusted and that was why they didn’t come looking for him and that was why Sentinel blasted him off into space and now he’s all alone. 

“…..I don’t know,” he added. “I.. guess.. I am alone..” Bumblebee sniffed quite loudly, probably on the edge of leaking, or, crying, if he even can. Maybe now, the bot decided, would be a good time to open his optics. So he did, rather slowly, and his anguished and near-delirious gaze landed on Starscream’s face plate. “Oh,” he said, because now he realised the gravity of the situation. 

..Ha. 

If this was his company now, maybe Sentinel had got some form of message across to him. Maybe he was a bad bot. Maybe he was.. oh, he shouldn’t say it yet because nothing’s been confirmed or anything. But.. surely he couldn’t be as bad as a Decepticon…?

He shook himself as if to get rid of any thoughts like that, but to the larger Decepticon it probably looked like he was about to explode from all of the emotions of all time ever coursing through him. Bumblebee supposed though that he appreciated that she’d lowered her gun. He was glad he probably wouldn’t be dying today- unless she changed her mind quickly.

Peculiar. She would have to question this new subordinate on the specifics of what exactly happened that led him here, but for the current priorities that was not the pressing matter. She grabbed him in a more comfortable position, his puny waist fitting ergonomically into her hand, and decided to carry him back to the base of operations for now.

The priorities being:

- Bring him back to a more operational state

- Get the power source back up and running

Any advanced espionage schemes would have to wait for later.

"If you are alone, then I suppose that makes two of us," she mused. "What a tragic situation to be in, abandoned by all everyone you knew with no one to rely on but yourself. I am well familiar."

Entering the hull through a blasted-up opening again, the only place she could really bring him right now was the main control room that she had repurposed to be her living quarters for now - it was where all of the tools were kept, and where the only semi-comfortable resting surface was stationed. A shame that her old habitation suite was now gone in the crash landing, the familiar ship was now in a near-unrecognizable state, but recharging was something she rarely did anyway even before this.

She left him on the makeshift bed as she rummaged through her belongings, retreiving a mixed bag of both vaguely-threatening and mundane-looking repair tools, then turning back around. "I'm no medbot, but I'll take a look," she smiled.

Bumblebee was finally coming to his senses, and was only now realising just what was happening. Was he going crazy? Why is he letting this happen?

He was being, not just held, but carried by Starscream. Starscream. He’d been brought into her evil Decepticon lair. They’d been… compared, yuck… And now he’d been set down on her bed? And she was going to try and Repair Him? AKA, not trying to kill him, as per usual?

Bumblebee’s eyes were wide, thinking all of this through, and he decided he had to get out of here one way or another, and fast. Through gritted dentas he hissed, albeit only half-confidently considering his current sorry state, “I-I’m not gonna let some Decepticreep do anything to me!” Yeah that’s right, you tell ‘em Bumblebee. Pushing himself up with two weak arms, something that took, a while (way longer than usual even if he can be a bit of a lazy bot), he tried to swing his legs off the edge so he could land on his two feet and RUN out of this… creepy Decepticreep lair. 

“And- and I’m not abandoned! I’m never gonna be anything- like you! You’re- alone for a reASONWOAH—” and with that Bumblebee was tumbling unceremoniously forwards, considering his balance was way off and he was in absolutely no state to stand, walk, run, or even crawl for that matter. He weakly crashed to the floor, yelling expletives, and ended up a crumpled heap on the floor, groaning because ow, that hurt. Now he was more injured AND really embarrassed, his faceplate reflecting this fact, and now he was sore and flustered and scared and angry and everything, but most importantly, he was melting into a puddle of limbs on the floor.

Of course, resistance was fully expected. There comes a point where it stops being worth it trying to salvage a broken mind - "loyalty" is one hell of a scam, and one only needs a single look at Lugnut to see what a lost cause zealot looks like. But, letting only a mild annoyance through the facade, she reminded herself that this line has not yet been crossed. This is workable. This will be worth it. Don't lose your cool.

She peeled him off of the floor, wishing she could just use restraints to weld him to the table right now. "I'm not even DOING anything yet," she hissed, "I said I'd take a look. The one time in my life that I act even a little bit helpful, and this is the thanks I get. And then the Autobots wonder why we're like this." She pinned the yellow problem to the bed with one of her hands and held an xray scanner up to the biggest dent with the other, examining and zooming in with her optics on the areas of damage. 

Yes, it's true, she wasn't a medbot, but she had plenty of experience tending to her own wounds and cracks after many an "incident", and she also had a lot of experience with what a fall from a large height can damage. Her prisoner's outsides were a little bit crumpled, and there might have been some internal leakage in need of welding shut, or a few tubes in need of reattachment, but as a whole it wasn't too shabby. Even without any repairs whatsoever, this one would survive for a while just fine.

"Remind me a little of what your name was?”

Squirming, panicked, the Autobot tried his best to wriggle out of Starscream’s grasp, but to no avail considering she was much stronger and he was much weaker, and not to mention quite sore. 

Then he got thinking maybe he was just weak and it wasn’t just because of his injuries. Maybe he was just not good at much at all, sure he was fast but there’s definitely faster bots than him, because obviously, he’s just, boring, and weak, and stuck here for a reason. And Sentinel was right. Stop thinking like that Bumblebee, you’re in danger here!

“And why should I tell you!” he barked, trying his best to act tough in spite of it all, glaring up at his now-captor. But he considered after he’d said this that what she had been doing hadn’t been bad at all so far. She did just take a look like she’d said she would…maybe she just hadn’t done anything nefarious yet just to get him comfortable, though. He began to consider whether he should go along for now then get his revenge and/or make his escape when he was in better repair and could actually really escape this time... 

Yes, Bumblebee thought to himself, this was a very good plan, a great plan even, a plan that the others would be proud of him for, because there would be no doubt about it that the Decepticon would probably try and manipulate him, because that makes sense for a Decepticreep to try and do. But he bet that she wouldn’t expect him to totally do the same back! So he… as much as it pained him to think this, he decided he would… play along… and cooperate… and then try and steal some form of, escape pod maybe, if the remains of this ship even had any that weren’t in disrepair… he’d figure something out. 

So after some deliberation Bumblebee sighed shakily, which was hardly even part of the act considering he was still quite nervy at the moment. “It’s.. Bumblebee.”

Oh, good. So he's starting to listen to reason. The name didn't actually matter to her, it was just so that she would have something other than "loudmouthed idiot" or "incompetent fool" to call him. 

She took the submissiveness as a sign that she was good to proceed with the actual repairs. Out of the bag, she grabbed a lazer cutter, and began calibrating it for opening up the servo where the tubing had busted itself open underneath the plating. As she turned the knobs, the cutter threateningly sparked with electricity. While she was at it, once she'll have him opened up, it would also be a good idea to snip a wire or two to cut off the comm link. Just in case he does have a backup to call on her.

"So, Bumblebee, if you're not on the run, what was the final straw that made your team kick you out? Tell me all about how you got here, I haven't had anyone but myself to listen to in a while, you know.”

Bumblebee thought carefully about what to tell her and how. 

…I mean, the getting repaired thing was a good bonus to this interaction he supposed, but, that meant he had to probably talk back. Y’know, to blend in and gain her trust, of course. 

“Wellllll…” he began, thinking. “I don’t know when.. or, how long ago this happened, because, uh, space, floating. But um, I.. snuck onto………..” Should he mention Sentinel’s name? Oh, slag it. “- Sentinel Prime’s Elite Guard ship…? Because I thought he was doing something- shady or, something, anyway. I don’t know, maybe it was stupid- but.. he found me.” He looked away, pausing, thinking about what had happened, however long ago. Sentinel was *not* happy. Less happy than he’d ever been with him, maybe even surpassing boot camp. Really super unhappy… furious. 

“So uh anyway he uh held me prisoner for a bit because I was snooping and he didn’t wanna get found out then I think he needed the cell for something else so uh he uhh ejected me basically.” He finished that almost too nonchalantly like he was trying not to care but it was obvious that he really did. 

Then, he thought for a moment. 

“Uhh..”

Should he?

“…Thank you,” ok he did ok sure why not, slag it, “for uh, helping. Me. You could really be kicking my aft right now! Haha- why, uh, haven’t you done that, actually..?” he asked, maybe testing his luck, worried now that asking this would cause the ‘con to offline him because she’d perhaps forgotten to earlier.

She paused, caught off guard by the "thank you". It was the briefest of pauses, less than a cycle to catch the confusion in her eyes before she remembered: right, yes, the thanks were the expected sign of exactly the thing she was trying to achieve here. Make him feel indebted to you and he'll return a favour back! But, of course, he shouldn't even know that he'd be doing her a favour by repairing the engine, because then he'll feel like his debts were repaid. No, there's got to be a different way of putting it.

Would it be too unbelievable for her to pose as a completely selfless saviour? Maybe not, maybe he'd be dumb enough to buy it, but the thing stopping her from going with the "out of the goodness of my own heart" story was that it was simply too embarrassing to even fake. No, she wasn't going to stoop so low, this was not the kind of situation where one needs to sacrifice her pride. Damn habit was hard to squash after so many years under Megatron's rule, praising his every rust stain.

Firework-like sparks flew everywhere as the lazer cutter made contact with the plating, but despite the scary look, the cut was so razor-thin that you would barely even feel it. Taking a look at the insides fully confirmed her analysis, and she got to reattaching the tubes. This would take no time at all.

"If your story is true, then you and me are very, very alike, Bumblebee, I'll put it that way. I had a few problems with Sentinel myself as of late, but even aside from that rustbucket, it was unusual seeing you without your team. I happen to simply always be on the lookout for the enemy of my enemy. Why not team up if our motivations align so well?" Her voice turned smooth and inviting again.

Bumblebee stared and laughed a bit in confusion (keeping up the facade, but also..). “Team- you’re asking me to team up? Me and you- you’re- hah, you’re a Decepticon! Why would I do something.. like that??” Bumblebee said in disbelief, which he was totally feigning right now, but he was also confused that she was suggesting it to him first but maybe also he understood because this is the manipulation and deception that comes with the territory of, well, being a Decepticon. Probably. 

The Autobot made sure to watch her moves carefully, to the best of his ability, to make sure she wasn’t doing anything evil or something nefarious to him. But he glanced to the side, away from the operation (perhaps at a crucial moment), and said, thinking, “You and me are nothing alike. But I-”

He cut himself off, because maybe that wasn’t so true? Because Sentinel had to boot him out for a reason instead of returning him to Earth…? He shook his head again and met her gaze, looking into her red and kind of scary optics. “Let me guess. If I don’t team up with you, you’re gonna, I dunno, do something to me, right? Maybe, blast me back out into space never to be seen again. Or.. worse.”

Bumblebee wondered how best to approach this. He wasn’t one for manipulation, unless it was to worm his way into getting a few more megacycles of free time to play games or something to that effect. 

“Besides… Sentinel isn’t my enemy… he just.. misunderstood my intentions. I think.” Bumblebee sighed. “I don’t really know if I have a choice here, do I?” It goes against everything in him to ‘team up’ with the likes of Starscream, but he knew he had to do it so he could get out of here, and quick. He just worried that she would make him do something that went entirely against all of his morals ever. But…

“I.. guess.. I could. Hang around.. but, I don’t know about.. teaming up. Maybe.. a.. truce?” he offered a bit sheepishly, trying his best to act like he really didn’t want to, which he didn’t of course, but perhaps more acting like he didn’t need to- which he probably did. It was a start, this truce. And then he would build it up on his own terms and then get out of there so fast.

Casually, she snapped an unremarkable wire with her claw, put the surface piece back in its place and took the welding tool to it. 

"Not at all. So as long as you're not trying to kill me, I'm not trying to kill you." She would absolutely kill him on the spot if he tried to leave. "Involuntary allies are allies that run away and backstab you. If you don't want to make this choice, then I don't want to even waste the energy on threats or attacks." Ironic, coming from her. Megatron didn't force her to join, yet it didn't save him from any of the pitfalls of a bad ally. And plus, it would take pretty much no effort to dispose of Bumblebee, either.

"You REALLY need to work on your self-esteem if you think someone that kicked you out into space like some sort of garbage isn't your enemy," she remarked with judgement. The plating was sealed, so he should be good to send to work now. She ran her hand over the servo surface, satisfied with how clean and smooth it turned out, and smiled softly. "A truce is fine with me. But this place is a bit run-down at the moment, as you can see. If you want to stay here, the engine power source is in need of repairs, and once we get it back and running we would have enough energy for us both.”

Bumblebee nodded along to her words, then got rather defensive when she mentioned his self-esteem and what had happened to him- but that wasn't entirely accurate what she was saying because Sentinel totally didn't kick him out into space like some sort of garbage. He just... couldn't deny that just yet. Because, well, he wasn't sure about it. Because it had been his fault that Sentinel did that. He shouldn't have stowed away. He could've been playing games with Sari right now and been happy and normal and not trapped on the Moon in this crash landed evil enemy lair ship with a Dececpticon. Actually, not just A Decepticon, this was one of The Decepticons. But he probably wouldn't mention that in any circumstance because he didn't want to, oh, I don't know, feed her ego, or something?

Bumblebee gritted his dentas and glared a bit. "He's.. not my enemy." Though he didn't sound at all too sure. Then he thought about the rest of what she'd said, and looked down at the repair job, slightly flinching when she touched him like that. He raised his servo to look at it better, tilting it to see all the angles, and, well. She.. didn't do too bad, he guessed.

Looking around, yeah, it really was quite run-down where they were, and he assumed that this was the most operational room of the lot. "So you're saying... you want me to help repair the engine for you?" This was probably something he could do. And he had to admit, more energy for the both of them sounded like a very needed thing. He probably really didn't want to stay here... but he had no other choice, did he? Besides, repairing the engine would probably get him a step closer to getting out of here and back to Earth. So this would be their deal, then.

...Fine. He could do it. Huffing a bit, the Autobot nodded, his optical ridges furrowed, appearing deep in thought. "I guess I could help out a bit," Bumblebee agreed, because it was probably his only option at this point. So, that was it... helping a Decepticon. If the others found out... they'd never forgive him. He'd probably be sent off into space again.

But they didn't have to know... and at this rate, it seemed like they never would. Whatever they were up to was obviously far more important than looking for him…

"No." She stood up, and it became once again immediately obvious just how much bigger she was in comparison. Her towering silhouette blocked the weak purple fluorescent light behind her, casting a dark shadow over Bumblebee. Only her red optics glowed.

"You're not doing it for me. I have my own private energy source. You're doing it for yourself, if you want to have any electricity around here, and I am merely doing you a favour by allowing you to use the engine's generator if you get it up and running." She should have stated this more clearly from the start. Guess her wording wasn't clear enough the first time around, or maybe this bot was more of an opportunist than she thought. 

"I would hope that you don't need me to help with the repairs, at least? I know not everyone has a degree in engineering," she sneered. Not that her degree mattered, considering it was about four million stellar cycles out of date, but that was besides the point. 

Leaving him all alone without supervision was dangerous, for sure, but if he were easily able to run away and escape, she figured he'd have tried to do that already by now. Her attention would be much better directed at putting together the weapon schemes for the megaweapon, researching in the archives what her new subject can be useful for, and setting up a better scanner for pinpointing Sentinel's current location.

Bumblebee thought he knew what it was like to be small, but with Starscream standing at full height in front of him, it really changed the definition of his height. That anxiety returned as he looked up into her optics, the only light visible to him. He'd been close to Decepticons before, yes, but never like this, defenceless and microscopic in comparison. Feeling that almost-maybe-just-actual fear cross his features, the Autobot shook himself out of the supposed trance and nodded. "Sure, okay, yeah, that's fine- good, I think."

The bot was lucky for his background in repairs, he decided. Sure, it would've been awesome to be an Elite Guard (probably), but that probably wouldn't have prepared him in the same way for this - the repairs side of things, anyway. "Yup!" he said, with a newfound smile, "I don't have a degree, but I sure did work on one of the best repair crews out there! So I think I should be fine to work on it. Just uh, you probably need to show me where it is," he added, because he had no idea where anything in this ship would be. 

Maybe things were looking up. Things were looking good! This is going well. So, he'd get the engine repaired,  using his expert skills and knowledge, and then... 

Wait a minute. What was his plan after this? How did he plan to escape, to get away, and get back home? Maybe there was a way of convincing Starscream to bring him back? No, probably not, she'd definitely prefer do anything other than that. He really needed to think about this and fast. His first problem, though, was dealing with the engine. The scheming and planning would just have to wait.

Like babysitting an intern. The things she does for the sake of avoiding having to do the dirty work probably take more effort than if she'd just done it herself by now. But the satisfaction of having someone serve you... This was all paying off.

Perhaps after this she could put him to work polishing her finish. As a little self-indulgence.

Along with her she dragged the toolbag. She wasn't too worried about Bumblebee trying to use one of the tools as an improvised weapon, considering one well-aimed blast is all it would take to finish him off, and even fully armed he wouldn't stand a chance against the seeker herself. She only hoped that he understood it just as well as she did, because there was no more space for inconveniences.

"There it is. Have at it, I have matters of my own to tend to." She threw the bag onto the ground in the direction of the engine, its shattered chunks sticking out of the ground in front of them. The fallen giant's guts spilling out onto the silver dust of the moon, the sight of the destroyed Nemesis evoked an unease she couldn't explain. To see something so grand and powerful brought down. To see something so familiar twisted beyond recognition. To lose the prison you were trapped in for so long.

Good riddance and long live the new leader.

She hoped Bumblebee didn't notice the lingering stare at the crash site.

Bumblebee gave her a double thumbs up. "Okay!" he said, chirpy and happy enough, so when she left it may have seemed somewhat of a shock that his demeanour entirely shifted in record time. The Autobot looked at the tools, and looked at the engine, and soon realised that he had no idea how to do anything to this machine. He debated calling after her, but, that would be highly embarrassing and maybe he'd be shouted at or scolded or something. He was only just flexing his ability a second ago, but, now he's got no idea how to approach this? Really great job, Bumblebee. 

How, where should he even start? Picking up some of the tools that belonged in the toolbag. These, yes, he recognised, but this whole machine was just, weird, and different. So he set the tools down again, and looked out to the stars, and again he felt so, so small. This was normal, this was a normal sight. To look up into the sky, and see the vastness of the galaxy and all its stars and planets and moons and satellites. But when he looked another way, he saw the Earth. And he felt so far from home. Because he was.

And nobody seemed to care.

Bumblebee balled his fists at his sides, tight. Sitting down on the dust of the Moon, he stared solemnly at his home. His home, where his team was, where Sari was, where all of the humans were. Where they'd all forgotten about him. He still didn't know how long it had been since he left aboard Sentinel's ship, because he had no real way of telling when floating out in space. But surely, someone had to have noticed by now. Someone should have cared that he was gone.

It took Bumblebee a while to notice he was getting close to damaging the repair job that Starscream had done. He was holding himself so tightly his servos were getting strained.

He needed to calm down. Get all of these thoughts out of his processor. He needed a distraction. So he picked up the tools. So he could be useful, and finally do something helpful. He moved over to the engine, examining the machinery, trying to see if he could understand any part of it, but knowing him, he'd probably end up ruining it. Bumblebee gritted his dentas. Stop it, Bumblebee.

All of these thoughts didn't make any sense, they weren't founded on anything. Surely the others just had to be busy with something! Fighting Decepticons, probably! Much more important things than rescuing a friend. Some sacrifices had to be made, and if that was the case, Bumblebee was more than happy to wait for however long it would take to save him. 

Or did they all think that poorly of him? Was he too annoying? Too naive? Too lazy, maybe, or too much of a pain in the skid plate? Maybe Sentinel had actually been in contact with them, with Bossbot. Maybe he was kicked off his ship for a reason. Maybe Optimus had asked him to do it. Maybe they all wanted rid of him and the opportunity arose. How easy that would have been to arrange. Maybe they were all just pretending to like him. Maybe they all took pity on him because the only thing he was good for was running away, being fast, or maybe there was nothing he was good for. Maybe they took pity on him because he was so weak, small and useless and that, since they had no more use for him, he was past his best. 

'Oh hey Optimus, guess what? I have your annoying bumbling teammate on my ship after the good for nothing glitch tried to spy on me. What a filthy traitor. What should we do with him?', to which Optimus Prime would reply, 'Just get rid of him, we don't need him anymore. It's such a coincidence that he took himself off-planet, that's something we were all just discussing, because we weren't sure how to deal with him. Thanks for taking care of him for us Sentinel, because we all couldn't care less what happens to him.' And that was that. And so he was ejected, out into space, never to be seen again. Because he's such a burden otherwise, and they'd struggle to get rid of him, clinging onto them all like some form of parasite. A filthy, leeching parasite. 

He clenched the wrench tightly in his servo, the one that Starscream had repaired. He didn't deserve this kindness, he didn't deserve anything! He should just- he should- and he was battering the engine. He was smashing it to pieces, frankly. He was doing more harm than good - probably, as per usual? Yelling out in anguish, the yellow Autobot just kept hitting it. Why, he couldn't tell you, because clearly he wasn't in a good state. Maybe it had been way too long since he was sent into through space and he'd just been downplaying his emotions and everything he'd been dealing with which ended up being a very bad thing, considering the engine was now destroyed and he was probably going to be offlined by Starscream the moment she found him and what he'd done.

But maybe that was fine. Maybe he didn't mind that. Maybe that was what he secretly wanted all along, because he was scared of being a burden to everyone around him. Maybe he thought he deserved to offline, or be offlined, or offline himself, he didn't know, and neither would you, because with the way he's going he can't currently articulate anything to anyone and maybe he never will. Because maybe this is a cycle that will continue and he'll just keep bottling the way he feels and the way little things get to him so easily and just keep adding to the fire and flames that fuel outbursts like this. Maybe Bumblebee crashing like this onto the Moon was the universe's way of giving him an easy way out, so, oh, if someone did eventually end up caring where he went, that it would make sense how and why he disappeared, instead of something self-made.

Bumblebee was exhausted. The wrench dropped to the ground at his side as he, breathing very heavily, dropped to his knees then to the ground himself. He was so, so tired. He didn't know when he last recharged, but that didn't really matter now. Because soon enough he would never need to recharge again.

If he ever recovered, he had no idea how he'd ever tell Starscream how or why he did this. She was bound to be furious. He took a deep breath in, then let it out, and just lay there. All alone, again. Probably how he deserved to be.

All alone, again. Probably how she deserved to be. 

It was a well-earned moment of peace. Nothing but the hum of the monitors and the rumble of her own internal engines, the lines on the screen blurred into one another in her vision. And when she closed her optics, the after-images of the schematics danced on her eyelids like ghosts, quadrupled then tripled then doubled ghosts, until each of the after-images faded away into the empty vast one by one. Her hand reached out into the empty vacuum, until she could feel her fingertips vibrate with static electricity. 

When she opened them back, her claw rested on the screen, covering the ship schematics in the precise spot she left Bumblebee in. The arm quickly dropped back down to the keyboard - no more time to waste.

If the leaked versions of the archives were telling the truth, Bumblebee was in fact part of Optimus's crew, and had been kicked out of the Elite Guard training camp, meaning using him for the Sentinel mission was likely useless. It was still a handy excuse for their current truce, but what she really needed was to give a quick fly-over to the Earth Team, who were still guarding the majority of the All-Spark, and see for herself how bad the relations with their ex-member were.

Letting him speak to them at all could be dangerous. Even in the case that they truly did abandon him, the Autobots were a dangerously easy-going bunch, with Optimus in particular knowing how to leverage even the enemy as a potential assist. And chances are, they'll find a way to befriend him again. She cringed at the sickeningly sweet reunion imagery in her head.

This is why it was much easier to be a Decepticon. It was so clear-cut that you weren't wanted. Each con for themselves, the distrust was a reliable and safe assumption to make. She cannot ever imagine having to navigate around the expectation of blind and naive trust. She cannot ever imagine having to gamble on whether or not she'd be forgiven for any specific mistake or betrayal. She cannot imagine what it's like to not be sickeningly... safely, peacefully, finally alone.

The left monitor hummed in complete silence, showing Bumblebee's archive datafile entry.

The right monitor flickered from the uneven electricity flow, white lines on a blue background outlining schematics of the engine section and giving her the funny ghosts in her optics.

Don't send him to fight Sentinel and don't send him to steal from Optimus. She'll figure out what he can be useful for later. Maybe he's good for something, maybe not, right now this didn't matter. Just keep him around, and keep a close watch on him. 

Keep a close watch. She should check in on how the progress is going.

...

The silence was not a good sign - construction work is never silent, meaning either he was slacking off or he ran away somewhere. Just great.

As she got even closer to the engine room, she realized it was smoking, its pistons crooked and its glass containers shattered worse than they were before. Cursing with every swear word she knew, she ran towards it to examine the damage, and nearly stumbled over the kneeling Bumblebee. "What the frag-?" she growled, looking down on the disgusting traitor with confusion and anger. So if he didn't run away and hide immediately after causing the damage, what was his plan here? Was this genuinely just stupidity?

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" she asked with a blaster pointed at his head, not bothering to ask what he has done, because that part was obvious enough. Her servos shook uncharacteristically for reasons she could not understand, throwing off her aim.

It didn't make any sense. Why wasn't he running? He knew what he had done, it had to be out of malice, and he knew what was coming. So why wasn't he running?

She looked around in paranoia. Was this an ambush? Did he somehow call for backup? But his comm link was severed, she made sure of it herself! Was Bumblebee himself a trap? A ticking time bomb? She took a step back just in case, then another, still aiming at him.

"WHY AREN'T YOU RUNNING?"

Bumblebee wasn't moving much, lying limp on the floor. It was hard to tell he was even still online, but if you listened hard enough you could hear a similar rumbling to that of Starscream, albeit much fainter. He didn't really feel like he was here, on the ground, on the Moon. He didn't really feel like he was anywhere. It was just like before, floating through space and time all alone.

When the Decepticon came he hardly registered she was speaking to him. His optics were shut again, and he'd sort of assumed a fetal position, and his sensors weren't receiving much. If one had to put a name to what he was feeling, it was certainly dissociation. His systems crashing after the outburst, which took so much power from him. He was hardly responsive.

So, to someone observing him, it would've come quite a shock when his voice croaked out quietly,

"..I'm, sorry."

It was near impossible to hear, and raspy from his vocaliser overloading from all that yelling and anguish and pain. 

And that was all he said, as that was all he probably could say, or think to say - if he was evening thinking. He didn't flinch when she yelled. He didn't react when she did anything for that matter. He was so small, lying on the floor curled up in a tight ball. What a poor, fragile little Autobot. And he was completely still, a dead weight, not even shaking anymore. Just...nothing.

 "S..sorry," 

came the tiny voice again, only just managing to say the word and nothing else - as if on autopilot, having been used to apologising like this.

It certainly wasn't one of his proudest moments - far from it. And he certainly wouldn't be talking about it to anyone anytime soon. Not his crew, not Starscream, no-one. No one.

Her first thought was, "that doesn't answer my question, you idiot." But the lack of any visible threat, and the extremely confusing situation at hand made her stall for longer, overanalyzing what she saw and heard. Sorry? Sorry? She knew he had a low sense of self-worth, but to stoop as low as begging for forgiveness instead of owning up to his actions?

And furthermore, did he think Starscream was stupid? That he could convince her it was a mistake? That he could make her feel bad for him?

She fired a warning shot next to Bumblebee's head, scorching the moondust, but not actually harming him. "I DON'T NEED YOUR APOLOGIES, I NEED ANSWERS! ANSWER ME!" she screamed as she came over and turned him to face upwards with her foot. "AT LEAST LOOK ME IN THE OPTICS IF YOU'RE TRYING TO ACT SORRY!" Her entire body shook now. He wouldn't even look at her. He wouldn't even look at what he'd done.

At least when she fucks up, she has the decency to beg and plead for mercy. Why wasn't he pleading? Why did he want her to hurt him?

As much as she wanted to hurt him, the one thing she hated was giving people what they wanted.

She stormed off back to the control room. The orbital lazer plan was bust, but what else is new. Plenty more spare parts to make weapons out of around here. Trying to calm down her anger and keep her pride intact, she punched the wall on the way there. Punishing Bumblebee wasn't going to do anything to keep her safe, because if he had some sort of plan with that whole ordeal, what she really needed was an increase in security.

She can fly away any moment now. This is not a home. This is barely even a base of operations. And this place wasn't safe anymore, now with whatever malfunction this bot has. But this was Nemesis, the ship that she worked for, dang it, and most importantly she wasn't going to be bested by a scrawny drop-out loser. Whatever it is that he's planning, she at least wants to see it first.

Maybe he isn't planning anything. Maybe floating in space has just messed up his programming somehow, even though she's been through the absolute same thing in the past for far longer and came out of it just fine. But if so, then there was nothing she could do to repair that. And why would she even want to? He was not just useless, but actively harmful to her, actually! She should take him offline! She should kill him!

But the idea just brought up the memory of how his voice sounded when apologizing, faintly, barely audibly. Some fucking 5D space chess he's playing, she groaned and held her head in her hands in anguish. Can't do that. Can't give him what he wants. Was that his plan all along?

In the control room, she tore the control panel of the ship open and took out the force field area projector. Then, clawing at the walls near the corners, she tore those open too - inside were scanners, ones that Shockwave thought he hid so well, that were used for spying on the crew back then before his departure from the ship. Sensitive things, they would pick up any signal, Autobot or Decepticon, if she were to reactivate the network of them. She reached for her forehead and braced for the processorache as she chipped off a speck of the All-Spark from her "private energy source". 

If we're beefing up on security, we're really beefing up on security. 

Stumbling her way over to the central control systems with her hand grasping desperately at the pained head, she slumped in her chair and forced herself to finish off the upgrade by linking the alert system to her comm frequency for any notifications. Instantly, it felt like she could feel everything happening on the ship. Like she was the ship. If that's how Shockwave felt too, no wonder he wanted to leave this place for the spy mission. One cycle, she was completely disoriented, the next she was already used to it.

There was no one here. She was alone. 

On the entire wide ship, no intruders, no one at all but her and Bumblebee, his uneven engine rumble now audible to her all the way over here. The two of them, all alone.

Stop shaking.

Leave him alone until he comes crawling back to you and apologizes properly.

Stop shaking.

It took a long, long while for Bumblebee to even attempt moving. It started with the twitch of his finger, restless after cycles if not a megacycle of disuse. He'd just been lying amongst the wreckage, something not unlike him.

After his finger, it was then his servo, shifting, as if to prop himself up. He turned slowly, and once he had both of his servos steady on the ground, he pushed up, his knees steadying under him slowly but surely. And eventually, he stood. One foot after the other, there you go, and you're walking again.

Bumblebee looked at the wreckage, a blank expression on his face. This was quite the mess, to say the very least. The wrench on the floor caught his eye. He ignored it. If he had had better balance, he would have kicked it away. Stupid, stupid bot. 

After picking up some pieces of what he was supposed to repair, and neatly tidying them into separate piles, Bumblebee decided he ought to go and see what Starscream was doing now. If her reaction earlier was any indication, she'd probably be furious. Maybe she'd even shoot him.

Slowly, one step after the other, Bumblebee made his way back towards the control room where he believed he had come from originally with her. 

He'd done this before, but never anything this bad. His issues had to stem from somewhere, but he'd never had time to unpack anything. So he ignored it. And that's what he was going to do now. 

But now he had to make amends. Because he ruined that for her. It's terrible, beyond repair. He was supposed to fix it. If he had been in a better mood, he would've chuckled. Making amends with a Decepticon...

Rounding the bend, he found himself at the entryway, and looked in from the offside to see if he could see her; and so he did. There she was on her chair. He wasn't sure if he should move inside. He cleared his throat, watching her every move, with that same empty expression, and spoke; this time he was more audible. 

"Uh, hey- hi- hello," he finally settled on. His tone was as blank as his features, devoid of emotion, like he was trying to hide how he felt to try and stop the same thing from happening again. "Starscream," Bumblebee began, trying to think of how best to explain what had happened... "I.. didn't mean to. I'm.. sorry. I.. I um.." What would you even begin to call what happened? What he did? And I thought he decided he wouldn't be talking to anyone about it? So he ended it there, awaiting her response, be it a gunshot or something else. It was fine, he deserved it, he knew it.

It was strange, so very strange to be able to hear- no, feel his every step on the way to here. She let out an evil chuckle about it, maybe already power tripping. It helped.

Having been given more than enough time to gather her thoughts, she was back to her usual self, hands clasped in a waiting gesture as the unsure steps got closer and closer. 

Only after he said all he seemed to have to say, she spun around in her chair - not quite the throne she wished it was, but just as comfortable and empowering. Her legs were crossed, one over another, and her wings folded up high as to not knock over the monitors in the spin.

"Ahh, you didn't mean to. And here I was, silly me, thinking that hitting the engine with a wrench until it breaks was an act of malice," she smirked, gesturing for emphasis. "Doesn't matter. There's still plenty of work to be done, so if you really do feel sorry, you owe it to me to make yourself useful."  

She did a full 360° spin in her chair, flicking a button on the keyboard in one fell swoop motion. Behind her, the monitors lit up, showing more schematics. 

"This ship's guns. I want you to remove them. Take them completely out." 

She hoped that Bumblebee understood - right now, every cycle that she's not beating him senseless, is a cycle he's indebted to her for. The more guilt and obligation he feels, the more she'll be able to extract out of him. And right now, with the world being ten times louder than it usually is, and with a massive ache slowing down her processor calculations, drilling holes in the ship and extracting weaponry was the last thing she wanted to do in the entire universe.

Bumblebee nodded, "Sure, okay, I think I can do that," he replied. The Autobot waited for a moment before adding quietly and sheepishly, "I assume you uh, want them intact, so you can repurpose them..?" This was so embarrassing. Why did he have to go and do.. all of that. He feels like such a failure. He shouldn't! Starscream is a Decepticon! Why does he feel like he has to do this for her?... Well, that's a stupid question. He just destroyed something of hers, now if he doesn't do this she'll probably offline him. 

He was... well, not to say he was surprised by her change in mood, as it had been a while, but... at least she wasn't screaming at him. Listening to what she had to say, he guessed he did owe her. A lot. Was he, essentially, a prisoner...? They made people do manual labour in prison, right?... 

After some thinking, he nodded again. "I'll go- do that." This can't be as hard as whatever the engine...was, right? Just a case of taking out the weaponry and keeping it all in one piece and safe. Right. He could do that. He's had to do that a lot for repairs, and stuff, so... 

He lingered a bit, in case she had anything more to say to him. In case she wanted to yell at him, or something. 

Then, he left, to go back to the engine room, where he cringed at the sight of the damage he'd caused. What was wrong with him. Not bearing to see it all for much longer he grabbed up the tools - and the wrench, stuffing it back into the bag - quickly, and went to where he assumed the weapons would be in the ship. If he remembered correctly... they were at the back, weren't they? 

So out he headed, and he couldn't get distracted this time. Bumblebee set to work drilling and removing screws and nuts and bolts and whatever else he came across to carefully detach the missiles from the huge warship. He remembered all those stellar cycles ago when they were being chased by it. He huffed. He shouldn't think about them now. Carefully as he worked he laid each missile down, then some time later when he was finished he carefully picked them up to bring back to Starscream.

"OF COURSE I meant intact, idiot!" she snarled, not really worried about keeping her anger in check. This was basically the default Decepticon response, and if Bumblebee took these threats seriously, then she really wants to see how he'd fare in an actual con argument.

In her chair, she relaxed, putting her feet up on the panel in satisfaction with getting Bumblebee to do all the work, but the rest would not last long. As soon as the tools touched her hull, she shuddered. Right, that's the price you pay for being all-knowing - you're also all-feeling. 

It felt almost impossible to focus on anything at all in this state. And she had more blueprints to engineer - the blueprints for actually attaching these weapons. 

When Bumblebee came back, he found her experiencing The Struggle. Her head was firmly planted faceplate-down into the control panel, with her arms covering it in a desperate attempt to provide any sort of peace or quiet. As he entered, which she felt every step of, she gave him quite the death glare from under the arms. 

"Good job. Leave them there," she vaguely waved in the direction of the room's corner without as much as looking. She didn't actually care where he'd leave them, though.

"Would be nice if we had the recharge slab up and running," she remarked, not letting Bumblebee relax for even a moment. Guilt and indebtation are important to keep high at all times.

The All-Spark fragment lodged into her head felt like it was going to either crack itself, or crack her head open Ice Age squirrel style. Uuuuuuuughhh.

Bumblebee did as he was told and set the parts down silently, not wanting to disturb her, but he found himself lingering again, looking at Starscream. He nodded at the new order, glancing between the door and the Decepticon, then decided to chance disturbing her and ask her a question.

"Are you... uhh... okay? You're not lookin' too good there," he added, though that may have been a mistake, because she'll probably take it the wrong way and assume he's mocking her or something, when apparently, he's actually concerned? Something must be really wrong for him to be worrying about a Decepticon, he decided. But, reasoning with himself, he'd never seen a Decepticon acting so... normal(?) before. Especially not one like Starscream.

Tilting his head to get a better look perhaps at her face, Bumblebee dared to take a small number of steps closer. "I mean, if there's anything I could get you I'd be happy to, probably, uh, because, I guess it's kind of my job right now to do things like that...?" he continued, gesturing a bit to try and seem friendly. "Just, uhh... let me know. I'll go and try and sort the recharge slab now. You kinda look like you need it," he joked, then quickly moved away to get back to work so that she wouldn't get mad at the joke. 

He figured that Starscream probably had no time for his joking or comments, especially not in her current struggling state, so he wanted to be out of there as fast as possible. Now, to try and sort the recharge slab... dutifully the little bot retrieved the tools and set out to work.

"YOU'RE NOT LOOKING TOO HOT EITHER, GLITCHHEAD! Lest you have forgotten all the dents and scratches in your finish! You have work to do, and so do I, and the only thing that would make me happy would be SEEING THE ALL-SPARK IN MY HANDS!" she snapped back, still threatening just for the sake of looking threatening. 

Does this idiot think he's still in the Autobots, where everybody pukes rainbows into each other's faces? Like she didn't notice she was looking weak and miserable! No need to point that out!

Most importantly, she couldn't let him think for even a microcycle that he was doing her a favour. "And I DON'T. NEED. RECHARGING! It's not for ME, it's for YOUR OWN SAKE, IDIOT!"

She kept glaring at him even after letting out some of that pent-up mild annoyance, expecting a rebuttal. Expecting some sign of direspect. But, as Bumblebee seemed to just quiver in fear, looking even smaller than he already was, the only thought she could think of made her expression briefly turned into one of horror: Why aren't you running?

She quickly turned back to the computers. No time to pay attention to some shmuck. The weapons are already here and it is now her job to upgrade herself with them. Just need to finish the schematics.

Bumblebee sighed, setting down the tools. He seemed to be done working on the recharge slab for now. He was actually quite happy with his work. This time around… Ahem, anyway. No sense worrying about that - for now anyway. 

The yellow bot tidied up the tools he had used into the bag and brought them back with him to the control room. He walked quietly, and when he reached the doorway he only peeked his head in to see if he could see what Starscream was up to. If he wanted to be able to do anything like what he was thinking before, he really needed to study her and try and find.. oh, he didn’t know, weak points, probably? Does she even have any? Hm, she definitely looked like she needed to recharge earlier. A small smile crept onto his faceplate as he chuckled silently, because maybe Decepticons aren’t as big and scary as he thought… well, asides from the obvious big part considering his own size in comparison. He guessed that confirming something as simple as needing to recharge would be showing weakness to him, so that would be out of the question entirely for her - and she definitely wouldn’t recharge around him because what if he tried to come up and offline her when she was entirely defenceless? Which, probably, he wouldn’t…? He’d have no real way of getting back otherwise… But either way, he knew that that was never going to happen so long as he was here. So she was probably really tired. That would definitely affect functionality…

Obviously the Autobot had no idea that she was in tune with Nemesis and could probably tell he was standing right there and what he was doing. But, oh well…

He was getting the hang of this, snooping and creeping and spying. It was just too bad that he had failed on Sentinel’s ship. He could’ve been a hero by now. But, that was in the past, so he had to move on. He was getting the hang of all this, sure, but the quips to himself in his thoughts, trying to make light of the situation and poke fun, did hardly anything to ease the fact that he was still deeply frightened of her. Though he didn’t want to admit it at all and was trying to seem cool and upstanding and confident. 

All things considered, the question really was why he had never run from her in those moments like before, like any other bot would. He had no time to unpack that, so, whatever. Back to watching.

It was so weird, simultaneously watching and feeling watched. Quite distracting, and only once her wings began cramping did she realize how tensely she's been holding them this entire time. Ow.

That gave her an idea. Dedicating one CPU thread to typing, with another she unfolded her wings, angled them towards the doorway and began vibrating them threateningly, like a rattlesnake shakes its tail. And almost as much processing power had to be dedicated to not giggling. Best part? She didn't even have to imagine Bumblebee's reaction. She could see it- feel it? in full glory.

Bumblebee was watching Starscream’s movements so intently that when, all of a sudden, this happened, he yelped and managed to somehow toss the tools everywhere out of the bag in surprise. Scrambling desperately to pick them up and return them to their bag, which he then left just in the entranceway, he darted down the hall a bit before skidding to a stop.

How had she known he was there??? Did she have cameras up or something??? Motion sensors??? And what even was that? Was that some form of joke she just played on him? Did Bumblebee just get… out-joked??? 

Bumblebee decided that this was not on - but it was on. He knew he had to get payback somehow, but, how? Now that was the real question. Either way, he knew he would think of something. And he would.

He slowly returned to the control room and cleared his throat to get her attention. “There, that’s all done,” he told her, as if nothing at all had just happened and everything was normal and he didn’t just dart away like a fool. “Now you can go take a stasis nap or recharge or whatever it is you need to do no problem. Cuz I can tell you need to,” he added, pointedly looking her up and down and gesturing with a finger.

Having successfully held back a giggle, she quickly returned her wings back to their usual position and also pretended like nothing happened. Feigning being caught off guard by Bumblebee's entrance, she growled at his insufferable comment.

"Do you need me to REPEAT MYSELF? I DON'T! NEED! REST!" she slammed her fist on the desk, getting successfully ragebaited. But as a notification sound brought her attention back, she noticed that the schematics calculations were finally finished, and her face twisted into a smile. "What I do need is a change."

She picked up the same toolbag Bumblebee had been carrying around and took it to the weapons pile, kneeling down onto the ground and whipping out a connector. She began preparing the weapons for attachment, removing part of her own shoulder panelling.

Bumblebee jumped a bit at the desk getting slam, then mumbled, "I mean you can repeat yourself all you want..." but he stopped himself from going any further because he didn't want to test his luck with what he'd already been saying. He didn't really want that desk to be him, you see. But it was good to know she reacted like this so easily to a simple suggestion of rest. 

He honestly couldn't imagine going for so long without rest - he had no idea how long Starscream had gone without it, but he knew that if he went long without sleep he'd be an entirely different person. He wondered if she'd be much different if she had a nap once in a while.

He watched her carefully, especially her shift in demeanour into something more scheming, that twisted smile. It caused him to feel a bit uneasy. He worried what she was planning with those weapons - attaching them to herself, obviously, which he thought was anxiety-inducing enough. But what was she planning to do after the upgrades were completed? 

He hummed to himself in thought. Maybe he should offer to help, because he's a great and useful repair bot after all... if he did a good job on that he would be good in her books, right? But she probably wouldn't let him take even a step near her with all those tools. After all, he is on Bossbot... Optimus' team, and therefore can't truly be trusted, right? Maybe he'd just... "Do you need me to do anything? Help, or..?" he asked, trailing off at the end, not fully confident in his offer - because he did just assume he'd be instantly rejected. But if he was allowed, that was a good sign, right? That she was trusting him... and then maybe eventually he'd be able to convince her somehow to take him home, and he'd get out of here…

Her first reaction to hearing the offer for help was to scoff - after all, does this bot really think that she'd let him anywhere near her internals? This trick only works in one direction. But annoyance took over when she tried to think of something better for him to do. Ugh, can't he just sort himself out? Does this hyperactive subordinate need every klik of his life scheduled out with some work? You'd think that someone like him would take any opportunity to slack off for a moment.

She hesitated. He does need something to do. And she's attuned to his every move, so surely nothing he could do would slip by her attention. And that spot on the back of the shoulder can be terribly hard to reach.

This is ridiculous. She doesn't need help and she's not going to let an Autobot do her upgrades. "Yeah, I need you to, uuuh... hm. Um, well, there's probably something out there you can repair. If we can get me up and running- I mean, the ship up and running, that would be the dream. Or maybe do some cleaning around this place - I swear, I can feel dust clogging my every crevice," she grumbled. Yeah, that's what being a good leader was. Letting your subordinates manage themselves. 

As she complained, the screwdriver she was trying to reach the back of her shoulder with fell out of her hands and she sighed in frustration. There wasn't any other better place for the missiles, but it also just seemed to be an impossible task. Still, she continued her fruitless struggle to reach it.

Right, that makes sense she would give him something else to do. Bumblebee raised his brow at her original phrasing, odd, but sure, but he didn't go anywhere. He just watched her struggle for a moment or two. 

...Watching her struggle was originally kind of funny, haha a big scary Decepticon can't even reach a screw, but now? It was just sort of... sad. It was a very dangerous decision the Autobot had to make. He could help Starscream install these dangerous murderous missiles that she may or may not use against him and his... the others back on Earth, or he could not help the Decepticon and go do some other things around that would probably help her do the same thing but slower.

"Do you want me to... you can't reach that bit, you could just, let me? I'm... pretty good with a screwdriver." 

What is he doing? What is he saying? Why? Her manipulation can't be working, she's hardly done any - right??? Oh, slag, maybe he just hasn't noticed and he's been subconsciously giving in this whole time. Frag! He's literally been mending things left right and centre! He literally got her these weapons that she wants to install! What is he doing?? Why did he not realise? Sure, he's doing it to gain her trust, but he's been doing it right! He's not even been sabotaging anything like he should have been! He's being so so stupid. 

The panic was slowly creeping into visibility on his face plate, optics widening as he stared off into nothing in thought. His team would be so disappointed.

There comes a point where you have to swallow your pride and accept the embarassing option. For Starscream, it seems that point came after the third time dropping the screwdriver. 

"Please."

Despite accepting the help, she was still disappointed in Bumblebee for disobeying the orders. Well, not that she gave a very clear order, it was more just a general "fix the ship", and... now he was fixing her. 

If this is how Shockwave felt, then she has no idea how he ever managed to leave this ship.

- But what she really meant was "scram out of my sight", and he should have picked up on the implied orders! With a subordinate like that, who needs enemies?

Bumblebee came to his senses, shaking himself out of his thoughts and back into the present. He could worry about all of that later. Besides, it's not like they'd know. He chuckled a little, which he felt was a tad mean, but he continued, "Sure." Carefully, he took the screwdriver from her servo and reached the desired screws, which he removed with ease and care, because he didn't want her to hurt her (in case she hurt him, obviously). "Anything else you need me to do here, O Greaaaat Decepticon Leader?" he joked with a snort. Hah, imagine. But it didn't sound so bad coming from him, if only he had said it more sincerely.

What a strange, strange position to be in, he mused. Here he was, with the fearsome Decepticon Starscream, helping her install life-threatening missiles that could kill him in mere cycles, because she couldn't reach. Mending her ship, fixing her problems, destroying the engine which he's ignoring, what else has he done? Ah right, he let her repair him like that was nothing. 

He needed to get out of here, and fast. This whole situation, it was getting to him, badly. But at this rate, there was to much to do, and he would surely be seen automatically as a traitor for doing any of it, even though if he didn't, he'd probably be offlined by his.. apparently, his now-superior. So he really had to decide, and fast. 

Did he want to be outlawed, banished, forgotten (like he wasn't already), or did he want to die? 

It felt like a lose-lose situation. But there had to be a way to get out without either of those things happening to him. He just had to look around, think hard, and find it. That escape route. It had to be there. Right?

Now we're talking. She could listen to THIS all day! 

Completely unable to pick up on the joking nature of Bumblebee's offer, she was rather pleased to the point of giving him a satisfied engine purr of approval. "Now get the solder and connect the pulse fire line with my energy supply wire." Best part is, she could watch him do his work and double check everything herself...

"The blue one, that is. In case you're unfamiliar." Just in case.

Her wings lowered, drooping down to the floor. When she's done getting these upgrades, there was one "upgrade" she wanted to return the favour to Bumblebee with. The corners of her lips curled upwards.

Bumblebee stared, flabbergasted, at the Decepticon. What was th- was that her fragging engine- was that a purr? Holy slag. What. "Uh, s- sure." What's wrong with you. He shook himself back to normal. 

Doing as he was told (wrong), Bumblebee grabbed the solder from the toolbag and looked for the wire she was talking about so he could attach the lethal weapon's pulse fire line to it, as she asked (wrong). Carefully, a humorous expression on his faceplate as he concentrated, he did so (wrong), and he did it pretty well (bad). 

He did it slowly, so there would be zero grounds for mistake. He didn't want to know what would happen if he did make a mistake, because whatever it would be, it would NOT be good. Adding the finishing touches... 

"There, that's that done. Uhh, anything next?" he added, holding the tool in case he needed to use it again. He would definitely be regretting all of this in the future. Yes, let's give one of his greatest enemies a deadly worse weapon than she had before…

"Repeat the same thing for the other shoulder," she commanded in a low voice. Never before has she seen a subject this obedient, this easily ordered... maybe she should make her army all out of ex-Autobots if they're this easy to wrangle. Because this would have never worked were  she to try it on literally any of the Decepticons. How wonderful it is to face no opposition.

"You make for a good Decepticon, you know that, right?" she lied partially. Only partially because a real Decepticon would never be this good for her, but what wouldn't she give if they were all this way.

Bumblebee was about to do just as she'd said (wrong, and he knew he shouldn't), was about to get the screwdriver (why are you helping her?), when she said that. And he darkened, pulling away. 

"What are you talking about?" he asked, a mix of fury and terror dripping from his words. He laughed, a baffled, almost disgusted laugh, "Me? A Decepticon?" He laughed harder, confused, taking another step back. "I could never..." He trailed off. It was so different just him thinking anything like that, let alone someone telling him it. Bringing his worst nightmares to life. 

"I would never be one of- one of you. A- A Decepticreep." He dropped the solder, but he didn't move any further. 

He didn't run. 

Why didn't he run? He was stuck, glued to the spot, a dark expression shadowing his features, one of shock, horror, and disgust.

But she was right, wasn't she? 

At this point, he was no better than any of them. Maybe... maybe his team knew. That he was so easily susceptible to something like this. That's why they got rid of him.

Bumblebee stopping in his tracks made her suspicious once again, her wings locking up straight. Ah, it seems that her little friend needed some more convincing...

"Now, now, no need for insults. It's really not so bad to be a Decepticon, you know." At least, under her rule, that is. Under Megatron's... not so much. "It might not be what it used to be, but you can get power, riches, and relatively good working conditions with exception for emergencies. Plus we allow for maternity leave."

She turned her head around, giving him a welcoming smile, then placed one of her servos on his, guiding it to the screwdriver once again. 

"Come on now. You should know how lucky you are to have the Leader of the Decepticons herself give you this offer. That's how you know you're really wanted here.”

Bumblebee wrenched his servo away at record speed, holding it tightly with his other servo as if he was terrified he might lose it if she dared touch him again. "No, nono," he began, incredulous that she would even be saying this. Can she not see that is he an Autobot? An AUTOBOT. Actually, contrary to apparently the popular opinion, he thinks it very much would be bad to be a Decepticon. In his personal and professional opinion. "You- you think I want that? Any of that? I want- I don't know what I want. But not any of that." 

The yellow ... bot, was staring at her like she'd just politely asked for permission to offline his entire crew. Which, if he joined the Decepticons, she might as well do, because they would never, ever forgive him. It was frankly insane that she would think that he would ever want to join her. All those megacycles of missed rest much be really frying her circuits or something because he thought it was madness that she would even consider offering asking him to become a Decepticon. 

He laughed again. "Lucky. Lucky? You call this lucky? You're asking me to- to leave, to abandon everyone I've ever loved, my crew, my friends, my-" Could he even call them that anymore? He cut himself off, gripping his servo tightly. And that smile, that fragging smile, how dare she even look at him like that. "I don't- I don't care if I'm 'wanted here'. What I want- what I really want, is to get the slag OUT OF HERE!" he yelled with a growl of disgust.

"You know I was trying to do something, to, to maybe trick you or convince you to bring me back if I did something for you, but this? If this is where all of that got me, I fragged up somewhere along the pipeline something MAJOR. So I'm done, I'm done with all this pretending--" he cut himself off again, disgusted with himself, "I called you 'O GREAT DECEPTICON LEADER' and you thought I was SERIOUS? Is that where this came from? You--" Bumblebee choked out a laugh, wishing he would take a step back, but he was stuck to the spot. Why? Why?

He mulled over what she had said, and laughed again, "Maternity leave- what are you even talking about? What is WRONG with you? You- you're a disgusting, fragging- FREAK, to even THINK that I would join you, to even AMUSE YOURSELF WITH THE CONCEPT that I would join you, I--" another laugh, filled with pure disbelief and horror. "I hate you, and your kind, and to think that you think- that I would join you," he paused, "is completely and utterly INSANE." 

He paused to try and calm himself down, to make sure he was making sense, because frankly he was well and truly freaking out right now. "So- so, GET ME OUT OF HERE. Or when I find my crew again, I'll- I'll get them to deal with you better than I can." 

But he couldn't get those nagging thoughts out of his processor that maybe she was right. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe it wasn't that bad at all. All of the benefits she laid out were sound, were good, were something he should consider. Did he get anything like that where he currently worked? And, she was right again, the Leader of the Decepticons herself really was giving him this offer, he should be proud. Be thankful. He's wanted somewhere, for once in his life, he can feel like he has a purpose as part of a proper team, unlike back on Earth, with the others, that hadn't even found him, or tried to find him for that matter. He should be honoured, should accept her offer immediately, sure, he heard what she said. He would make a really good Decepticon, all things considered. He's smart, he's fast, he's strong, he's everything he needs to be and more to fit in. Maybe it would be like having a family again. He's wanted here.

Bumblebee's grip slackened slightly. His expression changed, from one of disgust and fury to one of worry. He didn't say anything - didn't know what to say. He just couldn't believe that he was really considering this. He didn't look at her - couldn't.

She watched him crash out, completely unamused and frankly a bit bored. Yeah, yeah, big bad Decepticons, as if she hasn't heard the same thing a thousand times before. As if that wasn't the whole point. 

Nobody joins the Decepticons if there isn't at least something wrong with them. Was there any glimmer of evil, of betrayal, of pride in Bumblebee? Hard to tell. Maybe not. That's why half of her was lying when she said it - this isn't the kind of person that is fit for the Decepticons. Maybe not even fit for her personally, either.

Just mildly useful.

"Okay, okay, I get it! I get it. You were told that being a Decepticon is the worst thing in the world and you believed it, formed your whole identity around hating us, and now feel the need to tell me in the face how much you want me dead. Very polite. I've seen it all before, and you've not special, not a hero, and not morally above us just because you're an Autobot. Which, fine, stay that way if you think of working for me that low."

Using the fact that he seemed to be frozen in place and stunned by his own anger, she snatched the screwdriver out of his hands and decided to just work on attaching the other weapons instead, since the missile spots were that hard to reach.

"You're free to leave," she said, knowing that he would have nowhere to go on this abandoned dusty planet and would inevitably come back eventually. "But the facts are these: the Elite Guard kicked you out, twice, with the second time leaving you floating in space for Spark knows how long; your buddies on Earth still haven't even begun searching for you; I never forced you to stay here in the first place and showed you mercy more times than I can count; and considering you willingly volunteered to help me, I doubt that your so-called 'friends' would even look you in the eyes with all that propaganda in their processors." 

And the biggest fact, which she omitted: you need me, but I don’t need you.

Friends. Pffsh. It's a nice pipe dream.

Bumblebee was silent, staring down at his servos, until finally, he slowly put his arms down and looked up at Starscream. 

She was right. The Elite Guard don't want him, his friends - or rather, his crew don't want him... Nobody wants him. But she did... right? He could work for her and it would be fine. He could be useful. He could be good at helping, he was, usually, or at least he thought. And that was what she needed from him. She seemed pleased enough with his work earlier, with how he was helping her...

And she was right again - he was a traitor now. He'd helped her already, that was too far, they'd never, ever forgive him. Why not... embrace it? Be who he's supposed to be. It wasn't fair. Why did she have such a habit of being right? 

And why did all of this feel right? When he knew it to be so wrong? Was she right about that, too, that it was just propaganda? He guessed he never really had interacted with a Decepticon - in a non-violent way, he clarified in his head. And... she had been nice. Repaired him. (And he'd just insulted her right to her face.)

But the fact remained, she was right. And he guessed working for her wasn't bad either. He couldn't go home. Not like this. Not at all. So he supposed his only option was to...

"I'll do it," he muttered. His head hurt, all of this thinking and all of these emotions buzzing about his processor, it was all so much - too much - to handle. He avoided making direct eye contact, but he looked at her.

His only option was to stay here.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- reacted like that," he added quietly.

Bumblebee then walked over and took the screwdriver from her hand, somewhat forcefully, an action that would make anyone assume the worst. But he just got right back to working on her, unscrewing the panel on her other shoulder. Then he picked up the solder. He was dead silent as he worked. It was better this way.

And once again, the smile returned. "I knew you would listen to reason."

With the missile launchers in her shoulders now, she got up to stretch, moving them around and getting used to the additional weight. She walked out of the room towards the big open gap in the wall in the hallway, and fired a test shot outside. The giant explosion shook the ground. Very nice. As one last test, she did a quick transformation to see how well they'd fit, and some light discomfort aside, they folded up just as smoothly.

This should have no issue taking out Optimus and his crew if she were to get caught.

"I'll give these a test fly. Considering you are a grown Decepticon now, I would hope I don't need to babysit you." She took off, headed to the Earth to pay certain bots a very short and quick visit.

Bumblebee followed shortly behind her, then jumped a tad as the missile went off. He supposed he wasn't expecting the explosion to be... that big. He was going to have to get used to it, though. Considering he... worked for her now. He had a lot to think about. 

In Starscream's absence he decided he would make himself useful and tidy around the place. He would start with clearing up some of the debris, then he'd clean the controls, dust generally here and there, and he thought it would be useful to start working on some other parts of the ship to get them up and running. He debated visiting the engine, to see if he could salvage anything, but... maybe next time.

She called him a 'grown Decepticon'. He shuddered. It sounded so wrong, but he supposed that... well, he knew that now, that was correct. 

After he finished his first sweep of the ship, Bumblebee wondered what to do with himself. He decided to explore, visiting all the parts of the ship he hadn't yet. He was walking past some glass, when he noticed his reflection, and paused to look. He had a mainly neutral expression on his face. 

He didn't look very much like a Decepticon. He didn't feel very much like a Decepticon.

...But he really didn't feel like an Autobot, either. 

He glanced at the insignia on his chest, but tore his gaze away. He couldn't look at it.

He decided to head outside, to the site where Starscream had fired the missile. He found moondust and rocks, blackened by the grand explosion. He dipped his fingers into the black, picking up a small stone. He laughed softly. It was almost symbolic - going into the darkness and destroying the light. 

Bumblebee looked down, and scored out the insignia; an ugly, black cross now marking his paint and the symbol he once wore so proudly. But to them, he's a failure. So be it.

Chapter Text

By the time Starscream returned, much time had passed. Maybe it's just that travelling from the Moon to the Earth and back wasn't quick even as a top speed space jet, but much more likely - judging by the smoking wound in her chest - something happened while she was there.

She landed roughly, only transforming after she was already tumbling across the surface like a ball. She knew Bumblebee left the ship not too long ago, so she looked around outside first to see if she could spot him. Sure enough, standing by a crater was her newest recruit.

Despite the damage, she was able to get up relatively easily. It looked grotesque, considering the wound clearly pierced where a spark normally would be, but that's the lucky part - since she didn't have one anyway, nothing that mattered was injured.

Got Optimus to thank for that. Reminder to self: do not let Bumblebee get even near the Earth. Having a secretary at base would be just as handy.

"The upgrade was a success," she grinned, approaching him. "Nice new paint on the chest, by the way. Couldn't wait for me to return? Let's go and get you your new insignia inside," she said as she grabbed him by the servo and dragged him back towards the ship.

When Bumblebee heard her as she was approaching, he spun around, cleaning the dirt off his fingers and looking expectantly at her and holy slag is that a massive hole in her chest??? Where was her spark? What?? What is going on?? 

"Are you okay??-- woaH-" Bumblebee began, before he was whisked away back to the ship by the larger Decepticon. Okay, she was strong, she dragged him like he was a feather.  "What happened to you?? What did you do?? How are you online???" he asked in quick succession, staring in concern at Starscream, optics flicking between her smoking, gaping chest wound and her face. 

Insignia? Already? Was he even ready? Surely crossing... this one out for now was enough. It was fair, he concluded. Couldn't be a Decepticon with Autobot insignia on your chassis. It made sense. But he didn't know if he was ready. 

Well, he had to be. Because here he went.

When they came to a stop inside the ship he immediately went to check out Starscream's injury (if she let him). "What?? How are you-??" he asked, confused, staring up at her, and wow she was tall. "Explain???" he almost begged, the concern now evident from his tone. Okay Bumblebee, you basically only just started working for her, and liking-... tolerating her, and now you're practically crying for her. Because, if she offlined, then, what would he do?

"Will you just stop asking questions already? I'll fix it myself, I can reach my chest just fine thank you!" she brushed him off, annoyed at the excessive begging. She wasn't doubting the alliance, why does he feel the need to fawn and pretend he cares so much? There isn't anything he could possibly be hiding.

The insignia is not something you want to mess up. It is not something you can just craft out of some trash and slap onto yourself, or paint onto yourself like a protoform's drawing. But they didn't have branding sticks here, and she especially wouldn't be able to steal them from Megatron right now, so they would have to get creative. Luckily, the Decepticon symbol was pretty much on every surface of the ship, most notably on the back of the control panel. With a mould out of flexible foam and a bit of quickly-hardening metal, there it was. Her new recruitment tool.

While the freshly crafted branding stick was heating up, she wiped Bumblebee's chest with a rag, then peeled off the Autobot sticker. "While I appreciate the eagerness, did you have to use something this dirty? At least most of it came off with the sticker, ugh... Whatever, let's get you on the Decepticon comm frequency first. Give me your servo.”

"But- but you're-??" Okay, so, Starscream didn't care, so he guessed he was just meant to ignore it? Sure, okay, whatever, apparently this is normal now. Sure. Had he confirmed he wasn't dreaming, actually? Maybe he was still floating through space, and he'd conjured up some crazy story. 

"Uuh, sorry," he said about crossing out the insignia. He didn't really know why he did it. He was too ashamed to look at it, there on his chest, a constant reminder; but he was also too scared to completely remove it. There was no going back now. And she probably wouldn't let that happen anyway. No point in worrying about it. He did hope the branding didn't hurt...too much, anyway.

Bumblebee did as he was told (good?) and held out his servo to her. Putting him on the Decepticon comm frequency... would this mean he would hear other Decepticons, too, if they were close enough? That would have been useful if he was still... no, he couldn't think about that now. He was too far gone. Far, far gone. He had to take it how it was, now. He had to be confident. He had to be sure. This was it now. He looked up at the other Decepticon. "Are you sure you're okay...?" he began, staring at her chest. Okay, Bumblebee, that's nice.

Her claws curled tightly around his hand. Squeezed too tightly, in fact, as she was seething with anger. "Will people ever stop asking me if I'm okay? It's a pointless question, why don't you use your optics and figure out yourself if I'm okay or not! Why do YOU care?! I'm alive, immortal, can't die! Considering it didn't even hit anything actually useful, my repairs are far down on the list of priorities!"

Having vented out some of the frustration, she relaxed her grip a bit and winced at the damage she just left in Bumblebee's hand. Right. Who needs tools when your claws pierce metal just fine.

Opening it up properly, with tools, she was greeted to a familiar sight. She took the snapped wire and attached a data connector to it, then brought her own servo up close. Making an identical cut on herself, she connected the two of them for a moment to upload the encrypted connection codes.

Hopefully he didn't question why that wire was snapped in the first place.

"Try it out before I separate us. Say anything." she spoke into the link, and with the proximity they were in, her voice echoed. Twice, even.

Bumblebee flinched, feeling her claws digging into him. He didn't say anything though, and just let it happen. Alive, immortal, can't die? Wow, okay. That's... okay, cool. Good to know? Bumblebee nodded, mumbling an apology for... being too concerned about her wellbeing (he didn't add that though). She asked why did he care... did Decepticons not... care, for their teammates, like he did with his... former teammates? It seemed that that mustn't be a thing that Decepticons are worried about often. Each other's wellbeing and health. That didn't sound like a very healthy working environment... he hummed once to himself, thinking.

When it came to the actual act of adding him to the comm frequency, he watched very closely, but didn't seem to notice that the wire was pre-cut, thankfully for Starscream. He nodded when she was finished, and, not knowing what to say, even though she did say to say anything, said "uuhh, do you have any games up here," then immediately regretted his decision because why would he say that she's going to think he's stupid now. "Sorry, I mean.. hi, testing," he added quickly afterwards, turning a darker shade out of embarrassment, even though he would probably be the only one who would care about what he said. Stupid little bot.

His life was going to be very, very different. He wasn't sure if he was prepared. He hadn't had a lot of time to think about it, in comparison to when he was floating around in the void. He had plenty of time then, to come to the conclusion that his crew wasn't coming to help him, and to sort of come to terms with that fact (but not really). At least now he had.

He wondered what Starscream had done to get blasted in the chest like this. She'd obviously gone to Earth, he thought. This thought worried him. What had she done down there? Had she met the Autobots? Obviously she must have, who else would really be powerful enough to blast a hole in her like that? What did she do, what did she say? He worried that she'd talked about him, being a traitor and all, just to really rub it in that Bumblebee was a bad bot.

She chuckled. "Maybe we do have games here. Let me check." She cut the connection after hearing the confirmation that it was working properly echo in her head. Would it perhaps be possible to...?

She closed her optics and focused. Despite them being closed, she could still see. Checking each of her rooms, starting with where the lounge used to be. Not there. Living quarters? Megatron's office has been emptied out. Bitzwing's empty too. Most of the storage hull has been completely blown away. Security...?

Someone must have been really bored on shift. "Found it. It's your lucky day. Take a turn to the right and downstairs, you'll find a knocked over space chess set by the broken monitors, bring it here." She lost a game of it to Blackarachnia once. Loser would have been forbidden from speaking unless spoken to for five solar cycles, but of course, she didn't honour the winning terms. Mostly though, it was Blitzwing who liked to play the game, because he didn't need an opponent for it. He simply took turns with his own selves.

The smoke coming from the kiln behind them reminded her. "After we're done with your inauguration, of course." She took the stick with one hand, and pinned Bumblebee down with another, just in case he was a wriggler. Didn't want to mess up something this important.

Sorry, little one. This will hurt.

Bumblebee brightened up a bit. His fumble was actually beneficial!!! He watched her, interested as to why she was so deep in concentration. Was she trying to remember what they had? Maybe they'd have Ninja Gladiator, or racing games, or other fighters. He was hoping for anything like that! Maybe they had so many games she was trying to make a mental list of them all!

But then she said it was... space chess. Literally who plays space chess anymore? "Uhhh okay sure," he said, not wanting to complain or be  annoying. "But I don't know if I've ever played it? Do you not have any uhh, video games? Oooor, anything else?" he then asked, hopeful. But just how did she know the exact location and the exact state of the space chess set...? Oh well-

And then she was pinning him down. And then he was being pinned down. Oh. So this was it. He stared up at the brand, then at Starscream, optics widening, because now it was real, and it was happening, and it was red hot. And she was looming above him, and it was scary, but also something else that he wouldn't admit to anyone, especially not her. "Uuuhh," he began, "Hooww much did you say this was gonna hurt again?" There was an air of panic to his voice, as he gripped onto whatever surface he could find near him with both servos. He decided it would be best if he braced himself, so brace he did, shutting his optics tight and tilting his head to the side, wincing already before anything had even happened.

The iron of the insignia pressed hard against his chest, burning through the metal. 

It burns. It burns. It burns and it hurts so bad and it maybe wouldn't be as bad if he could at least move, but Starscream held him tight, feeling his each twitch and struggle under her claws. The desperation. The paint of his metal itself darkening from the heat sinking into it. Not to mention the noises, the expression, the intimacy of the two of them sharing this important moment together, all alone. She was absolutely a horrible sadist for this, but out of selfishness, she must admit - she pressed down for longer than was needed. He wouldn't know.

When she let go, the raw metal shined purple, reflecting the colour of the room's light. And just like the first time they met, over the same surface she repaired him on then, her silhouette cast the same shadow.

She wiped the spot with the rag from before. "All done! Wasn't so bad, now was it?" she said, knowing full well how bad it was. 

"Now go grab the set and I'll teach you the rules. I don't play video games.”

When the iron touched his chest he let out a bloodcurdling yell. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't that. Bumblebee's servos dug into the surface below him, hard enough to warp the metal, but his fingers weren't sharp enough, weren't claw-like enough, to pierce it like Starscream probably would. The agony he was in was unbearable, as he let out another scream, his voice breaking, and the brand was so, so hot, and he was so, so hot, and he couldn't escape, and it was pressing in deeper and deeper. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't do it. He needed out. 

His optics shot open, now a new, bright, toxic red, staring up into Starscream's face. It terrified him, seeing her staring down at him like that, hungry and intense, like he was an experiment, like she was deeply fascinated by his every reaction, by his every noise and wince in reaction to the brand shifting even a millimetre on his chest. Was she enjoying this? His optics slammed shut tight again.

And then it was gone, leaving a horrible sensation behind. It lingered on him and it wasn't leaving anytime soon and he hated it. He was in so much pain. Bumblebee was breathing heavily, each gasp catching in his throat and threatening to choke him. He looked up at her, and there it was, that same silhouette. How the times had changed, in such quick succession. But one thing had remained - he was still deathly terrified. 

Was he just supposed to move on like everything was normal now? He still hurt. He was expected to move on? He couldn't understand how anyone could allow themselves to go through that. 

And now he was meant to go and get the chess set, but could he even move? He tried to push up, arms shaking, and just about managed it. This was when he caught a glimpse of himself, looking down at his feet, his once bright yellow paint now a much darker shade. He shuddered. His gaze shifting more northerly, there it was, that purple insignia branding him. He let out a shaky breath, having calmed down now. That was it. It was done.

Stumbling off and onto his feet, he clenched and unclenched his servos into fists, flexing every finger and every limb. He felt... energised, somehow. Adrenaline surging through him, he felt anew.

He nodded, silently, and hopefully remembering the instructions correctly, he headed out to retrieve the chess set. Turning right, heading down the stairs, each foot out in front of him set down shakily, energy coursing through him. In better condition he would have stirred up a fuss about the lack of video games. He really had to get her on Street Fighter... he would totally beat her aft...

...Respectfully.

Bumblebee was probably too shaken to notice, and she's been focused on much more important business too, but now that the both of them were done, her attention has finally been drawn to the slippery puddle underneath her.

Ah. It appears she has forgotten that she was leaking hydraulic fluid from the sparkchamber wound. Wonderful.

She wondered how little of her would need to be left before she would officially count as dead, with this fragment keeping her mind still online. This didn't matter, because she wasn't planning on getting blown to little pieces anytime soon, and was in fact already reaching for the welding tool. The cockpit glass would take a while to find replacement for, but at least she could seal off the leaking pistons and tubes.

Getting up, the loss of hydrofluid must have been getting to her circuits, because she felt dizzy. Doesn't matter. She pulled her chair closer to the slab, and set up the nearest crate between the two so that her and Bumblebee would be able to place the chess set on its top. She'll force him to clean that spill later.

Bumblebee returned shortly after with the chess set. He hadn't found a box for it or anything so he was balancing it dangerously like some sort of waitress with too many drinks on thier tray. "Got it!" he said, as cheerily as he could after being in immense amounts of pain. He dropped a pawn or two. "Slag," he mumbled, moving to set the board and remaining chess pieces down before attempting to pick the stragglers up. He didn't notice the puddle. 

The Decepticon sat down on the slab, looking at all of the pieces in front of him with confusion. He had no idea what any of them did. He preferred videogames. He never bothered with anything like this. Prowl probably would have. 

....Prowl...

He cleared his throat, moving on. "So, uhh, you're probably gonna have a hard time teaching me, because I've never played anything like this before...and again just to clarify you're one hundred percent sure there's no actual games on board, right?.." he added, quieter than his first sentence, because in his mind volume equalled annoying. 

He picked up a piece. "What does this guy do? Or this guy?" he added, pointing at another on the board. "Well, I'm assuming you get one colour and I get the other. If I'm black can my guys only go on the black squares?”

"The only computers on board that survived the crash are in the control console behind me. And I am not letting you snoop around on my computer, even if I am relatively certain that you don't even know Decepticon Cybertronian script."

She adjusted the pieces back to their places and smiled. "How about I explain the rules to you as we play? White goes first."

Queenside Pawn to D4. "These pieces are the disposables. They can only move forward, one square at a time. They may make a double move such as this one as their first, to let themselves think they're heroes that achieved something, but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, because they're not special.”

Bumblebee nodded, absolutely not taking any of that in. "Okay, so I cannnn.. move this guy two spaces forward, like this?" he asked, grabbing the pawn next to one of what he would intelligently call The Horses and moving it to B5. "Is that it? Is that all I do now?" He paused for a moment, "Can they kill other guys?" 

Bumblebee steepled his fingers once he'd made his move to try and appear more intelligent. He sat back and looked at the board as if analysing it, because he was pretty sure that that was what people did when playing chess, and he wanted to look smart and act like he knew what he was doing.

"They can, but only diagonally, when passing another pawn, or when going back in time to kill their past self." Moving a pawn that was this close to the edge and blocked all the good pieces was a ridiculous move. She giggled.

Using the new opening, she advanced her bishop to F4. "This one is a preacher. It moves diagonally, attacking everyone and everything in its path, even the ones it loves. It can disguise itself as other pieces, but only once reaching the top rank.”

"passing another pawn, going back in time, okay.." he mumbled to himself, repeating what she'd said to try and remember all the rules. Bumblebee could tell that all of this was going to go in one audial and out the other, but he was going to try his best. 

He nodded along to her explanation for the next piece, "Preacher, okay... so, what can this guy do?" he asked, tapping the knight that was beside the pawn he had moved. He had debated moving his own bishop, but there was only so far it could go before the end of the board, so he wasn't sure how useful it would be.

"The unpredictable fighter. His attack patterns go forward twice, but always end up steering to the side in the end. Even though there's three of them on the board, in the 5th dimension they all act as one. Meaning, if you make a move with one, the rest will follow.”

What. Fifth dimension? The rest will follow? His processor was melting. "Oookay, so, can I, move it here...? What do that do?" he asked, a bit confused, moving the knight to C6. "There's too many rules, I think I'm gonna forget everything moments after hearing it," Bumblebee whined, no longer steepled, and instead resting his head on a propped up fist, half-crossing his other available arm across his chest. "I know I wanted to play games, but this is not what I had in mind..." They'd only just started and it was already too much for him. Poor thing.

"Wait, but we're just getting to the good part! See, by putting the knight over there, you're threatening to take my pawn! Now, of course, I'm not going to let you take it - I'll instead move it one timeline over, still on D4 but in a parallel dimension. That's where this side board comes out," she pulled out a side compartment, where sure enough, there was an only slightly smaller checkerboard grid board to temporarily store your pieces on.

"Now, as per the rules of the queen, she will also be cloned to any new timelines, dimensions, or paradox pocket realities that will be created throughout the game. They can be moved across boards, but watch out- you're not listening, are you?"

She sighed. Not like it was fun to play against an opponent that couldn't fight back. "Fine. If you can install or run a game on my computer, I'd be genuinely impressed at that point.”

Bumblebee was sputtering trying to keep up. Parallel dimension? Side board? Pocket realities? Is this some form of torture nexus he's being put through, is that it? He must be dreaming then, because he has no idea what's going on and it's all nonsensical and confusing so it mustn't be real because if this was real who would want to ever take part? 

He zoned back in. Starscream just mentioned her computer. Now that's more like it. His face lit up immediately. 

"Oh, I can sure try," he said, a grin growing on his face. Setting down the pawn he'd apparently been fidgeting with, Bumblebee stood and walked over to the computer, stretching and cracking his neck and knuckles as if preparing for pro boxing or wrestling or something to that effect - one of those fighting shows that Sari had shown him. "And hopefully I will succeed.”

Seeing his face light up like that was... cute. Adorable, even. 

Walking over, she turned on the computer, and a greeting message appeared in Decepticon. She waited just long enough to see his reaction, snickering even more at his cute incompetence at something as simple as reading, before deciding to show some mercy. "Let me change the system language to Autobot Cybertronian."

She'd be watching him over the shoulder the entire time, and not like this computer had much important information on it anyway. Mostly just the controls, and access to the same global Teletraan-1 network as the Autobots did.

"Oh- heh, thanks, because I had no idea what that said," he laughed a bit, excited now because Gaming, a smile on his face. Then he added, "You should probably teach me Decepticon Cybertronian, y'know, considering..." He trailed off, because it was obvious what he meant. "Okay, so.. if I do this, then hopefully..." He clicked a few buttons on the keyboard, hit a few combinations, typed in a few codes, and a mainly blank screen came up which he seemed very happy about. "Yessss," he hissed, grinning. 

"Okay, here. What type of game would you probably like? I know you said you don't play 'em but just, anything, something you'd be interested in. Or I could think of one you'd probably like," Bumblebee offered, looking at Starscream with a smile, selecting what seemed to be a search bar in the middle of the screen. What could he say? He was a bit of a professional at 'sailing the seven seas'. He liked that phrase. He giggled to himself then realised it probably looked stupid because he was laughing at nothing but his thoughts.

This, this was good. This type of thing he could get used to. Games! The best way to befriend someone. He then realised what he'd just thought. Befriend... befriend Starscream. He was thinking too fast for his logic and common sense to catch up. Yes, that's definitely something he should be doing, considering... again, the obvious. But he was suddenly so comfortable with it, and doing it, and that felt odd to him. The way he was suddenly so... okay with all of this.

The power of games...? Sure, what the frag.

She scratched her rather large chin in thought. "Well, a bit hard to answer considering I'm unfamiliar with what types of games there are. Maybe... strategy? Anything to do with ruling over people, or flying? I like the things I'm good at."

Still a bit too dizzy to stand, and unhappy with sacrificing the chair to Bumblebee, she decided she had enough and picked him up. Then, comfortably situated in her seat (and no one else's), she placed him in her lap. "You were a bit too short to comfortably type on that keyboard, anyway," she teased.

Bumblebee nodded, thinking about potential games he could get Starscream to play that met these parameters, and then he was being lifted, and then he was in her lap. Okay, this is fine, it's not like he's freaked out about other similar forms of close contact with other bots in his life at all. It's not like he's sitting in the lap of a much larger Decepticon than him. He huffed at her teasing, crossing his arms in protest with a disapproving expression (he was not too short...). 

It's not like- oh, slag, he forgot about her chest wound that he was now leaning against. He was just about to get back to searching for games, but he turned back to look at Starscream instead.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you about.. that??" he asked, gesturing, looking down at the wound and back up at her face. "Because I don't want to- sit against it, because it's, y'know... a massive hole in your chest?”

"Huh-?" She looked down, head still spinning. Flow to the motion sensors must have been cut off. "Oh, don't be whiny. I'm not that uncomfortable to lean on. I've sealed off most of the leaking already." Even her voice came off as groggy. If she were completely honest, she was tired, really tired. But she had all the energy she needed. So it wasn't a real tired, more like just her circuits telling her she should be tired by now, but not accounting for the fact that she had a constant supply of energy now.

Idly, she gently scratched and petted the top of Bumblebee's head, seemingly barely noticing that she was even doing it. Like if he were a pet.

"No no I'm not thinking you're uncomfortable to me I was thinking that I'd be uncomfortable to you--" he began, then was essentially silenced when her servo touched his head. He stared at her, a red tinge blossoming across the entirety of his face plate.

Okay. Okay. Okay. So. This is. Okay. This is okay! This is- this must be normal, for, Decepticons?? Why the frag would this be normal, what is going on? 

Should he say something? Do something? Let her realise what she was doing? Would she realise? She didn't look like she would. Maybe he should say something. Anything. You got this Bumblebee. You can do it. Speak to Starscream, who's currently scratching and petting the top of his head, and not doing a bad job at it actually, so maybe he'll just leave it be...

But this was weird, right? This couldn't be normal. In any circumstance. He began to wonder, would Starscream be mad that he didn't stop her? That he let her do this when she probably wouldn't want to if she was in a better state of mind? He glanced around the room, looking for anything that could help him, which, of course there was nothing. But that was when he noticed the puddle on the floor. Oh. That could not be good. 

"Uuuh, Starscream?..." he began quietly, not wanting to disturb her, probably. "Are you- was that, you? The uh, puddle? Do you- can I- um," he kept trying to say more things but failed because ultimately he was currently short circuiting. "Um," he added intelligently. "I think I should probably- you sound really tired," he added, justifying his blabbering and concern, "I think you should probably rest, like, take a stasis nap, or, or something, at least.." 

An important thing to note was that not once did he try to move away from her servo.

"Do you plan on teaching me video games or not," she said, giving scritchies to the horns now. She wondered if his would grow and fall out every now and then, like Shockwave's. And how curious, that unlike any of the other Decepticons, this one just allowed her to do this with no fuss. Maybe he was enjoying being a pet.

"You seem suspiciously insistent on suggesting I go into stasis or recharge. Here's a tip: try being a little bit more subtle next time." Frankly, his extremely obvious attempt to make her vulnerable and stab her in her sleep was just as adorable, too. And while this is a form of insubordination, it was just so laughable that she couldn't take it seriously.

Is this how Megatron felt? Her servo locked up briefly. 

Maybe if he wasn't going to stop asking about it, she should just go and take care of this damage. She looked around the ship again, zoning out with the help of the calming petting motions. There was some relatively intact glass panelling where one of the observation hallways used to be. A bit too thick for her frame, and a radically different black compared to her usual orange. "It'll have to do."

She tried to reach for it and grab it with her free hand. All she grabbed was air. Jolting back to her usual body, she shook her head to clear out the fog and lock the fuck in. Embarrassing.

"I'm fine." No one asked. "I found the replacement glass already. I'll put it in later. Right now we game.”

“Yeah I plan on teaching you video games I just don’t wanna hurt you I dunno,” Bumblebee mumbled under his breath. “Is that so bad,” he added in a quiet grumble that he didn’t intend for her to hear but she was right beside him. 

But sure, he’d move on. Maybe he was so insistent on getting Starscream fixed up and rested because he knows what it’s like for people to be injured like that and it’s really not fun. So many times Sari’s fixed people up with her key, but this time there was no key. 

“Suspicious?” he then asked, confused and looking slightly annoyed, “You remember I just did the, like? unwavering loyalty pledge thing to you by getting branded by that super painful stick, like ow?” He didn’t know why Starscream thought he was out to get her when all of this had just happened. Why even go through the ordeal of, becoming a Decepticon, just to try offline her…? He noticed the pause in the pets, and wondered what she was thinking. Then he wondered what she was saying. Talking to herself, okay, cool, did he just sign up to being employed by someone that talked to herself? Not that he didn’t do that sometimes, but the traditional image of a Decepticon in his head did usually involve some weird things like that, but… He couldn’t really trust that, now, could he?

He glanced to the side- what was she?? Grabbing? Okay, this had to be some form of delirium or something, he really wanted to…

He huffed. “Okay, fine, I guess for now we game. But when we’re done, you should go do that,” he said, which was a bit funny to him because he realised he was basically ordering around his now-superior. “I can help, if you want, too. You know how good my repairs are,” he added with a prideful smirk. That’s better. Be more confident.

Yeah, she knew very well from the way he "repaired" her engine back there. With confusion, she tried to figure out what the pledge of loyalty thing had to do with anything they were talking about. Wait, was he trying to imply that he didn't intend on offlining his freshly-appointed leader just because of some stupid pledge?

The colourful covers of the available games catalogue were kind of sickening to look at. Fluent in Autobot, she tried to pick a title that sounded appealing. "World of Warcrack"? "TeamFormers 2"? "Alongside Us: Deluxe Edition"? What?

"Don't they just have something simple, like space poker? Although I'm not sure how one would implement the stripping mechanic in a video game…”

The answer to that question was yes. 

Bumblebee hummed, thinking hard about what game to put on. “Space poker, huh? So, gambling then, okay…” he said to himself, humming again. Strategy, ruling over people, gambling… “Maybe they could involve the- stripping mechanic?- if they added video cameras and made it multiplayer…” he mumbled, just thinking generally and answering questions because why not, he was interested in games and liked to be helpful. Then, he got it. Yes. That was it.

Bumblebee wordlessly typed something into the search bar, cheering a little when the desired result, and only the desired result, appeared. “Boom,” he said, pointing to a colourful game where there were human girls with horse ears in pretty dresses and outfits. 

“I want you to play this. It’s called, uhh… okay its name is unimportant. I’ve seen Sari play it -” and that was all he’d say about her “- it’s basically about training these human girls that run races for you. And you can gamble and get better ones that have better ranks that can run better races. They’re like horses- do you, know what horses are? Humans make them run and they all bet money on them, it’s really high stakes. You can win, like, a lot. Riches, like being a Decepticon, probably.”

He looked at her, a smart smile-bordering-smirk on his face. “You’re probably thinking, oh this is too cutesy for me, but trust me, you can do whatever you want to them.. within the parameters of the game obviously. When they do too much training they’ll get tired and usually you rest them so they perform better -” Pointed look. “- but I guess you don’t have to? Probably not that you’d care, but the animations and graphics are really good too. I haven’t played it myself, just watched it, so, we can both try it,” he paused to take a breath because he’d been talking a lot. “If, that is, you wanna…?” he asked, looking up at her expectantly.

This was doing some cocomelon shit to her. Whatever it was on her screen right now, it was making her nauseous. But a morbid fascination creeped over her - forcing puny organics to race for money...? That did sound fun... 

"So how do they race if they can't transform then? Can I break their legs and watch them crawl to the finish line in agony? Or is it the boring Autobot kind of racing?" She tapped a few random buttons to see what they would do, struggling to navigate the menus. "It's all in some human language. Can you really read this stuff? Ugh." Accidentally, purely by messing around, she clicked on something that started a race. "Oh. So they just run in their botmodes. I was thinking maybe they could transform into, uh... what'd you call them, horses? What's a horse anyway?"

She tabbed out of the game, typing "horse" into the search bar, then began reading the Biopedia data entry. Fascinating. An organic that was precisely engineered to be as fast as possible through primitive genetic selection methods. As she remembered how good it felt to fly around in the gentle atmosphere of Earth, the wind lifting her by the wings, she imagined it must be at least a bit similar to how it would feel to be a horse. Her wings fluttered in delight.

Next, she typed "horse racing" into the search, and soon enough she was on betting websites. Now we're talking. Do these websites take energon as currency…?

“Uhh they just sort of run like that, yeah, but you didn’t even get to the training bit I was talking about..” Bumblebee murmured, watching what she was doing. “The humans ride horses sometimes to make them go faster,” he then added louder, a piece of trivia he actually knew. He was happy he was even just a bit knowledgeable about something that seemed to interest her. 

He followed along with what she was reading, but at a slower pace because he wasn’t that brushed up on reading longer entries like this and his attention span was kind of short. Occasionally he’d glance back to see her face to see how she was reacting to the information, which was when he saw her wings flutter. Huh. Is that a good thing? 

Looking back, she was on the betting sites. “Yeah, this is what I was talking about. Here, let me see if I can..” he began, taking the mouse and clicking through a few pages until he found livestreams of the races. “Here! There’s one about to start. They have such weird names, though. ‘GeeSpot’? ‘Horsey.. McHorse..face’…? I don’t know how the humans come up with all these..” He laughed a bit.

"Gee-Spot? Yeah, I know a lot about g-spots..." she chuckled once again to herself, and it kind of just hit her how strange this was. It wasn't her usual laugh. It was softer. Relaxed. Having fun at no one's expense. Having... fun?

With another con comfortably in her hands. In her lap, even. Doing nothing of importance, simply spending time together even though they could be working on something important. Wasting time, sure, but... with no pressing matters to attend to that couldn't wait. No one about to intrude on their base, no one that could possibly sneak up on them. Not... alone, for once, either. Just the two of them.

Something wasn't right. It was too good to be true. But she couldn't figure out what the trap was, and it was a repeat of the same situation as back at the engine all over again. If he was comfortable like this, with her claws touching his head, able to crush him any moment she wanted; if he was able to lure her into a sense of security in return, so charming with his sweet and innocent looks; if she couldn't for the life of her figure out his intent with any of this-

Something wasn't right. Or, maybe, it was too right.

Ashamed of her own laugh now, her face quickly flushed an extremely obvious dark purple and the shadows under her eyes deepened, wings stiff again. "We shouldn't be wasting time on this." She turned off the computer, locking it down with a password, brushed Bumblebee off her lap and grabbed the bag. "I'm going to finally do my repairs. You can clean up the hydrofluid and go recharge yourself while I'm gone. Tomorrow will be planning day.”

“Oh,” was all Bumblebee said, dejected, as he was pushed off her lap. He’d watched her face flush so quickly, and such a deep purple too. Was she embarrassed that she was having fun, or something? He felt bad now, like he’d done something he shouldn’t have, even though he knew that he didn’t. It wasn’t his fault, right?

He was happy she was going to do her repairs, at least, like he’d been asking, but their time had been cut so short, and he’d been pushed away. He thought he was doing a good job…? He didn’t argue, though. She seemed to not be in the best mood to be argued with, he didn’t want to get yelled at or something. He just wanted to be helpful, so he said, “Okay,” and got to work grabbing some utensils best suited to cleaning hydrofluid spills. He didn’t want to mess up and get abandoned again. He had to do his best. 

A planning day.. he was interested to see what she meant by that. It made sense, Decepticons having plans, just like how Autobots would. He guessed he’d have to see how that went tomorrow. In the meantime, he cleaned away at the spot on the floor. Then he’d go recharge…left to his own devices, left with his own thoughts. Alone, again. Maybe he should try and get used to this, this being alone - to prepare for any and all possible eventualities.

She has to kill Bumblebee.

Yes, she just made him a full proper Decepticon. But that was precisely the scary part - he was gaining her trust too quickly, growing on her. So she has to kill him, and quick, before he does any lasting damage. 

Maybe use him as live bait for a trap for the Autobots? Something was telling her that her plans would just get foiled again if she tried it. Send him to fight Megatron for her, a certain death sentence? If she couldn't finish that buckethead off herself then why would some orange insect have any better luck. He knows too much about her, has seen too many of her vulnerabilities. And again, she reminded herself - don't let him anywhere near either of her enemies. She'd lose him immediately-

Which is EXACTLY WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO DO, IDIOT! LOSE HIM! GET RID OF HIM NO MATTER THE COST!

Okay, okay. Fine. Think clearly. Is there anything, anything at all in the whole wide galaxy that he could still be useful for? Any reason why she shouldn't just blast him in the face herself? There's still that whole orbital lazer idea - sure, the engine is damaged, but perhaps not beyond repair. That would simply take too long to fix on her own, but having an ex-maintenance bot around- would just sabotage her and make the process even slower. Don't be ridiculous. He has no reasons to help you.

No. No, have confidence in yourself, Starscream. You're a brilliant manipulator, and it would be a piece of cake to convince a primed-up ex-Autobot like him to take revenge on his past colleagues. Furthermore, he had his own moments of vulnerability - that little thing he expressed about swearing loyalty to her? She could test that. Have him join her in an ambush on Megatron, then see how well he fairs. The Autobots always seemed to have supernatural levels of luck when going against the Decepticons, so perhaps he retains this quality still. Don't waste your own efforts here. You're doing great. Use him.

The shiny new cockpit left a tightness in her chest. Where'd all this paranoia come from? Why was she so restless, confused and meandering around him? Why did the thought of pointing a gun at his face and just shooting him blank feel so repulsive? Has she gone soft?

And why wasn't he...?

...

From the other end of the ship, she watched him, unknown to him. Listened in on the hum and rumble of his engine as he lied, curled up on the slab. Such a fragile and gentle con, with such a fascinating and bewildering mind. If they were to go on a mission to Earth, she wouldn't be able to watch him at all times. But they couldn't stay forever on this rusting crash site. What are you dreaming of, little bee?

The only way to save yourself the grief of losing people is to desensitize yourself to this loss. It is frankly ridiculous that she would fall prey to this ages old trap. So she means it with her whole spark (or lack thereof) when she says this - she hopes she doesn't miss him when he's gone.

Bumblebee was adrift in space, floating aimlessly. He'd been ejected from Sentinel's Elite Guard ship mere moments ago, and panic was setting in. Had he really just been left like that? Had he really been so wrong, to be punished like this? He watched the ship zip away out into nothing, far into the distance, and he was all alone. He tested out his comms, begging, asking for anyone to hear him, to find him, to help him, but all he heard was static, crushing his mind, filling his processor, and he couldn't escape it even if he cut the connection. A deafening buzzing and crackling sound filled his every nook and cranny, threatening to consume him like the blackness of the void around him.

He shut his optics tight, and when he opened them again, there was not even a star in the abyss around him, and the silence of space was deafening. The complete absence of noise, suffocating him, it was all so overwhelmingly nothing. There was not a single planet in sight. No debris, no satellites, no stars, dying or otherwise. Nothing. He was alone, forever, and he was never going back home again. Visions plagued him, his former friends' laughter at his misery, poking fun at his inability to escape the vast blackness he was surrounded by, attacking him and his character, his personality and his traits, belittling his skills and his accomplishments, and highlighting all of his failures and shortcomings. Optimus, Bulkhead, Prowl, Ratchet, even Sari had something to say about his poor excuse for an existence. 

And then there was a new voice. Her voice.

Shaming him for who he was, for what he had done (and in the context of the dream, had yet to do). Laughing at him. For some reason, it stung all the more. The knowledge that this once-stranger had only taken him in and was already so ashamed to say she knew him crushed Bumblebee. When he opened his mouth to gasp, the vastness of the void threatened to choke him, and he couldn't breathe, and he was drowning in a sea of nothing with nobody to turn to and nowhere to go. He was surrounded on all sides and he was going to die here, this was how he died, it was going to be painful and excruciating but nobody would care so why should he? 

A last ditch effort. The con opened his mouth to scream, some of the inky darkness returning from whence it came, but more seeped in through into his very core, strangling him, and he struggled and twitched and writhed and--

Bumblebee awoke, suddenly, shooting up from the slab, and another bloodcurdling scream wrenched and clawed its way out of his vocaliser, scoring him deep inside. But this yell, this outcry, it felt much more personal, like he was much, much more terrified than he ever had been. He held himself, tight, carving and digging lines and scores into his finish with newly sharpened claw-like fingers. He looked around, optics flitting from one point to the next, and unconsciously began to rock himself as if to self-soothe, but it wasn't working, and his panic wasn't subsiding, and he was going to drown all over again in this strange new place with nobody to help him and nobody that cared. Nobody cared, and he was going to die alone and be forgotten, and nobody could help him. He tried to focus on something, anything, to distract himself from his thoughts, from his fears deep inside, but nothing was working, and he was going to die alone, and it was all his fault.

The scream shook her entirely out of her spiral, and before she could think twice about it, she was already flying through the hallways towards it. 

Guns on the ready, she popped her main blasters up, looking around frantically with all of her eyes at once for any sign of a threat. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't find the source of the threat, what it could possibly be that scared Bee-

You fucking idiot. You utter buffoon. You dumb as bolts washed out fool. You fell for another one of his ruses, haven't you? Another little mind game, another proof that you do care, for him to use against you.

"Where are the intruders," she snarled through gritted teeth. She must make sure that he knows, she didn't come to rescue him, she only came because this is her ship, her safety that's on the line. This is an entirely selfish act. 

It appears that shoving blasters into Bumblebee's face and yelling about danger was not, in fact, conducive to getting a coherent response though.

She folded back her guns, considering it was clear there wasn't anyone around to shoot, and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "Listen,-" Maybe... maybe it would just be the logical thing to help him calm down. Just so that she can get actual information out of him. Yeah. For information.

"-There's no one around but me, okay? Roger that? NO ONE. I checked. So stop shaking like a leaf, will you?”

When she came in, Bumblebee looked up, staring, shocked and confused, his red pupils widening from the pinpricks they once were. Why was she here? Didn't she hate him, shouldn't she? Why hadn't she left him yet? Wasn't she disappointed? He would be.

He's making a scene. He needs to calm down. But his body won't let him. He feels like he's drowning but he knows he's fine, he's safe. He knows how he should be feeling, but he just won't feel that way. Like he can't. So he held himself tight, still, shaking still, unable to stop or control himself. He tried to speak, but his voice came out squeaks, a whimper, wordless. He disturbed her, he needs to apologise. He's being a burden again. 

There's no one around but her. That was what was surprising to Bumblebee, the fact that she was there at all. She must have thought it was something, someone else, perhaps infiltrating, intruders like had first asked about. That was all she cared about, not him, never him, because they'd only just met properly and she was already tired of him.

He looked down at his arms, his fingers digging into them, scratching his paint, and another involuntary whimper escaped his lips. How had he done this to himself? Had he dug in that hard, and not realised? This strength was something he'd never before seen through all the cycles he'd spent holding himself for comfort. It frightened him. 

He tried again to say anything, but still, nothing. Perhaps it was better that way. He looked back up at Starscream, trying to calm his breathing, but to no avail.

Well. That didn't work.

Trying to hide her concern, she examined him carefully while trying to put together a plan, and noticed his... claws sinking into his arms. Immediately, she sat down beside him and dug the clawed servos out of the freshly pierced plating. She held his servos in hers, palms up, her thumbs massaging them as she leaned in close to examine.

Claws. Like hers. How did she not notice?

After examining each finger separately, one by one, and pricking herself with the tips to test the sharpness, she felt kind of speechless. Was this why he screamed? Did the changes to his own body scare him? 

Immediately, she took out a laser measurer from the bag and grabbed Bee by the head. Circumference... almost two centihics. Length... five and a half. Not that she knew the precise measurements before this, but she could have sworn they looked just that slight amount bigger. It would not be an unreasonable assumption to make.

As she measured the horns, her hand cradled Bumblebee's head, just firm enough to keep it impersonal, just comfortably enough to be comforting. And when she was done, she let this touch linger. The grasp softened, her palm just barely touching the faceplate.

Right. Remember to keep concern off of your face. 

With his arm in her other hand, she furrowed her eyebrows. "Great. Might as well replace all of your plating at this point. This will take forever to weld and hammer out.”

Another small, quiet whimper, breathing still shaky. He was shaking less, though. The proximity was comforting, and unexpected. But very much welcomed. It was safe to say that he leant into her touch, because truly he didn't know the last time he had had any part of him held like that. And when she held his head, he practically melted, not remembering when he had ever been held like that. Even if she was just measuring his horns...

Bumblebee looked down at his arms, one held by her, the other now resting on his lap. He took a deep breath in, then let it out. 

"Sorry,"

he said, his voice barely a whisper. He would have to apologise better, he just needed time to... get a grip.

"Had a.. bad dream,"

he then added, to give reasoning to this outburst. He stared down, hard.

He hadn't meant for her to come running here, but the fact she had truly surprised him. The fact that she was still here after discovering that it was only Bumblebee that had been the sole problem in this situation was very surprising, too. 

Get a grip, Bumblebee. Stop complaining, suck it up, stop whining. You're an issue, you're being a burden. He swallowed shakily, breathing slowing down, as he tried to calm himself further. "I.." so close. Keep going. A few more breaths, you'll be out of the woods and then you'll soon be back to normal. And then you can start helping again, make yourself useful, make it up to her for disturbing her and worrying her that someone was intruding. 

"I dreamt, about... being out there," he murmured, meaning space. He didn't say any more about it. Surely only the being in space part wouldn't be that bad... it was more a matter of what else had happened in his dream. "I- I didn't mean for you to come here. I'm sorry. You can go and, get back to whatever it was you were doing. You don't have to worry about me- it won't happen again."

A few more breaths. He looked up at her, sincerely apologetic. "I'm sorry, Starscream.”

"Umm. Alright, just don't let it happen again," she replied, completely unsure how to deal with apologies. Not that one was really... needed here? But sure. It was good that he seemed to see the whole situation as a weakness on his part and not hers, so.

Might as well fix him up like she said she would have to. She left those dents in him long enough, postponing because there was always some more urgent repair to make, but now that she had even taken care of her own form, there was no putting it off for later. 

With a magnetic dent flattener, she began firmly sliding it across the worst of Bumblebee's crumples. It'll be much easier to weld the pierced areas when they're flat, too. 

Dreamt about being "there", huh? She could guess what that referred to, but it was a bit of a surprise that simply floating around in space for a little bit was apparently nightmare fuel for him. 

She blinked. Stop thinking about his stupid dream. You're literally getting pitybaited.

"Um," she tried to make the silence less awkward. "So... what was it in your dream that scared you so hard you had to scream like a protoform?”

He looked away, breathing more or less back to normal now, aside from a bit of shakiness. He didn't know if he wanted to really talk about it. He thought hard about what had happened. Some parts he didn't really remember. "Well, I.. I was out there, alone, in space, and.. it felt like I was dying- it was suffocating me, the.. the black." He took a few more breaths.

"And, well..." Should he mention this part? "Everyone I'd ever known had something bad to say about me. It was... it was sort of.. similar to.. how I was thinking, in the.. in the engine room," he confessed, looking down at his lap, ashamed. He didn't want to think about that, either. He felt so guilty. But here he was, thinking about it...

He wouldn't mention the fact that Starscream was in it. Because surely, that would be considered weird. He didn't want to bring her into it, this whole thing, this issue of his. He didn't know what she'd say, how she would react. "I, uh.. mostly screamed because of the suffocating," he explained, "It felt... so, so real. I never want to go through that, ever again."

Surprisingly, he chuckled a bit to himself, an odd smile on his face; almost self-deprecating. "Sorry, when I say it out loud, it all sounds.. so pathetic.”

"Yeah, a little bit. But not the suffocating part." 

Yeesh. You've already calmed down from the panic, why keep apologizing now? Well, she knew already from before that this guy really had self-esteem issues, but it seems like he hadn't taken a single word of her advice. 

Yes, perhaps it was beneficial for her to keep him in such a sorry mental state, and feed into his self-doubts... but if she had to listen to him whine and put himself down every time something happened, she'd rather crash land into the moon again. Something needed to be done.

Only one problem: she makes for a terrible fucking therapist.

"If you keep having outbursts like these all over the slightest idea that someone might not like you, you'll have a miserable fucking time at the Decepticons. Get used to it, no one likes or trusts anyone else besides themselves. So stop apologizing for your existence and start hurting people on purpose. Also, I've been stranded alone in space for far far longer in the past, and it's literally not that bad.”

Bumblebee's smile dropped, still looking downwards. Y'know, she was right. He was being a bit of a pussy about all of this. He was a Decepticon now, wasn't he? But he wasn't acting like one at all. He got this brand, and for what? To parade Starscream around, put her on a pedestal or something? He assumed that was what she wanted him for, to use him first as a tool to fix things up for her, doing all the dirty work while she sat atop a throne - then, she intended to use him as a means to prop herself up as The Biggest, Baddest Leader of the Decepticons Cybertron had Ever Seen. Sounds good on paper.

"Yeah, but you seem like you're used to that. Being stranded alone, I mean." He met her gaze as best he could. "You seem like the type." Outburst after outburst, he was really putting the insignia to shame. He needed to get a better attitude about his life now, needed to stand up for himself. "Which is why you were so embarrassed earlier. You turned the darkest purple I've ever seen." He smiled to himself. How good it felt to be connecting dots like this. 

"You're not used to proximity. It really shows. You're not the type of 'con that others would get all buddy-buddy with, y'know. Were you getting a bit too comfortable with me?" he asked, his tone almost jeering, the smile stretching into a smirk. She said it herself, no one likes or trusts anyone besides themselves... so he was putting all his trust in himself, and him alone. He was excited, he felt almost giddy, to be talking back to her like this. "So you had to end our gaming session quickly before it was too late, huh?" Another chuckle.

"Did it scare you?"

He hoped she'd hurry up with his dents. "But anyway, you're right. I am gonna stop all the outbursts and whining and apologising. I hope you're happy." His optics narrowed, smirk deepening. This was fun. He should probably do this more often.

Starscream stared at him. Stunned, frozen solid, unable to move a piston.

Then, her face turned into a furious scowl, and all those guns unfolded back again. He must have forgotten who was holding whose arm right now, because in an instant, she picked him up by it and threw him at the nearest wall with full force.

"Who do you THINK you're talking to?! OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHO YOUR RIGHTEOUS LEADER IS?!" She stomped over to him before he would even recover, and grabbed him again, this time by the throat. "AFTER ALL THE MERCY I SHOW TO YOU, YOU CHOOSE TO INSULT ME LIKE YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME! YOU THINK YOU'RE SO CLEVER!? THAT TOLERATING YOUR PRESENCE MEANS I'D BE TOO SCARED TO HURT YOU?!"

With her entire arsenal pointed directly at his head, she slammed him against the wall, pinning him down and getting so face-to-face with him their heads were nearly touching. At this distance, you could feel fire-hot steam fuming from her helmvents burn your plating.

"YOU PICKED THE WRONG TARGET TO PRACTICE ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He should have figured out that she didn't actually care about his problems. She just wanted him to shut up and be less annoying about them.

Travelling through the air, Bumblebee let out a yell, crying out as he slammed directly into the wall. He held instinctively onto his shoulder, where he'd taken most of the impact, optics widening and the smirk wiped clean off his faceplate. He tried to sit himself up, then she had him in her grasp again, and he let out a choked noise as her grip held him firmly and tightly.

He could come to one conclusion. It seemed he was right. But at what cost?

"Hhck- Stop--" he managed to choke out, his arm now scrabbling to try and pull her arm away and drop him, but he was much too weak and she was much too strong. He let out a similar choked, strangled noise when he was slammed against the wall and pinned, coughing out another, this time louder, "S-Stop-" 

He turned his face away, the boiling steam too much for him, and he decided he should do something. After she yelled, he growled out a yell of effort, "STOP!"

Bumblebee swung his feet up to try to kick her in the stomach/waist area, whatever he could reach as he swung, hopefully enough to either wind her or confuse her to get her to drop him. And, if that worked, after a very brief moment's recovery, he was sure as hell darting out and down the hallway if he could.

Unfortunately for him, Starscream was in an absolute fighting mode. She was the kind of machine that could take a full hit from Bulkhead's wrecking ball and walk away unfazed, so even Bumblebee's most respectable attempts simply angered her more. 

Good. Beg for mercy. "LOUDER!" She tightened her grip more and got even closer, their heads clanking together. The blaster pressing up against her victim's head began charging up for a shot. To say that the wings behind her were twitching was an understatement.

He had enough of full swings with his legs, and resorted to just kicking her feebly instead. "STOP, P- HGk- PLEASE," he cried out, optics slammed shut, tight. Another strangled noise came from him as she tightened her grip round his neck, his newfound claws digging into her forearm as he tried to scratch her off of him, trying to get some form of a grip on her to wrench her hand away, but to no avail. "Grghk- GET OFF OF ME!" he yelled out, begging her, crying out to someone, anyone, "HELP!" but of course there was not a single soul to help him. "PLEASE, ST-Hk-STARSCREAM!"

One last ditch effort, he tried bashing his head against hers as best he could from the closeness they were currently in. Well, he guessed he was wrong about one thing - she was used to proximity. Just not the same kind he was. His efforts were likely in vain, however, considering the fact that it would have just hurt him more. He was getting closer to passing out, exhausting himself with all his struggling and panicking. 

His kicks slowed, eventually, as did his scratching, and his optics remained only half opened. "Sstop..hk..”

When the fighting came nearly to a halt, she dropped him freely to the floor and moved away. It was almost a shame that he could barely put up a fight against her. As satisfying as it was to know she could finish him off any moment, she longed for the familiarity of the Decepticons hitting back twice as hard as she hit them. This, though, was just pathetic.

"I swore to kill you earlier. Before you woke up, I sat there with the feeling that you would turn your cursed back on me, and I've just been proven right. So I should've, by all means, I should've killed you right now."

With her hands behind the back, she circled the room threateningly, like a predator circles its prey. "How very telling that you had heard me support and encourage you to stand against your enemies, and the first person you chose to target was me. I'm impressed by your courage, Bumblebee, and at least part of me is proud. That's why I'm keeping you alive."

Of course, part of her was also severely disappointed that he didn't offer nearly enough resistance.

She approached again, and stretched out her servo towards him, offering help standing back up. Take it. Take it and dig your claws into mine. Take it and lunge at me like an animal, or sting me with electricity, or anything at all. Be a Decepticon.

"Don't make me regret my decision.”

Gasping, coughing, now finally able to properly breathe, Bumblebee felt his throat, assessing it. All seemed relatively intact. He scrambled to sit up, watching her every move as she circled him. He stayed silent, aside from raspy breaths. Now was evidently not the time for quips or reactions. Breathing heavily, propping himself up, he kept watching her. His expression was tense, but his fear had mostly subsided. It could have been regarded as one of respect.

When she stuck out her servo for him to take, he sat, staring at it. 

Don't make her regret her decision...

Bumblebee took her servo tightly in his, claws digging in a bit to its back (although, that may not have been on purpose, considering he was no longer fully aware of the sharpness of his fingers). With her aid, he was back on two feet, but he didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he'd extended his other arm's stinger, which now appeared to be much sharper and longer. Hooked, too. Upgrades. The Decepticon rapidly dug it deep into her newly repaired chest, twisting the long, sharp, pointed blade like it was a drill, deeper and deeper in. A thunderous bolt of energy coursed through her from his wrist after powering up quickly, red light surging. When he was done, he quickly retracted his blade and let go of her servo sharply, making sure to score it as best he could with his claws as he did so. The stinger's new hook dragged painfully into any and all of the nooks and crannies it could find on the way out of her chest.

This happened in seconds. He darted down the hallway this time.

As Starscream's whole body convulsed uncontrollably, pistons involuntarily activating at the surge of electricity, it was unclear if the grin plastered over her face was of genuine satisfaction, or a grimace of pain.

He was out of the door before she even dropped to the floor. There, on that floor, she lied all alone, twitching with the sparks of electricity coming out of the gnarly looking chest wound.

And I just repaired that.

...

The situation has become messy. Up against the wall, the very same wall she was choking Bumblebee by, she needed to recuperate her thoughts.

You got exactly what you wanted, she thought. You did him a favour at your own expense. You taught him how to fight back, and paid the price, while he's running away with your own traitorous wisdom.

As if that makes what she did to him any better. Unwillingly, her thoughts circled back to Megatron - they didn't start out this way. It took billions and billions of stellar cycles for them to become the awful people they were now, for her to garner all of her current resentment for him. And it seems like Bumblebee, the speed demon that he is, caught up to her level in as little as two solar cycles.

It's what needed to be done. This would have happened sooner or later anyway, it was simply the Decepticon way. And who cares about right or wrong anyway? All that matters is that you've screwed yourself over, Starscream, and now that sunk cost fallacy is kicking in, you gotta find some way to justify it.

Just this morning, she swore that the thought of hurting him alone was repulsive to her. But she recognized the danger of feeling so attached to someone this untrustworthy, and she followed the voice of reason. Don't regret your decision now.

She reached for the tools again. Too far away. Then fell over and crawled on the floor towards them, leaving a blue streak of hydrofluid behind. 

Maybe he was still an Autobot, considering how both him and Optimus seemed to aim for the chest.

What now?

Fix yourself up, soldier. Don't go looking for him. He has nowhere to go but back to you.

Bumblebee darted out of the ship, and there on the other side of the moon, he hid for a while. 

A lot had happened. A lot he had to think about.

Not that. What was wrong with him?

So, Starscream probably hated him now -- or.. or. Or did she? He saw her face when he stung her.

And he was not going to stop thinking about it any time soon. It had to... it had to just be the natural expression her face twisted into when she was in pain, right? 

Another thing was, holy SLAG that was awesome. He extended both his stingers out, seeing their hooks, the red sparks filling him with energy as he watched them crackle and fizz. But the awesomeness didn't come with a price. 

Maybe he really should have picked his battles better. Surely she could have found him someone else to go up against with ease, if only he had just asked her. But no. He decided to test his luck, and look where that'd got him. Hiding in a crater. 

His stingers retracted again. Back to the other issue. 

Why did he like that. Starscream was so close to him, her blaster to his temple, all guns aimed and ready to fire on him at any moment. Choking him, hard. Feeling the heat of the steam from her helmvents, her slamming him against the wall, throwing him... The way she didn't even budge when he kicked her with all his might. All of that. That should be one of the EASIEST things to hate, most obviously but... Spark knows what was going on in his head. He must be sick, or poisoned, or something... he hoped.

He felt his neck, where she'd had him held tightly for so long. He gulped. 

Stop it Bumblebee what the frag is wrong with you on so many levels. He was sat with his legs tight to his chest, faceplate resting on his knees. 

He gave it a while before he considered what to do.

...He remembered he had been linked to the Decepticon comm frequency. Okay, this was either going to be really stupid, or... well, there was no or. It was going to be really stupid.

He cleared his throat, connecting. "Uuuuuhh.. heeyyy..." he began, slowly, carefully. "Uuh, good news. Uhhm. It works long distance!" he joked. He immediately face palmed so fucking hard. 

"Anyway, um. Just uh... wanted to check in, see how you're doin'. Uhh.. peace out?" 

If this didn't get him offlined immediately, he would be so, so lucky.

The incoming message caught her off guard and she scrambled to pick up the incoming call. 

Over the line, Bumblebee could hear something dropping, a glass shatter, then what sounded oddly similar to something falling on top of Starscream. Eventually, she cleared her throat. "-Ahem, doing fine. Just, repairing the same cockpit I just fixed recently, thanks to no one in particular!"

After a bit of a struggle and electric screwdriver noises, she spoke again while obviously holding some kind of tool in her mouth. "No hrd mpheelngs- jst gt mmfused t'-t, ths hpphns mm th t'mme-" She finally spat the screws out into her hand, needing them again. "You did well there. Messed me up quite a bit, but you still owe me a thanks and an apology - one for not killing you, the other for what you said and for being a fragging idiot." 

Right. She did predict he would be back soon, but... this soon? And already trying to reconcile? He's trying too hard to sell this whole "loyalty" facade. It's making him look stupid.

All in all, now that she thinks about it, this isn't even that notable of an event by Decepticon standards. They fight all the time! Just that usually it's not... this personal. She shuddered, remembering what Bumblebee said about her. He had to have been just making it up on the go, trying to hit any vulnerability at all. She's not going to let that thought even bother her. 

Frag, but he was kind of right. She says that this is normal, but what she should really be saying is this is normal for her. Sure, the other cons fought on a semi-regular basis too, but it's undeniable everyone had a boner for opposing and disrespecting her in particular. That part she's been well-aware of for quite a long time now. But was it that obvious from the outside...?

Yes, you complete glitchhead. Yes it is. The ship is literally empty, and you're desperate for allies because no one out of the actual cons wants to be on your team willingly. It is obvious.

Frag.

Bumblebee didn't know what he thought he was expecting, but it wasn't the sounds of various things and objects crashing and raining havoc around her. He had to laugh, because it was comical to imagine various things falling on and around her, but he tried to pass it off as a cough. 

He almost laughed again at the mumbley muffley tool-in-mouth talk, having to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter as he imagined that image, too. Then he took his hand away when she.. praised him? "Uhh.. thank.. you?"

"And um.. that can, probably be arranged," he mumbled about the apology.. and thanks, apparently. "But uh.. everything good on your end? Maybe I could... start that apology off by helping.. fix what I.. broke?" he asked, sheepish, choosing his words very carefully. He was worried he was going to overstep, if that was even a thing he could do. Maybe he should have waited longer before hopping on their comms so casually. Maybe he should’ve started this conversation off better? Oh well, not much he could do now to change what had already happened.

Bumblebee stood, dusting himself off, slowly making his way back towards the ship as he talked. 

"I hope there's no hard feelings. Or at least, really hard feelings. You were right. Uh, again. About the picking targets bit." He paused. Hopefully he wasn't just rambling on. Yapping away in her ear. Slag, maybe he should just shut up. 

He wanted to shut the frequency off now, so badly, but he wanted to see if she had anything else to say. He walked very slowly, on purpose, not wanting to get back for a bit. He'd take his time. Internally he groaned, rubbing his faceplate in frustration. Why was this all so hard? He just wished it could go back to the way it was... 

"I'd like to play a game I like next time," he finished, much quieter. Now, to... wait.

"What is it with you suggesting to fix me?" She sounded genuinely confused. If it's just an expression of what she thinks it is, then she's afraid she'll never get used to this "friendship" stuff. "I don't need it! What do you think I've been DOING over here?" Does this guy even listen at all? She just said that she was already repairing herself!

She sighed and tried to pull herself upright, which was proving to be a challenge after the last two days she just had. And, of course, if he were to pay an even closer attention, he would have remembered that she doesn't even need these repairs because of the immortal thing. At this point they were purely cosmetic.

"Next time", huh. She wondered when that would be. Depends on if she keeps true to her word and refrains from sending him anywhere near the Earth - he'd probably go crazy in this place if she left him alone one more time, and it seems like gaming is the only thing that can somewhat keep him pacified. This clingwrap must really need some company right now if this is how soon he decided to come back, but after the whole fiasco with him pointing out how obvious it was that she was bad with proximity, she doesn't think she'll be joining him in any gaming sessions anytime soon.

...Even after reminding herself to just dismiss it, she still blushed with shock and shame at remembering his words. "Were you getting too comfortable?" "Did it scare you?" Words like these are not easy to forget. And she shouldn't read into these, she shouldn't even give them second thought, but...

No, no, it did not scare her because she isn't SCARED of anything. It enraged her. That someone would allow themselves to inch their way into her trust, that she would be stupid enough to pretend for a moment like it was okay. Her fists curled into balls as she leaned on the same desk her and Bumblebee sat at, shaking because of the thoughts that were suddenly rushing through her mind.

Maybe the real way to get back at him was to show him that she was actually great with proximity. Prove him wrong. Oh yeah, what's she scared of? Nothing! Because he's wrong about her being scared!

Her ship-wide eyes still hadn't detected any activity on board. "Are you coming in or not? Lest you've forgotten we have a planning and strategy meeting today?”

Bumblebee shrugged to himself, which, again, he facepalmed over, because she can't see him, so why is he shrugging? He guessed he was so insistent on helping repair Starscream because it was his fault and he liked to be helpful and useful. 

...and because he cared.

But there was no need to admit all of that. "Yeah, you're right, you've probably got a better handle on repairing yourself than I would. Just thought I heard some.. nevermind," maybe best not to mention the crashing sounds he'd heard. 

Bumblebee got to the entrance, "Yep, coming in now... and I didn't forget, don't worry," he added, a bit proud of himself that he did actually remember. He would say he was excited to find out what one does on a planning and strategy meeting as a Decepticon, because he knew what happened during Autobot meetings (he usually got bored until they told him what he had to do), but... the issue was that he knew it was going to be pretty awkward, and that that would probably be his fault. 

Because while it was easy now, to talk over comms to her, he knew it would be different entirely to actually look her in the eyes. And at her in general. One, because he would be seeing the damage that he'd done (albeit repaired, yes). But two, because he is not going to be able to get over, uh... stop stop stop move on ignore that...

Walking inside, he strolled back to the control room where he assumed she would be. He did a similar thing to before, peeking his head in slightly to see what she was up to. Again, because he didn't want to just go in immediately. Why? Uhh, nerves, probably. He shut off his comm link because he didn't want to be hearing her double, but still, just watched.

Maybe they should invest in digging up some chairs from the wrecked remains, because the setup for the meeting consisted of her clearing out the control panel just enough to serve as a desk and setting up a presentation board on the monitors. And because they don't have enough chairs, if Bumblebee wanted to sit down for any duration of this meeting, him and Starscream would have to share.

"Stop standing in the doorway and come in already," she commented, not even bothering to turn around to look at him. "This meeting will be more... private, than they usually are, on the basis of the fact that no one else is here. Just us two." She was already doing great at proximity.

"I think you're already familiar with our goals, but for the sake of clarity, I'll list them anyway." With a tap of a button, the presentation did a loop-de-loop transition into the next slide, where the only text were the big bold letters saying "ALL HAIL STARSCREAM". "Number one: kill Megatron and assume his position."

With another tap, the slide did an even stranger transition, this time showing what appeared to be a mugshot of Optimus after his court meeting with Ultra Magnus. Text saying "MASSIVE GLITCH"  pointed at his face with a big red arrow. "Number two: obtain the All-Spark.”

How did she-? It was like she had eyes in the back of her head or something. Bumblebee thought he was pretty quiet, but apparently not quiet enough. He meandered in slowly, looking at the monitor then at Starscream, smiling a bit at the setup for the meeting. "Okay, ready," he said, trying to stifle a laugh. But he was not at all prepared for the rest of the presentation.

He tried to be serious. He tried to be so serious. But the slide designs and the transitions couldn't not make him laugh. Was this how these meetings always were? With these funny presentations? The Decepticons really needed a graphic designer to join their ranks, it seemed. He covered his mouth with a servo to try and make it seem like he was thinking. It got worse when the mugshot appeared on the screen. In order to try and distract himself and ultimately stop himself from laughing, Bumblebee decided to see about sitting down, whereupon he noticed there was still no nearby seat. 

"Is there somewhere for me to sit?" he asked, looking around. He was so interested to see where the presentation was headed, but he feared if he wasn't seated he may fall over from laughing if it got worse. He just never imagined it to be like this. Maybe this wasn't the norm and was just Starscream's doing - he thought that just made it funnier, actually.

"Uuuuh. Well we can add 'salvaging chairs' to our to-do list today, but for now you can just sit on my legs again or something if you need." She tried so hard to treat this casually. Her excuse was flawless, too. Maybe if she doesn't treat the situation as weird, Bumblebee won't even notice that she was turning dark purple once again.

"Now, these goals are quite general and far ahead, so we need to figure out concrete ways of getting there. Specific things that could give us an advantage and methods of achieving our dreams. That's why my first suggestion is:" 

Nothing could prepare him for the glass shattering effect transition. The slide itself simply consisted of the image of  the Star Wars death star, stretched out to fit the ratio of the screen. "The orbital laser plan. Now, I know this sounds ridiculous - isn't the engine destroyed? But, you see, I have these schematics right here-" and the image of the blueprint slowly faded in overtop of the death star screenshot, "-showing that with just about five solar cycles worth of work, provided you do a notable portion of it, we could have the world's mosh powerful and easy way to destroy the Earth. Hey, what's so funny?-" she became offended as soon as she noticed the giggling.

Bumblebee turned a pinkish shade himself at the offer. He wasn’t expecting that. 

Inside of him there were two bots. One was begging him to not proceed and just stay there standing, or perhaps even lean on something, or maybe even do anything other than sitting anywhere near the vicinity of Starscream’s lap. 

The other was on its knees begging to please just please try it out just to see what she’d do. Just out of pure curiosity. Just- science! In the name of science, and research, and study, just find out what would happen. Because he saw how she reacted before. 

Needless to say the latter won. “Oh, uh, sure, thanks for that.. my uhh legs were starting to get tired standing,” he quickly then justified, trying to appear normal. He walked over towards Starscream, getting just over halfway there to sitting on her lap, but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the transition and death star. 

Bumblebee let out a loud snort he expertly masked with extremely obvious coughing. And then the blueprint faded in and he couldn’t help himself from giggling more. But he hit himself in the chest with a fist, clearing his throat, “Sorry, sorry! Uh, cough!” he lied. 

At the end of her explanation, Bumblebee kept clearing his throat. “Oh uh no no, nothing’s funny! You can keep going, sorry, just, uh, bit of a,” he cleared his throat once more, “a tickle, no biggie, voice sore, you get it,” he added, trying to sound as if his voice was raspier.

Despite being secretly disappointed that he stopped halfway, maybe it was a good thing, because this sudden coughing episode was not a good sign. Out of the bag, she took a can of disinfectant and sprayed it onto Bee in a big cloud of aerosol. 

"Your coughing problem is concerning. Do we need to quarantine you?" Most likely it was just the moondust getting stuck in his components, but she really didn't want to risk it. Disgust probably showed up on her face, but more evidently it showed in her body language, how she looked recoiled in her seat.

Maybe he coughed too realistically. He waved away the disinfectant, “No no no, I’m fine I swear. I’m not sick or anything,” he explained, gesturing innocently. “Just uhh… the dust, probablyyy?…” Did that even make sense? He didn’t know. He just didn’t want to tell her that her presentation was hilarious because he didn’t want to offend her. He felt a bit bad that she looked so disgusted, though. 

He realised he wasn’t yet.. seated, and was just sort of awkwardly hovering. “…Still okay to, uh, sit?” he asked, just to make sure. Just to clarify. In case she’d changed her mind. Then he thought it would be smart to ask about the plans. “So, I have to do the work, okay, makes sense,” he began. “But do we have to destroy the whole planet? Couldn’t we just sneak in, and, y’know, do some sneaky stuff? Like an assassination mission or something on Megatron?”

"What do you think I've been trying to DO FOR THE PAST FOUR BILLION STELLAR CYCLES?! And yes, feel free to take a seat."

She clicked over to the next slide. Page flip transition. This one featured a variety of pictures that Starscream appeared to have taken herself, showcasing Megatron doing a variety of annoying things - from taking energon cubes she clearly labelled as hers, simply sitting on his own throne, or spilling oil on accident - to a shot of a rather painful-looking dent in her wing with him walking away in the background. "Which brings us to the thing I was about to suggest. We need to do an assasination mission on Megatron." 

She slammed her fist against the desk. "BUT! IF IT WERE ONLY THAT EASY! The only way to truly disarm him is if we catch him by surprise. Which is why I suggest we plant a bomb in your chest and have you try to get as close as possible to him.”

He wouldn't admit it, but he flinched the smallest bit when she got louder. Bumblebee then did as she offered and sat down on her lap. He got as comfortable as he could. He turned pinker, much pinker. 

Okay, this was nice. But weird. But.. nice! But weird. He was too distracted now to notice the transition, unfortunately, but he snickered softly as he looked up at the pictures - except when he laid his optics on the wing dent image, he stopped laughing. He did roll his eyes a bit at her 'suggestion' which had just been his own mere moments before.

There was a pause, and his pinkish hue grew across his face as he looked down at his (and her) lap. He cleared his throat, acting perfectly normally despite the circumstances of his current location, then he finally registered what she had just said, and turned to stare back at her, flabbergasted. "WHAT???" he cried out, looking incredulous. "I am NOT putting a bomb in my chest?? I would offline!!!" He gave her a 'what the actual frag is wrong with you' look. "If you wanted rid of me just say that! Besides, Megatron is scary and way bigger than me, wouldn't he just crush me before the bomb even got a chance to detonate--?" He blubbered a bit, confused at why he was even thinking along those lines, "But that doesn't even matter because I'm not gonna do it!!" 

Bumblebee tried to think of an alternative, brows furrowing in thought. "Why don't we try to disarm him or sabotage him, then make Optimus and everybody capture him and take him back to Cybertron as a war criminal? We could put in an anonymous tip to them about where he would be, or something.”

"Are you an idiot? Or a traitor? We CANNOT just give the Autobots what they want, this is none of their business! It's mine! Between me and Megatron! I've not been fighting for the chance to have my personal revenge and victory over Megatron for NOTHING, and if some puny Autobot ends up claiming the credit for it, I'd have to OFFLINE THEM TOO!" She seemed... clearly quite passionate about this topic.

"And regardless, this brings me to the last slide, which will explain my plan further." Tiled transition. All this slide had was a list of coordinates. "The All-Spark fragments. If we can acquire one of these, I could figure out a way to revive you even after the explosion." She tapped her forehead cleverly. "Not to mention a billion other potential uses."

With Bumblebee finally in her lap, she rested her hand on his head. Have the horns grown again? Surely it's been too soon since the last measurement, but... Why does she even care about his horns? Morbid fascination, most likely. She needs to stop touching his horns, it's pricking her fingers painfully.

To stop groping the horns, she rested her hand on his thigh instead.

Bumblebee nodded. "Okay, okay, I get it, you wanna be the one to get all the glory, not the Autobots, okay," he said. "Makes sense. Fine, we can forget about that idea." He liked how much she cared about being the one to do it. He liked how passionate she was. Why? No idea. He guessed he just liked when people cared deeply about things? It put a smile on his face.

Though, Bulkhead was really passionate about engineering, but he never felt this way with him... 

He looked at the coordinates, thinking, then turned back to speak to her. "I don't know if I want to do that, it sounds too.. dangerous.... and what if it doesn't work? I mean, I know it worked for you, but, that seemed like it was special.. what if it doesn't like me or something?" He didn't really know how Starscream's whole thing with the shard worked but he was pretty happy with properly being online, spark intact - her lack of a spark really unnerved him. Because what if that shard got removed?... Actually, he didn't want to think about that at all. No more what ifs. "I don't wanna be revived because I don't want to die in the first place." 

He shifted a bit, not uncomfortably so, but simply aware, when she rested her hand on the top of his head, and then she was touching his horns again, okay, sure, this is fine. Why was she okay with all of this? Why was she initiating this? What is she doing?? And then her hand was gone, and he felt some form of relief. Okay, he was fine. He can recover from this. He was going to be just fine.

The darkest pink possible started growing feverishly across the entirety of his face the moment she laid her hand on him. Bumblebee immediately stared directly at his hands, eyes wide in shock, his head angled fully down to try and hide his blush. What. What. What. What. Wh

She was so good at proximity. She was absolutely winning this shit. So casual that he didn't even notice the headpats. So chill about the whole thing that even close touch like this didn't feel weird. And when she looked down on him, clearly hiding his face, she smirked to herself again. Yeah, who's the one embarrassed now? She won.

"Too dangerous? Tell me about it! You think I wouldn’t be risking my aft for this?" she said, knowing full well that she would be sitting and observing from a safe distance very far away. "You think I liked dying?" 

Not that she really thought about how she felt on the whole being dead thing. She supposed she liked the immortality part, but... well, there weren't any downsides to it per-se, just that it felt kinda weird? But she mostly just credited that weird feeling to her usual discontent with her form. Not hearing your own sparkbeat was... fine. She has basically gotten used to it.

"And so far, I haven't heard any alternative suggestions from you, cleverhead." She glided her claws over the thigh plating teasingly, such that they didn't leave the usual scratch marks, but still scared him. Oh yeah. You're winning this.

Bumblebee tried to act normal, he tried to be sooo normal but he was losing his mind. He just wanted to jump off her lap (HE WAS ON HER LAP) and run away and hide in storage for 50 stellar cycles to forget about this. 

"Uuuh, no," he began, trying his hardest to mask the obvious flustered slash nervous slash whatever shake in his voice, "I would probably think you wouldn't. Like dying, I mean," he added, in case she thought he was talking about the first bit. To be honest, though, he probably wouldn't have been wrong about it either. She seemed to like to make him do things for her- okay, weird observation but sure, maybe true?? Oh, he didn't know. Maybe he made that up. Maybe that was something his processor decided to hope for, or something. What was he saying. He must be broken. 

When her claws brushed over his thigh he couldn't stop himself from having a full body shudder and he panicked majorly, letting out a noise one might attribute to a startled kitten, grabbing her servo tightly and moving it away from his thigh. But then he was holding her servo. Panicking further, and blush deepening incredibly so, Bumblebee let go of her servo and held both his servos close to himself. His spark was beating sooo quickly. 

"UM-" he said a bit too loudly, so he stopped himself to adjust his tone and volume to appear more at ease with her sudden touch (which he very much wasn't), "Umm. I uh, don't have any suggestions because um, I don't know any." Go girl give us nothing! Internally he faceplanted the floor. He was embarrassing himself further, why did he even have to start to say anything? He hoped the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He was heating up like a furnace. This was how he died. None of anything like this had ever happened to him before, so he didn't know how to deal with... any and all of it.

Judging by the full-body reaction the servo grab, and the lack of any objections, the scare tactic sure did work. Good, because she didn't want to hear any more hesitation regarding her plan.

"So we have our objective - retreive the fragments first. With them, we might even manage to build the lazer much faster. Now just to choose - which one would you like to start with, sweetspark?" As she said that last line, she tightened the grip on Bumblebee's servo and her wings fluttered again. Her face was stretched out in a wide, proud grin.

She should take note that this works surprisingly well as an intimidation tactic on him.

His now redness got much worse at the nickname, oh Spark he couldn't think, he was going to melt into a puddle right here and right now. "S- sweetspark..??" he squeaked, "Why are you-" he cleared his throat again, adjusting his pitch so he didn't sound like a frightened chipmunk, "Why are you calling me- that?" 

He wasn't able to think about the rest of her question. Sure, maybe he would have been able to if she hadn't called him sweetspark????? Sweetspark. Sweetspark! Wasn't that- a petname? A nickname? For, lovers??? Bumblebee had never been in any form of relationship that wasn't friendship or familial before. He had no idea what was happening or what to do. He was getting way too flustered by her.... advances?? And he was going to explode. And, he just realised, she was still holding his servo? He couldn't look at her, he was far too embarrassed.

What was wrong with him? Get over it Bumblebee!! First those thoughts about her after their... fight? Or whatever that was. The petting? The sitting-on-her-lap? The thigh-touching?? And his reactions to all of these things were baffling to him. Could he--?? No, no, no way. Surely that wasn't possible? They'd basically just met.

All of that space isolation was getting to him. Now he had no idea how to deal with touch or affection or whatever this was that Starscream was doing to him. This all had to be some kind of glitch, yes, that was it! A glitch in his system. All of these feelings and reactions. Nobody else would act like this. Something must be wrong. 

Bumblebee realised he had been sitting silently for quite some time now, so he cleared his throat quite urgently and spoke quickly, "Uhm, maybe the uh- maybe the getting the- I mean, we should do the getting of the fragments, uh, thing. Yeah," he said, intelligently and not at all fumbling anything he had just said. He made total sense.

Hm. It would appear that this was working a bit... too well. He was getting distracted from the main point of the meeting, but admittedly, does anyone ever care about these? Yes, this one was special because it was finally her meeting to be in charge of, but she'd be a liar if she said she didn't sleep through most of these herself.

"Did I stutter? I can call you anything I want. No need to make a big deal about it. Unless you're 'afraid of proximity'?" she said, sarcastic tease and glee dripping from her words. 

"And you didn't answer my question. Tch. Guess you want me to pick your next objective myself. Do you even care about this meeting? I worked hard on this presentation, you know!" Hard, but not long. 10 cycles, maybe.

Bumblebee's expression changed. He knew what this was. He realised as soon as she made the reference.

She was just getting back at him. 

She didn't mean any of what she was doing, she was just teasing. 

She didn't care. 

He felt... crushed. Like a mere bug beneath her mighty foot, he'd fallen for her trap. She was just making fun of him at this point, wasn't she? 

She was just using this as a way to embarrass him, and it had worked, and now he felt more embarrassed. Oh, well. He should probably go about moving on from this, now. Bumblebee tried his best to calm himself down. Knowing that none of this was real helped him stifle and contain his apparent feelings. Knowing that what she was doing would go nowhere helped, too. 

"Can you repeat the question? Sorry," he asked, speaking much more casually. Calm and collected. That was what he needed to be right now. They had planning to focus on, objectives to pick, schemes to construct, strategy to go over. "I do care, yeah, just was a bit.. distracted." Bumblebee adjusted his positioning, trying to forget the fact he was still on her lap. What would be better yet, he thought, was to stand up. And so, this he did, standing back from the desk as if to study the coordinates. He made sure to put enough space between the two of them. He didn't look to see her reaction. Did he care, when she clearly didn't?

Wait. What was up with the sudden tone shift. What was up with that. Why did he do that. WHY DID HE STAND UP.

Befuddled, she turned around to look at him, and his sudden stern expression- No, no it didn't unnerve her, it just... made her suspicious that something was going on. Was it something she said? Was he pissed that she made fun of his own words, brought up that whole situation again? If so, then this reaction was wildly immature. But sure, she'll let him try to save face all he wants. It's not going to work for long, though. She had already won.

"Too late to answer the question. Because of your little hesitation, I have already decided you will be getting the fragments from my clones that are currently on Sentinel's ship." Yeah, no, she can be confident in his "loyalty" all she wants, but especially with this sudden change in demeanor, she should once again remind herself not to send him anywhere near Earth. 

"Don't forget what he's done to you. I'll make sure he pays." Remind him that you're on his side. There was no place for pettiness when it came to warfare.

He stared at her, concern that he was unable to hide growing on his features. "You- you want me to go back to Sentinel? But he.." He trailed off, because he didn't know what it was he was trying to say. He found it hard to articulate just how against her orders he was. There was no easy way to put the fact that he never wanted to face Sentinel again, without feeling so stupid about it. Especially not alone - would she even be coming?

"You'd be there too, right?" he asked, turning now to face her. He didn't want to say he couldn't do it by himself. There was nothing to say that he wanted her there, either, but he didn't want to go there alone. He wouldn't know how to do it by himself. Not like this, anyway. Sure, he'd done missions for the Autobots, but this felt way different. He was on the opposing side now, he had to act like it, and he wasn't sure how.

Besides, he had already been caught the first time he was snooping around Sentinel's ship. What made her think he'd be able to get it right this time? 

Her words rang in his mind. 'I'll make sure he pays.' Surely that meant she would be coming with him, right? But how would she make him pay? Hopefully nothing too... 

He thought to himself for a second. 

Did he mind that terribly much? Did he care to think about what would happen to Sentinel? Did he even want to bother putting that much effort into thinking about it?

Would it be that bad, whatever she'd do, compared to what he had gone through? Sure, what he was thinking of was probably not even near the same scale as what Sentinel did to him, let alone on it... but that pile of scrap metal could rust and rot for all he cared. The mighty Sentinel Prime, reduced to waste.

"Oh, yes, of course. How else would you get on the ship without me giving you a lift?" Plus, she wasn't stupid enough to leave him unsupervised for the first crucial mission he'd go on. "Make sure to keep your comm link open at all times. I'm going to need to hear everything that happens. I will be keeping my distance, simply because their ship's defenses are likely to detect me otherwise, but I will have my weapons on the ready."

She unfolded her guns once again, not as a threat, but just to flex and proudly display exactly what she was planning on doing. She was already getting a bit too used to having eyes everywhere, being able to see and feel his every move in great detail, so the audio would have to be the closest substitute to the amount of control she was comfortable with. And if at any point in the mission he cuts the communications, well, the ship would be going down together with him.

"Thanks for these, by the way.”

He nodded. He found that comforting. He wouldn't be.. fully alone. That was good. That was all he cared about. And she would be listening in. She could swoop in to save him if anything went awry. She would do that, right? Or if she found him to not be useful enough in this situation would she be disappointed, and just leave him?

Enough of that. He marvelled at her arsenal. She looked so powerful, a force to be reckoned with. He wouldn't want to cross her, and luckily for him he didn't plan on it. 

"Hey, but if the ship would detect you, why wouldn't it detect me?" he asked, wondering what the Elite Guard ship's defense systems would be looking for. "And is there not a possibility that I would be on the list of things to detect, after last time...?" 

Then she thanked him. She thanked him, and she seemed serious, right? Sincere? He scanned her face to see if he could tell if she was or not. That put his mind at ease, that he had use, that maybe she wouldn't leave him, because he can do things like this for her. Bumblebee smiled wide and gave her a double thumbs up. "No problem. What can I say, I've got just the knack for installing deadly weapons!”

She hated that he kind of had a point. She'd forgotten that he was no longer an Autobot, by all the technicalities. He may not act like one, but his energy signature was going to immediately get pegged as Decepticon. However, he was far smaller in size, and would have an easier time sneaking into the ship compared to a large harrier jet.

"Well, there has to be a way that you did it the first time around...? Simply do that again, can you not? I'd expect you to be competent in at least this one little thing."

Good. He seemed to be in much better spirits now that she feigned a nicety. Oh, how easy it is to trick someone as Autobot-minded as him.

"I think that about sums up our next plan of action." The last slide simply said "made by: SIC Starscream Elite", not even thanking the audience for listening. "If you have any questions, keep them to yourself. Oh, and another thing."

Her serious stare pierced him sharply. "Did you get scared?”

"Uuhh... the first time I did it I got caught pretty quickly.. I didn't even get to see much. I guess I didn't really know what I was looking for, though."

Her expectations of him were too high, he worried. Bumblebee had clasped his servos together and tapping his fingertips - or rather clawtips - against the back of one servo. tinktinktinktinktinktinktink-- He should stop, that was getting annoying quickly. He put his hands down at his sides, almost at attention. 

He looked up when she mentioned there was something else - then when he saw her stare piercing into his very spark, he looked away, anxious about why she was so serious all of a sudden. 

"Scared-? Scared of.. what..?" he asked, peeking at her in his peripherals with one optic.

"Of intimacy? Of being proven wrong? Admit it, the second I pointed it out, I saw how wounded you looked. You don't like how I'm better than you, how I know your weaknesses. That all it takes is one touch for me to bring you to your knees. Who's not used to proximity now?" she spoke slowly, teasingly, and brutally. And by the All-Spark, did it feel good to have revenge. Should she have long been over it already? Yes. Was she? No, and she was intending on making it Bumblebee's problem that she was still mad about it.

Bumblebee looked at her, a puzzling look on his face. A mix between tiredness, disappointment and upset. Was that what she thought this whole? That he was scared of intimacy, like he had guessed she was? She was right, he had looked wounded, but not for that reason. He didn't like how she knew his weaknesses and exploited them to make him feel horrible. He was used to proximity, just not false proximity, created to manipulate and guilt. He knew it was all just part of a plan to hurt him.

She was just getting back at him.

She didn't mean a single thing at all.

She did not care in the slightest.

He had been right. He scoffed. There was no use in trying to believe in what could never be true.

"That... wasn't what my issue was." He looked dejected, but he looked like he had been waiting for this. The yellow Decepticon turned away from her, arms crossed. He looked almost smaller than usual, a reflection of how he felt.

 "Y'know, I expected nothing less. You're not used to proximity at all. Because you don't understand. And I knew you wouldn't. So.. there's no point explaining." 

Bumblebee should have left, right there and then. But again, as if by some divine twist of fate, he was stuck there, feet planted to the floor. He just sighed and looked down, willing them to go forwards, take a step, but nothing.

Huh?

"Then what in the pits is your problem? You say that I don't understand right after I directly prove you wrong? You're not going anywhere until you explain yourself, because don't think I was going to just forgive and forget your words from earlier today. You just don't want to admit your loss, and that's all there is to it, you stubborn glitch, but I'm your superior and I'm going to force you to explain yourself." What was she doing wrong?

Why was he running away from her?

She was starting to piss him off. She was so wrong yet she had no idea. Admit his loss? Like this was some game they were playing? A back and forth, like a cat and mouse? Some game it was, he thought with frustration. Guess he was the mouse. He clenched his servos tightly into fists, lowering them to his sides. Was he shaking yet?

“It’s not a game, it’s my feelings that you’re playing with like I’m some- character in a game,” he hissed curtly, looking back at her over his shoulder. He glared at her deeply, the hot red of his servos burying its way into what would be her very spark, if she had had one. 

“That is not all there is to it,” he added in a low growl. “Why do you think so… so black and white? One way or there other? Have you ever stopped to consider how I felt? When you- when you tou- treated me like that then just- you just tore the rug right out from under me and let me fall back down again. You propped me up just to kick me over. It’s not funny.”

The tightness in her chest came back. She felt dizzy.

"What are you even on about? 'Tore the rug'? I did no such thing. Maybe it's YOUR FAULT for making up expectations about me in your head, then getting mad at me for not conforming to your fluffy little idea of a perfectly forgiving leader like Optimus was. And don't pretend like you're not playing the same game as I am, little scum, because I see right through all of your plans. You worm your way into my trust, waiting for a chance to strike when I'm most vulnerable," she stood up, wings shaking in a threat display. 

"Learn how to APPRECIATE A NICE GESTURE FOR ONCE. I did so much for you, you ungrateful piece of scrap, I FIXED YOU UP, I SPARED YOUR LIFE, I GAVE YOU A NEW LIFE! I'M BEING FUCKING NICE TO YOU!" It suddenly became extremely worrying that she never folded back her guns after showcasing them again.

"WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING I COULD! EVERYTHING! BUT IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU, ALL BECAUSE I POINTED OUT YOUR BULLSHIT? BECAUSE I SAID HOW YOU WERE WRONG ABOUT ME?! WHAT DID I DO WRONG?! NAME IT!"

She caught herself shaking again. This wasn't her usual screaming, she wasn't trying to just scare or intimidate him into subordination. And the second she realized it, she stopped in her tracks completely. 

She was showing vulnerability again.

This isn't a facade. She wasn't meant to say this. Too personal, too brutally honest, unlike her usual self in every way possible, despite how it may appear on the outside. She was speaking to him as if they had something, anything at all going on between them, but she wasn't supposed to even care in the first place. You're not supposed to care about someone like this.

She took a step back, her own breathing uneven. There wasn't much space to retreat because of the desk.

"I don't care. You think I don't care, and you're right. But neither do you, neither does anyone, not about you and not about me. Nobody cares.”

Bumblebee stared, spark racing, listening to her every word. 

She brought fragging Optimus into this. He gritted his teeth. She thought he was.. waiting for a chance to strike when she was vulnerable?  Who did she think he was? A traitor? When he had done everything for her? Dropped everything for her? Ruined his entire life for her? Left the ones he loved, even though they might not have loved him? 

Bumblebee was visibly twitching, his chest felt like it was going to constrict him and tear him down. 

He wasn’t going to get any respect naturally around here, so it seemed he would have to just take it. Her words hardly even registered anymore. 

He had had enough. 

He lunged at her, like a rabid fucking animal. With all his might he launched himself on top of her, hoping to knock her over, likely onto the desk. With his servos wrapping tightly around her neck, squeezing tightly, he dug his claws deep in to her plating. He didn’t care about all of her weapons, he was too damn enraged. Pushed over the edge. He was overreacting, sure. But this felt fucking good. 

“I LIKED YOU, YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DID ALL THAT, THAT SHIT TO ME, BUT IT WAS ALL A FUCKING LIE!” He screamed the word, fury twisting his expression as his pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks. With his face so close to Starscream’s, you’d have been able to tell that he had fangs now. Two sets, top and bottom, sharp as knives. 

“YOU CRUEL, TWISTED GLITCH, YOU GET ON MY FRAGGING NERVES, WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT? TALKING ABOUT NOBODY CARES. I CARED! I GAVE A SHIT! BUT WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I IF NONE OF IT WAS REAL?” He pressed in tighter. 

“You claim you did so much for me, but what you really did was RUIN MY LIFE! I SHOULDN’T FRAGGING BE HERE! BUT I AM! AND I STAYED HERE, FOR YOU! BUT ALL FOR FUCKING WHAT?! TO BE SQUASHED LIKE A STUPID INSECT?! SLAG!” he yelled, exclaiming in outrage, breathing so shallow and heavy that he was getting lightheaded from the strain and effort of it all. His grip didn’t falter for one second. 

“SO YOU BETTER START FUCKING CARING, OR I’LL MAKE YOU!”

Stunned, she fell on the desk, knocking over and breaking the monitor. As she screamed in agony, her voice came out distorted - seems like the claws dug into the voicebox. Shakily, she tried to get him off of her, expecting to be able to just swat him away like an insect, but she realized all of a sudden how much stronger he was than she expected. Even as she put in genuine effort into trying, all her attempts to rip him away did was damage her own wiring further.

Despite how hard it was to process anything, she had no choice but to listen right now for once. Was any of what he was saying true? Was it real? He said he cared.

He said he liked her. 

But this was all so stupid. This whole time, she was trying to keep just enough distance between them, keep it impersonal - Bumblebee became a Decepticon not for her, but out of complete necessity. To be able to take revenge, to get off of this damn planet, and to gain the trust and protection of the most powerful Decepticon there is. She could even accept that he'd find her hot, reciprocate her advances to get a chance in bed. If he didn't, if he really decided to get emotionally attached to someone like her, then... 

Well, he was simply stupid for not trying to take advantage. 

Trying to babble out anything at all - an insult, an apology, a comeback, a plea - all that left her mouth was a terrified warble. When pushing him away didn't work, her grasp on his arms weakened, leaving her servos just softly holding them. 

In this comfortingly familiar panic, a brief memory of Megatron crossed her mind. She couldn't unsee him.

"I'll care--" her voice came out a warbled shrill. 

Despite all of these weapons on the ready, despite being able to just transform and fly out of here, she didn't. So many things she could be doing to defend herself, yet she didn't.

Bumblebee was shaking with adrenaline. His face warped and twisted. Pure, unadulterated fury was enveloping his features, and not letting go anytime soon. She couldn't get him off of her. His angered frown twisted the slightest bit upwards, a gnarled grimace one could liken to a grin, fangs bared. He was stronger now. He was better now. He was- 

She was loosening her grip on him, her hold felt... Soft. She was babbling like a fucking protoform. Warbling? What the fuck was she doing? His brows furrowed, confused, enraged. She was just holding him. Why was she just fucking holding him?

This wasn't normal. What was wrong with her? She never used to do this. Then came that pathetic excuse for words, a supposed reply. It maddened him. "SAY IT LIKE YOU FRAGGING MEAN IT!" he ordered. "LOUDER!" His voice was a low growl, but booming, something entirely new to him, but something exhilarating. 

Just look at how the tables had turned.

She was just fucking sitting there. Why wasn't she doing anything? Some pathetic excuse for a Decepticon, he thought, furious. Her weapons were just sitting there, rotting from disuse, and she wasn't fragging MOVING.

WHY WOULDN'T SHE FIGHT BACK? WHY WASN'T SHE RUNNING?

Taking one servo from her neck suddenly, seeing the handiwork in the punctures and tears in the metal from his claws, he transformed one hand into a new and improved stinger. He revved it up for electrocution not far from her head, the red sparks looming, threatening, just above her. He got right up in her face, breathing hot and heavy.

"COME ON, THEN! SAY IT! SAY IT!! YOU'RE MEANT TO BE A FRAGGING DECEPTICON, AREN'T YOU? ANSWER ME!!!!"

But if he really did care, if he really did like her... he wouldn't kill her, right?

Maybe despite his fit of rage, he managed to remember that the fragment would keep her alive anyway. Maybe he was going to let her glimpse the well of sparks once again, just for the cruelty of it all, just to scare her into submission.

You're not going to die. As terrified as you were in this moment, reliving every single time Megatron forced you to beg for your life, belittle yourself, lie and kill and hurt, as similar as this was to those times, you cannot allow yourself to go back there. You cannot forget: you won't die. 

But he might. And you don't want him to die.

There comes a moment when you need to evaluate - is it worth it to swallow your own pride and accept defeat? When you're hurt and you're dying, when it's either you or him, there isn't much of a choice to be made. For Starscream, that point has been crossed, and she chose her own pride. 

He was right. She was meant to be a Decepticon, and Decepticons don't cower in fear doing as Autobots order them to do. 

She launched the missiles he helped her install.

In those final moments, his eyes widened and his grin dropped entirely. Doubt washed over him, like he wasn't expecting her to do this, and then there was a glimmer of realisation and regret. 

"No," came his voice; quietly, pathetically, softly - one last time.

Bumblebee's claws that had remained strangling her dragged through the plating, leaving harsh gashes through her neck as he flung backwards from the force. 

His back slammed against the far wall, leaving a dent, and left the con falling limp in a crumpled heap. His arm had been blown off from the blast, his plating torn and charred and what have you. 

It was hard to tell whether he was alive or dead. 

Well, except for the fact that he had a new, large hole in his chest where his spark should have been. The Decepticon insignia had been torn away, destroyed.

It was a sad sight to observe. What a shame.

One klik, the missile was wedging itself into Bumblebee's chest, burrowing deep into his very lifesource, and ripping his arm open on its way to it. 

Next klik, everything went white.