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Orange had become somewhat of a comforting colour to Twitch.
Well, it was still repulsive, certainly, and it had been her prison for over a week, but now there was something freeing. A steady determination that, like this, she could do anything. No matter her opponent, if they were bathed in orange, it was only a matter of time before she’d win.
Bumblebee had taught her to use it just as efficiently as the blades on her back, how to aim her ire at whoever she desired, take her mark, and fire. Every time she won. Eventually, anyway.
This time, she knew she wasn’t the one who had pulled off the impossible. This time, it was Robby and Mo.
Still, the feeling of Thrash’s servo in her own made her want to sob. It was so warm.
Only three kliks ago, it had been cold as Twitch sobbed over him. Where her tactical vision had been reading nothing but static, frame losing colour, Thrash was dead, he was dead, now it was reading steady biorhythms. All because her human siblings had grabbed the Emberstone, and… they had made everything okay again.
Almost everything, anyway. Twitch’s left optic still throbbed even though she could see out of it again.
Her focus kept getting pulled away by Mandroid. Even though it showed him as dead… What if he popped back online again, like Thrash had? What if, accidentally, Mo and Robby had healed him, too? What then?
She waited for him to move. For him to reveal that he was alive. Twitch wasn’t sure she trusted the flatline on her HUD screen anymore.
Bumblebee stood next to Mandroid’s supposed corpse, staring down at it with the same suspicion that Twitch felt.
“Twitch, Thrash…” Bumblebee said, slowly. “Why don’t you follow your family down the tower?”
“No way!” Twitch shook her helm. “I’m not leaving you alone with Mandroid!”
“I can!” Thrash said enthusiastically, turning to go. He was pulled short by Twitch’s hold on him, and immediately began tugging at her steel grip. “Hey– Hey. Twitch, lemme go!”
“No!” Twitch glowered, tightening her digits as much as she could. “I’m not letting you out of my sight! What if you die again?!”
“What?” Thrash spluttered. “Why would I–? I’m not just going to randomly explode!”
“That’s not what I meant!” Twitch snapped back. “I just want to keep you where I can see you, because…” the tension left her shoulders, pistons hissing as she finally forced herself to relax. “...because you really scared me.”
“Aw… Twitch…”
“Kids, seriously.” Bumblebee deadpanned. “I’m going to double-tap Mandroid, and it will get messy. I don’t want you to have to see that.”
Twitch twisted her helm back around to glare at her biggest brother, her mentor, her best friend. “Well! I don’t want to leave you up here with him! What if he comes alive and attacks you as soon as you’re alone?! What then?!”
“He’s dead.” Bumblebee reassured. “Use your tactical vision. It’ll tell you his bio–”
“I know.” Twitch interrupted firmly. “You’ve only told me about the hearts and sparks display a billion times, and I lived it, Bee! Of course I know. He doesn’t have a pulse. I can see that.”
“That’s so cool,” Thrash admonished, gazing at his twin with admiration in his gaze. Twitch squeezed his servo tight.
Bumblebee laughed awkwardly at her. “Right. Of course. Well, in any case, this would just be for my peace of mind. I promise.”
“What about our peace of mind?” Thrash argued, returning her grip with his own strength. “We want to see this through, Bee.”
In surprise, her gaze flickered toward Thrash, in awe that he was taking her side instead of trying to urge her along. Tingly and relieved warmth spread through her. She loved him so much. She couldn’t believe that he almost… wasn’t here anymore.
Before them, Bumblebee sighed, optics closing for a beat. When he opened them, steely determination had taken hold. “Fine. Can you two at least look the other way? I mean it when I say it’s going to be disgusting.”
“Yup!” Thrash nodded readily, turning his helm away to stare out over the valley. “No problem!”
“No,” Twitch firmly stated in turn, planting her pedes into the ground. “I have to watch. I have to see this.” Her optics focused on Mandroid’s head as it lifelessly drifted past one of the viewpoint windows. His eyes were glazed over. He certainly looked dead, but… “I have to.”
Bumblebee sighed. “Don’t tell your mom,” he muttered, sounding a touch irritated but he regardlessly relented. “I’ll make this quick.”
Before Twitch could even take a nano-klik to reconsider, he fired. Shattering one of the windows closest to the ground, Bumblebee watched stoically as the glass splintered across the stone. Pink liquid gushed from the opening, spilling out and over everything. A beat later, Mandroid’s head followed, wet and slimy.
Twitch flinched back, olfactory sensor wrinkling.
Her mentor’s pede raised, and with a sickening crunch, his full weight crashed down onto Mandroid’s helm. Skin, trace patches of hair, entrails, and bone exploded out in every which direction, and–
Twitch snapped her helm away, offlining her optics as her tanks rolled over in disgust. “Oh, yup. Yup. I think you’re right, Bee! Looking away was a good idea!”
Bumblebee chuckled grimly. “Yeah… sorry, Twitch.”
“Don’t apologize to her!” Thrash cried. Even though he hadn’t looked at the messy scene, he was still gagging. “She was the one to decide to be stubborn!”
Bumblebee gave a weak smile, but there was no mirth in it, even as he rested his servos against their back struts. “Well,” he said, “in any case, it’s over now. Let’s go home.”
“Please,” Twitch responded desperately, trying to ward off the image of Mandroid’s head being squashed.
Bumblebee gave a firm nod. With one fluid motion, he scooped them both up and settled them on his shoulders. Atop his helm, their digits remained joined together.
As he turned to start descending down the cliff, Twitch squeezed her optics shut to avoid catching a glimpse of the bloody, messy scene left behind. She didn’t think they’d be turning it into a clubhouse any time soon.
“Bee,” she said softly once the air changed and she knew their helms were below the cliff-face. “I can fly Thrash and I down, you know. It’ll probably be faster.”
Bumblebee offered nothing more than a soft nod in return, not slowing in his descent. “If that’s what you want.”
Despite Twitch’s offer, neither she nor Thrash moved a centimeter. They remained perched upon their brother’s shoulders as he carefully and gradually continued climbing.
Down below, Twitch could spot the rest of their family waiting for them. Autobots and Decepticons alike were socializing with the Maltos and even with each other. Together, they were all talking and laughing and loving. G.H.O.S.T. was gone, the Decepticons were happy, Mandroid was dead. Finally, their fights for the day were over.
Twitch could finally relax.
She clicked off her tactical vision, ready for the world to shift back into focus.
It remained a bright orange. Um. What?
Twitch shifted it on again, and then flicked it off. Still orange. Toggling it on and off in quick succession, Twitch waited for something to change, but nothing did.
No, no, that didn’t make sense!
Peering down at her family, Twitch felt a curdling wave of horror in her tanks as she discovered that Hashtag’s purple and Nightshade’s green were gone.
At least Jawbreaker was still orange – Twitch had never told the youngest that he bore her least favourite colour – but it all blended together instead of neatly being broken up by reds and greens. He didn’t have much in the way of dimension.
“Um, Twitch?” Thrash asked, and she looked up in a ragged mix of alarm and confusion.
The distraction he provided was ripped away instantly when she took in her twin’s orange, orange face. “You’re kinda… killing my servo there.”
“Ah!” Twitch let go, a surge of guilt filling her at how hard she had been clutching him. “Scrap, sorry, sorry!”
“Language,” Bumblebee said mildly, though it was obvious he no longer cared quite as much anymore.
“It’s cool,” Thrash told her gently. Reaching out, he retook her servo but adjusted so that only he was doing any actual holding. Within his grip, her digits limply sat. “But… are you doing okay, Twitch?”
Thrash looked bizarre in orange, even though she had thought that was his original colour for a solid week. The colour had become synonymous with danger in recent months. Twitch had to coax her warning protocols back, even as they reported that Thrash’s sparkrate was elevated and that Bumblebee was favouring one arm over the other.
Maybe… Maybe their miraculous older siblings hadn’t healed everything. Just what they knew about. They wouldn’t know her tactical vision could break and get stuck, so… they hadn’t healed it. That would explain why Bumblebee’s arm was still damaged, too, apparent only in the way he used it while finding a servo-hold.
Her oldest brother didn’t have enough medical knowledge to fix her. She had learned that the longer she had spent time with him. Wheeljack probably didn’t, either, but she’d ask him later.
When it wouldn’t worry her family and make Robby and Mo feel guilty. They couldn’t fix her now that the Emberstone was gone, after all.
“Yeah,” she smiled brightly. “Sorry, I’m just… I’m tired. It’s been a big day.”
“Mm,” Bumblebee murmured below them. “Don’t worry, you two. As soon as we get home, we’ll get you both off to recharge.”
Any other day, any other adventure, Twitch would be relieved by the promise. How long she had waited for Bumblebee to come home, and then waited for him to recover from getting his energon drained.
Unfortunately, Twitch knew now that as a Terran – Cybertronian, whatever – she couldn’t recharge and wake up feeling fine the next day. Her tactical vision was stuck unless actual repairs could be done.
She had seen how the Autobots had reacted when Bumblebee had come back from Bot Brawl, broken. They had winged it to the best of their ability, attempting to piece the scout back together, keeping an optic on him. Yet he was still hurt. Even with all their attempts to piece him back together, they couldn’t do anything.
Over and over again, Twitch had been told that Wheeljack, their “stand in medic”, knew the bare minimum of medical procedures. He could patch together a bad scrape, but anything else? Anything internal? That was up in the air.
Numbly, she rubbed at her optics in the same manner she had seen her human family do when they had a piece of dust afflicting them. It didn’t do anything. Everything was just as spark-wrenchingly orange as it had been a nano-klik before.
Bumblebee finally lowered them onto the ground, leaning down to allow them the time to clamber off his pauldrons and onto the ground. As they were joined by the other Maltos, excited chatting and joyfully musing toppling out of their intakes, Bumblebee peeled away to talk with Optimus.
Twitch’s gaze followed him, tracking his stiff posture, the slight quiver of her doorwings.
But Optimus was all smiles for his scout, so Twitch pulled her gaze away for the time being, looking over her family. They all looked tired, but nobody else had any readable damage as far as she could tell.
“Are my babies all okay?” Dot asked, lips pulled into a tired frown, looking them all over.
“We’re resilient!” Hashtag promised, flexing. “We’re just glad you’re okay, too, guys. We saw you get eaten.”
“That’s certainly an experience I never want to relive,” Alex agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m ready to dismiss this whole thing as a bad dream if you all are.”
“Yeah,” Thrash said thickly, wrapping his arms firmly around Twitch’s arm. “I’m so ready to go home!”
Hashtag flipped into her alt mode, popping open her door so that their human half of their family could climb in. The G.H.O.S.T. agents watching nearby let out a quiet “oooh…” of understanding to Twitch’s utmost amusement. She recognized them as the humans who had kidnapped her sister all those months ago.
Bumblebee stepped up beside them once again, a servo gently resting on the top of Hashtag’s alt mode as he watched the humans tumble in. “Everyone’s here and accounted for?” A bundle of nods greeted him, and he offered a smile. “Okay, great. Let’s start heading home.”
Twitch suddenly had a wave of doubt, and she frowned. “Wait. I think Shockwave might still be there. I didn’t see him anywhere else tonight, and I don’t want to just… kick him out if home is safe, you know?”
“Shockwave was at the dugout?” Bumblebee repeated, a touch of barely-veiled fear in his tone. “Okay– I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll handle him.”
“You shouldn’t need to,” Twitch protested. “He’s… I mean, I’m scared of him, too. I’ve heard of all the awful things he’s done. Uncle Megs told us that he wanted to turn protoforms, like us, into soldiers.”
“You became soldiers anyway.” Bumblebee said softly, quietly enough that it was clear he wasn’t intending them to hear.
Shaking off that morbid thought, Twitch pressed on. “But… he wasn’t trying to force us to fight. He helped us call the Autobots to defend us against G.H.O.S.T.! I’m not scared that he’s at the dugout right now.”
“Huh,” Bumblebee mildly nodded. HIs grip pulled awkwardly, digits slipping. He caught himself, and continued on as if nothing happened. “Well, then, I’ll just politely ask him to vacate. “The other Decepticons are at the tower”, and all that.”
“Thank you for listening,” Twitch beamed down at him. She wrapped her free arm around his helm, squeezing tightly. “You always listen, Bee. It means so much.”
He always listened, which made it so much easier for him to worry. With sinking dread, Twitch realized that she couldn’t tell him that her vision was stuck. He’d try so hard to find her a solution, but Twitch had spent months watching him.
She knew that he didn’t have what he needed to help. The Autobots were so bad at sending him supplies, even when he specifically requested them.
With all Bumblebee had gone through recently, he… deserved to be allowed to relax. Not run himself into a wall a billion times over trying to tweak Twitch’s optics until they worked.
Wheeljack was Twitch’s best bet. She wouldn’t worry anyone else with this.
The orange wasn’t… that bad. She’d do better living with it this time around then she had before. She was certain of it.
(:)
With the Decepticons on their side, and no enemies against them anymore, things were starting to go back to normal. There wasn’t as much danger in their lives.
They were getting back to a peaceful status quo, and most of their days were spent playing or training under Bumblebee’s watchful optics while the Autobots and Decepticons tried to find the Embershards.
Wheeljack had been sympathetic to no end when Twitch had talked to him about his optics, but… he didn’t have anything to fix her.
He had said Shockwave might have something for her, and Twitch wanted to trust him, but it was Shockwave. Having him close by the dugout, teaching them how to send out a distress signal, was a lot different from him digging around in her optics or, worse, her processor.
Wheeljack shared her sentiment, so for now, Twitch was stuck with orange invading her gaze wherever she looked.
“Have faith, Twitch!” Wheeljack reassured, patting her helm. “Maybe your nanites will fix it!”
It had been two months since then. If Twitch even had nanites, they hadn’t done anything. Everything was still shades of vivid, aching orange.
Twitch could fake being able to see colour just fine now, because she already knew what colours everything was. She just shied away from handing Mo her markers or needing to compliment someone’s new outfit.
Everyone bought it, which did funny things to Twitch’s spark when she realized. She didn’t want them to know anyway, she reasoned, which meant it was perfectly allowable that they didn’t notice something was wrong with her!
It hurt anyway.
She started taking any excuse to leave the farm. After all, if she was out on a mission, why wouldn’t her tactical vision be activated? Of course she’d be too nervous to turn it off while out and about.
Which was exactly how she found herself in the woods two hours away from home with Bumblebee, trying to track down a lead on an Embershard.
“I keep forgetting how big two kilometers is.” Twitch mumbled, following Bumblebee through the woods as he ducked under a lopsided tree. “It’s so much distance to travel! Can’t they narrow down the search radius?”
“Okay, two kilometers – actually, one-point-eight-thirteen – is the radius.” Bumblebee corrected, scanning the undergrowth before looking back at his map, dermas twisted in frustration. “But we’re walking along the diameter, which is more like three-point-six-two-six kilometers. Multiple times, really, since we’re trying to search every meter of this place.”
Twitch groaned, kicking her pedes against the rocks on the ground. She had volunteered to come out here, and Bumblebee had made it very clear that they wouldn’t be heading back to the farmhouse until they found the shard. It would be a waste of energon, he had said, and that hadn’t bugged Twitch at the time.
More time with her big brother? Sign her up!
Now, though, a good couple hours later with the sun reaching high noon, Twitch dragged her pedes as she trudged after him. There was so much work involved for so little benefit.
“Anyway,” Bumblebee continued, “they’re trying to narrow down the signal for us, but with how dense this forest is, the signal tends to… bounce. It makes it hard for us to find an exact location. If it was in the middle of a field, we’d be back at the farmhouse already.”
“Ugh.” Twitch grumbled again, but she knew it was her own fault for getting herself stuck here. Bumblebee’s intention had been, originally, to go on his own. He hadn’t asked anyone to accompany him, Twitch had just gotten excited.
“The fact that we’re warframes makes it easier to track signals, too,” he stated, and boy, had Twitch heard this spiel before. “Our tactical vision has a built-in detector. So we don’t need handheld devices for this. Once we catch its trail, we’ll head straight to it.”
Bumblebee glanced back at her, a small smile touching his face plate. “But we can stop for a refuel soon. We’ve got to keep our energy up.”
“Yay,” Twitch deadpanned. Her gaze swept the woods, like she would see the glint of emerald green through the trees, beckoning at her. She knew it’d just blend in with the wretched orange of everything else, though.
She wondered if she would be able to find the shard before Bumblebee did, on account of her connection to it. It seemed unlikely. Hours of this, and not even a slight pulling on her spark, one direction or another.
Not that any of the Embershards they had collected thus far felt like anything particular. Even Robby and Mo couldn’t use them, the corruption from the shattered shards making a messy feedback loop.
“I think there’s a cave system near here,” Bumblebee muttered to himself thoughtfully, glancing at his map. “That could explain why it’s been so hard to narrow down the shard… The signal needs to bounce off of extra walls in order to get out. Being underground is a great way to interrupt signals.”
“Okay,” Twitch said thoughtfully. “So we just have to… go down there? Will it be easier to find it once we’re down?”
“I’m not sure,” Bumblebee said, ducking under a couple loose branches to start the walk towards the cliff face a few hundred meters away. “But we can at least give it a shot. We have to search every inch of this place anyway.”
“That’s true, that’s true,” Twitch obediently nodded her helm, zipping ahead to start trailing across the perimeter, desperate to find the opening. “Let’s find that cave!”
Bumblebee laughed politely, trailing after her. “Keep your optics open. If you see the cave before I do, wait for me, call me over. Okay?”
“I can do that!” Twitch agreed with a shout over his shoulder.
Her rotors and blades fluttered anxiously as she swiveled through the trees, pressing her servos along the cliff walls and then doublebacking to search the other side. Bumblebee was trailing along the rock, keeping his digits trailing along the side, but his optics remained locked on the ground.
Which was funny, but Twitch wasn’t going to ask questions. Her big brother knew best, after all.
She got all the way to the end, when it started to squish back down into the earth, evening out, but didn’t locate any holes in the cave wall. Frustrated, Twitch huffed in annoyance and turned back to Bumblebee.
“I didn’t find anything!” She called, irritated. “Maybe it’s up high! I can fly up and check it out!”
“Hold on a klik,” Bumblebee instructed, gaze split between the tracking device and the ground as he peeled away from the cliff face, pacing away several steps. “I think I saw…” He trailed off, kneeling next to a tilted tree, waving one arm towards her. “Twitch! Over here!”
Twitch flew over to his side, excitement pushing through her as she peered down at what he was looking at. It was a hole in the ground, dark and big. She couldn’t see any light down there, which wasn’t really much of a surprise. Her vision couldn’t detect anything beyond the opening, really.
Sometimes, she wished she could see the teal glow cave water gave off. Or maybe even the red ue that her siblings claimed the Embershards had taken on. She hated being as stuck as she was.
“Are you sure it’s going to be in there?” Twitch asked, risking exposing her secret in case there actually was just something, a colour, that she was missing.
Bumblebee frowned, appearing to be just as oblivious as she was, blinking into the abyss. It occurred to her that he might be wearing his tactical vision, too, and could’ve missed the difference in colour. “Nope! Let’s go.”
Twitch could’ve laughed, watching Bumblebee brighten up with fake bravado. Even though she logically knew he must be terrified out of his mind, he was still putting in such a big effort to help her.
It was supposed to be endearing, to make her feel better, more confident, she knew. Maybe it was working on some level, because all Twitch could do was laugh at how he was acting. “Do you want me to go in first?”
“I’ve got it,” Bumblebee reassured, activating his headlights to illuminate the rocks below. Twitch’s vision lit up, finally able to make out the finer details of the rock. Tension she was unaware that she was holding disappeared in an instant, even faster than it did when she had laughed.
Twitch waited for him to jump down and call out an “It’s all clear!” for her to follow, sweeping in after him. He might have the lights, but Twitch had the ability to hover, and could’ve tested that the ground was safe. Bumblebee knew that, but he was always going first anyway.
She kind of loved how protective Bumblebee was about her, about all of them.
They were his family. And he was theirs.
It made her feel a little bit guilty about not telling him about her failing vision, but he was already this protective. Why worry him more about something so inconsequential?
Twitch flew after him, giggling when Bumblebee lifted his arms for her to descend into, pulling her into a tight hug and then planting her firmly on his shoulder.
“Keep your optics peeled,” Bumblebee ordered, headlights swerving back and forth as he marched on, patting her knee. “Anything glowing or looks odd, let me know and we’ll investigate. It’s no big deal if we don’t find it, either. It might not be in here after all.”
“I’m sure we’ll find it!” Twitch reassured, patting the top of his helm, swinging her legs merrily. “Not too much longer, right?”
“Right.” Bumblebee agreed, taking another big step. “I hope so, Twitch. I don’t like having you out here for longer than you have to.”
Twitch hummed thoughtfully. She was thankful for the momentary rest Bumblebee was offering her. Excited as she was to go home, she didn’t mind being with Bumblebee a little longer as long as she wasn’t overextending herself.
It didn’t take that much longer before Bumblebee clicked out a quiet whistle, snapping his digits towards one of the rock walls. “Twitch. Whirlybird. Look over there.”
Twitch followed the point of his digit, but didn’t see anything interesting. Regardless, she squinted and shoved off her shoulder to fly towards it, pressing her digits against the rocks. Her shadow blocked the headlights and made it hard to see what she was supposed to be seeing. “What is it?”
There was a small pause, just long enough for her to regret talking, and then Bumblebee slowly said “Um. The glowing thing to your left, Twitch. Eight o’clock.”
Oh, eight o-clock. She could do that. Twitch twisted to the side so that Bumblebee’s headlights illuminated the wall to the side. She turned her helm, digits smoothing over the rock until she found one of different texture. Now, that, that felt like an Embershard.
“I think you’re right,” Twitch said, twisting her digits around it and wiggling so that it would come free from the rock wall. Bumblebee muttered out a “careful,” but what was removing one tiny little shard going to do?
Twitch hissed when it didn’t immediately give, reaching back to grab her blades.
“Woah, what are you doing? Don’t use your blades on things like this!” Bumblebee corrected, lunging forward to stop her. “Don’t even use your blaster. You have claws, whirlybird. Use them.”
Twitch nodded, deflating slightly even as she lowered her thumb to flick away the claw cap on her pointer digit and then shoved away her thumb cap, too. She had been born with the caps, and just like her vision, it had taken them an embarrassingly long time to figure them out.
It had taken a bit of prying from Bumblebee for her to actually even try to unsheath them, because it had looked more like a transformation seam and she didn’t want to break something! But hey, it turned out she had a lot more tools than the obvious ones.
Twitch tucked her claws underneath the shard as best she could, planting her pedes against the wall and allowing her rotors to begin to roar as she began to shove backwards. She hissed between her dentas, optics squinted and furious.
“Careful,” Bumblebee repeated for what felt like the millionth time, servos hovering around her shoulders.
“Stop it,” Twitch hissed, craning her helm backwards and activating her boosters
With one final tug, she came free, tumbling over herself and straight into Bumblebee’s waiting servos. She kept her grip tight on the Embershard, cradling it to her chassis, looking up at him with an awkward smile. “Oops?”
“I told you–”
“Oh, shut up!” Twitch giggled, shoving a servo into his face. “I know, I know, but look! Nothing happened to us! We’re all completely, totally–!”
The rocks began to rumble, and Bumblebee gave a low vent of pure frustration at the sound, craning his helm up to look up. The lights didn’t illuminate the ceiling, though, and the tense staring lasted far longer than it probably should have.
“Scraplets,” Bumblebee cursed, tucking Twitch under his arm before she even had a chance to start flying by herself. “We’ve gotta move!” He was running before Twitch could even begin to wriggle herself free, pivoting on his heel strut and practically diving back the way he had come.
The soft dappled glow was lighting up some of the rocks in front of them, still a distance away. Despite Twitch wanting to be let go, she curled up tight as Bumblebee dashed along, knowing it would make her as inconvenient as possible.
She felt the tickle of rocks hitting her plating a nano-klik before Bumblebee suddenly came to a stop, throwing her to the ground and curling around on top of her defensively. Twitch felt the sharp impact of rocks through Bumblebee’s frame, even as he tried to protect her. He grunted as the rocks landing knocked the air out of his filtration systems.
The moment the rumbling stopped even a little, Bumblebee was back upright again, running for the opening. He jumped up, managing to snag his digits around one of the rocks and using it to pull himself up halfway to the opening.
“Need my servos free,” Bumblebee hissed, lifting her as high as he could with his arm. Twitch activated her rotors and flew up through the hole, breaking free into the light and the freedom.
Bumblebee was up right after her, dragging himself up the rest of the way and tumbling into a haphazard mess on the ground.
“Bee, we’ve gotta get away from the cave,” Twitch pleaded, reaching down to seize his servo and start to tug him upright again. “It could collapse right underneath us!”
“You’ve got the Embershard?” Bumblebee asked, dragging himself up to his pedes as he hurried to chase after her. “You’ve got it?”
Twitch held up the stone, praying it was as red as she assumed, looking back at him with a smile. “I think so!”
“You have it,” Bumblebee hummed in relief, taking a clumsy step towards her. “Good, good. Thank Primus.”
“I know,” Twitch said, pulling him along even as he stumbled. She didn’t like how janky he felt, but there would be time to analyze later, once the ground stopped shaking under their pedes. “Just, come on, we have to keep going!”
“Right,” Bumblebee said, trying to speed up but just proceeding to falter over his steps more. “Sorry, I– I’m coming, I’m coming–”
By the time he got his footing, the rumbling had ceased, smoothing into the quiet ambiance of the forest. Still, Twitch continued to drag them for a few more kliks before Bumblebee suddenly ground his pedes in and stopped her abruptly.
“We’re okay,” Bumblebee blubbered out unsteadily, blinking at her heavily. “We’re okay, Twitch, we’re… far enough away, now. It’s okay.”
“We’re okay,” Twitch echoed, slowing to an anxious stop and peering out around him. Her sensors weren’t picking up on any unstable ground, but that didn’t exactly make her necessarily confident.
She hadn’t detected any before they went down into the caves, after all, and one tiny shard wasn’t supposed to upset the entire balance of the cave!
“Let me see.” Bumblebee asked, holding out his servo.
Twitch dropped it in, watching his digits curl around it protectively. “That’s it, alright!” Bumblebee said, holding it to his chassis with another rasp.
Twitch frowned up at him. “Are you okay? You sound like Robby with a bad cold.”
Her mentor half-startled, focusing in on her. “Oh– I’m fine. I’m fine, Twitch. Just… double checking.” He heaved in a sharp vent, holding the shard back for her.
She seized it up immediately, suddenly doubtful how much she actually trusted him with it. “Are you sure?” She demanded.
Bumblebee stared back for another nano-klik, and her optics scanned him over, searching him for anything wrong she could’ve missed.
He was still the same familiar, if not frustrating, orange. There were no dents she could make out, no chinks in his armor. He looked identical, same as always.
Not exactly satisfied, but as close as she was going to get, Twitch frowned. “I don’t get it,” she muttered to herself. “I thought for sure…”
“Twitch, I- I’m fine if you are. Promise.” Bumblebee falteringly told her, but she just really did not believe that in the slightest. How could she, when his whole frame was trembling?
She thought of the rocks falling on him, and immediately cringed. “No,” she argued immediately. “You’re not! I can tell you’re hurt. Turn around, let me look at you!”
Bumblebee remained frozen for a few nano-kliks longer, staring at her as intently as he could when his gaze kept flickering in and out of view.
She put her servos on her hips, just to let him know she meant business. “Turn around,” she hissed again through gritted denta, waiting impatiently for him to obey.
By the time he finally did, she had already begun considering flying up to get a look for herself. As he slowly turned, she didn’t spit any damage to his backside, but her technical vision did. Damage reports scrawled through her perspective faster than she could keep up with , circling abrasions she couldn’t see and reciting damage that appeared to not exist.
The lack of differentiation between the textures was starting to grate on her. She was good at body language, at noticing fine trembles. But actual damage was near impossible.
She would almost feel better if it was all internal, but she genuinely could not tell.
Gingerly, Twitch reached out to feel the armor and seek out the damage. Her digits dipped into something wet and slightly warm and hard all at once, and underneath her touch Bumblebee flinched.
“Looks worse than it is,” he hissed, snapping away from her a few steps. “You don’t have to worry.”
“It doesn’t “look” like anything!” Twitch immediately argued, rubbing her digits together. Squinting down at them, she tried to see the difference in colour and couldn’t. “So it’s either worse or it doesn’t exist but my reports have never looked wrong before!”
“It’s- It’s not that bad,” Bumblebee reiterated, arms lifting to awkwardly curl over his chassis. “Stings… a little. That’s it.”
Twitch scoffed at him, turning to feel his back again, digits poking at the edges and slowly trailing up until they felt the wet again. For a nano-klik, she almost deliriously let herself believe it was just water. But it was late enough in the day that any morning dew would’ve already evaporated, and it wasn’t raining, and–
Bumblebee suddenly stiffened, turning his helm slightly to stare at her over his shoulder. “Wait, energon’s not…? How don’t you– I can… Twitch, I can see it–?”
Twitch tightened her jaw, carefully not saying anything else as she felt along the wet, the stuff that was definitely energon but blended in with everything else. She was sick of not being able to differentiate. If she squinted she might be able to see a slight hue shift, but it just wasn’t enough for anything concrete.
“Twitch,” Bumblebee said, still stumbling over his words. “Turn off your– you need to turn off your technical–”
“I know.” Twitch hissed, even though she knew that it was impossible. “Did you bring your medical kit? I need to get this patched up.” She’d do a bad job, but she could at least try. Get the leaking to stop before she darted off for help.
“It’s in the…” Bumblebee trailed off, staring at her for a long nano-klik. He turned around slowly, reaching down to fumble to grab her shoulders and push her back to the ground. He kneeled himself, blinking at her heavily even as his door wings flicked in weak shudders. “Twitch. What’s wrong with your optics?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” Twitch immediately protested, reaching out to grab his face and hold him, too. “You– You’re hurt. I have to… I don’t like you being hurt. I have to fix it! I can fix it, I just need your medical kit–!”
Bumblebee’s face pinched, studying her face intently even as he swayed in and out of himself. “Twitch. Twitch, it’s– it’s fine, but your optics… if they got damaged down there, I need to know–!”
“They didn’t!” Twitch promised, and at least that wasn’t a lie. “But you’re… you’re leaking. Let me help you!”
Bumblebee’s whole frame tensed for a nano-klik, and then he finally released a quiet vent, reaching into his subspace and pulling out the small kit. It was too small. It wouldn’t have enough dressing for his back strut. It might barely have enough for her within it.
“Bee,” Twitch said, her voice rattling over itself. “This isn’t going to be enough. This…”
“It’s first aid.” He told her softly. “It’s preventative, it’ll… stop it from getting worse, but it’s not a cure-all.”
“I have to get more stuff for you.” She realized, shaking as she turned to look around her. “I don’t know where to… I have to get Mom and Wheeljack. They can fix this.”
Bumblebee nodded at her, having to shift to take a weak knee. “You have the Embershard?”
“I have it.” Twitch said, tightening her grip on it again.
“Make sure it’s safe first.” Bumblebee made her promise, staring her deep in the optics. His grip trembled, but at least his optics started to focus on her again after a long nano-klik. “And then come back.”
“I will.” Twitch promised, starting to buzz up as he handed her the map, squeezing her servo as he passed it off to her.
“Comm them as soon as you’re out of the forest. It’ll save time–”
“I know,” Twitch promised, checking it quickly. “I know, I’ll be quick.”
Bumblebee gave her one last nod, and then she was gone, darting through the trees and buzzing away as quickly as possible.
(:)
Two hours later, as her family thundered through the woods on her heel struts, following behind her to help, she wondered if she should’ve stayed with him until he was patched up, but if he was still able to stand…
It didn’t matter. Robby and Mo were in possession of the Embershard and were trying to figure out where it belonged with the rest of the shattered bits.
And Mom, Dad, and Wheeljack were on her heel struts, following closely after. They’d be back with Bumblebee in no time, she hoped.
He wasn’t responding to her calls, though, his end of the commline nothing but static. She didn’t get it. Didn’t get why he wouldn’t respond. Maybe it had something to do with the woods, maybe he was distracted, but it was concerning.
“And you said the ground was unsteady?” Wheeljack asked, peeling after her.
“No! We got away from it!” Twitch responded immediately, voice tumbling over itself. “I think? I don’t know! I just don’t know!”
“We’ll find him, Twitch,” Dot promised, leaning out Wheeljack’s window to shout it at her. “It’ll be okay.”
It better be. It better be, or she’d never forgive herself for abandoning him, for leaving him in pain and agony. She would’ve stayed too, probably, if he hadn’t called her out on her vision. Too afraid she’d get in trouble, she supposed, but that was no excuse for leaving him in trouble, that was no excuse–
Light reflecting off what she hoped was metal hit her gaze, and she managed to twist just in time to spot Bumblebee before the trees hid him from view. “He’s over there!" Twitch barked, pivoting midair to start for him, instead. Wheeljack swerved to follow, and she heard her mom hiss as she ducked back within his cabin.
Wheeljack’s doors popped open as he came to a stop for the humans to scramble out of him, heading for Bumblebee. Obviously, Twitch beat them to him, kneeling at his side.
Bumblebee, for his part, was reclining against a tree, medical kit missing but gauze poking out from behind his back where he had very clearly got all of the dressing in place. He blinked sleepily up at her when she arrived, a small smile lighting up his face plate.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “You’re back.”
“I’m back!” Twitch agreed, reaching out to cradle his faceplate. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I almost didn’t…” she swallowed it back almost immediately. He didn’t need more incentive to figure out what was wrong with her optics. “Wheeljack brought some supplies.”
“New fuel lines, a welding kit…” Wheeljack agreed, joining their sides, kneeling down to grab Bumblebee’s shoulder and pull him forward. Bumblebee let him be pulled along with only a quiet hiss. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
“That’d be nice,” Bumblebee chuckled, but winced as he was dragged forward.
“Hold on, this’ll hurt for a klik…”
“Can’t be worse then–” Bumblebee cut off with a cry as Wheeljack ripped a broken fuel line out of his back, leaning so far forward his forehelm almost touched his knees. “Okay! Okay, got it, that– Ow.”
“Are you okay, baby?” Dot asked, kneeling at his side. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner, we took the family van for a bit before Wheeljack was able to catch up, and it’s pretty clunky.”
“We ditched it on the side of the road!” Alex agreed. “I hope it doesn’t get towed.”
“It won’t,” Bumblebee reassured, but he only sounded half there as Wheeljack tugged a few more free. “It– ow. It’ll be fine, I'm sure of it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Dot said, but her attention was more on Bumblebee than in the past. “A cave in, huh?”
“Pretty nasty,” Bumblebee agreed with a tired chuckle. “But we got the Embershard, right?”
“I told you we did. I showed you.” Twitch said in confusion, frowning at him. “How didn’t…?”
“We did! Robby and Mo are taking care of it now!” Alex promised, sitting down on Bumblebee’s opposite side from Dot.
“Well, maybe my tactical vision was turned on, too,” Bumblebee scoffed, ignoring Alex. “Had to be on the lookout for collapsing ground, don’t you know. Wasn’t sure if it was red or not, and you definitely didn’t know.”
Twitch recoiled, scoffing at him even as her panic sensors began to whirl upwards in a vigorous spiral. She didn’t think Bumblebee knew for sure about her vision. One conversation, and one diverted topic, wasn’t nearly enough for him to figure it out, right? If so, that was so unfair. It was awful.
Wheeljack, however, had gone still on Bumblebee’s back, pinched optics finding Twitch, furrowed and confused.
“Oh, frag,” Bumblebee hissed, ignoring Alex’s murmured “language” as he turned his helm to look up at Wheeljack, feeling the sudden pause. “Don’t tell me you knew, too!”
“No?” Wheeljack squeaked awkwardly.
“Know what?” Dot asked, frowning up at him. “Did you know they were tracking a dangerous shard?”
“No!” Wheeljack reassured. “I didn’t know that bit! Swear on Primus’ name! That was a mistake!”
“Then what’s going on?” Alex asked.
“It’s nothing,” Twitch told them. “I think, anyway, Bumblebee’s a little weird right now because he’s lost so much energon! I knew I should've stayed with you longer! Or just doubled back as soon as I got them on the comms with me…”
“No, the Embershard had to be safe first,” Bumblebee huffed at her, frustrated. “That was a good thing. What wasn’t a good thing was the fact that you hid that your technical vision got stuck! Again!”
“Told you to say something,” Wheeljack said.
“It is not!” Twitch barked, snapping up his helm to glare up at him. “It’s not stuck, I’m just trying to– to utilize it more!”
“To the point where you won’t turn it off?” Bumblebee demanded. “Yeah, sure, great difference. It’s still not ever shutting off. You needed me to point out the glowing red rock to you instead of switching back yourself!”
Twitch winced, flinching back enough that Alex’s hand found her shoulder and stabilized her. “I! I just forgot! You can’t get after me for forgetting!”
“You couldn’t see bright purple energon!” Bumblebee spat at her. “That’s not you forgetting, that’s– That’s dangerous, Twitch! If you can’t filter between settings, and if you’re in on it–!” He jabbed a digit at Wheeljack, who just smacked away his digit and leaned down to begin connecting some wires. Bumblebee kicked uneasily, hissing through his vents.
“Your optics are broken again?” Alex realized, turning to Twitch. “Why didn’t you talk to us?”
Twitch deflated, finally giving up, dipping her helm at the sound of her dad’s disappointment. “It was manageable! I know how to work with it. It’s better than it was.”
“Better than it was? Twitch! Honey!” Dot scolded. “And Wheeljack, how could you not tell us? This is our daughter we’re talking about! You have to tell us when things go wrong!”
“I told her she had to tell you!” Wheeljack said, “But I wasn’t going to make her do anything! I’m not part of this!”
“Hey!” Twitch bristled, glaring up at him. He was supposed to be on her side! They were bonded.
He shrugged back at her, helpless.
“Well, does it even matter?” Twitch scoffed. “Wheeljack doesn't know how to fix it, and I’m not asking Shockwave to try. Unless my nanites can fix it, I’m stuck like this.”
“And that’s not looking too likely.” Wheeljack added with a sigh. “Hopefully it’ll clear up, but… I don’t know. I don’t know if she will.”
“You could’ve told us!” Dot said, reaching out across Bumblebee’s legs to hold Twitch’s servo. “We need to know that kind of thing, Twitch! So we can help and adjust! Especially if you’re on a mission like this, everyone needs to know everything about each other! And we’re your family, we want to look after you!”
“I don’t need–” Twitch said, stumbling over herself. “I don’t need you guys to look after me! I just want– I’m doing fine. I’m doing fine, I promise!”
They stared at her intently, concern and frustration passing through their gazes, and Twitch melted. “I’m fine.” She said quietly.
They sighed, and Alex reached out to fully wrap her into a hug.
“Twitch, you don’t have to be strong about this…” Alex told her slowly. “I mean, look at Bumblebee! He sent you to get help for him, because he was careful! You should follow his example.”
Dot groaned, which just mimicked Twitch’s own thoughts. Bumblebee was really bad at asking for help, actually. She had witnessed him try to sidebar his own health for the sake of them so many times that it just… it stunk. Really, really bad. She wished he would just take care of himself, but she knew him better than that. Of course he wouldn’t.
It wasn’t really her fault she was following his example, if she thought about it. It was just natural, what with him being her big brother and all.
“You both could do better about asking for help.” Dot said outloud, reaching out to hold Bumblebee’s servo, too. “And we can wait until later to tackle that line of thought, unless you have any more secrets you’ve been hiding?”
“No.” Twitch said immediately, pretty sure she was telling the truth. She rubbed at her optics anyway, as if that would solve things. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“I hope so, sweetie.” Dot squeezed her servo.
“Is there any way we can fix her vision, or just help?” Alex asked Wheeljack. “Maybe we can get robot glasses for her!”
“That won’t work,” Wheeljack said apologetically. “Visors are the closest we have, but they’re typically used to give non-warframes technical vision, not normal vision, and I really am lost about how to repair her optics.”
“Yeah.” Bumblebee scoffed. “That’s a Cybertron problem, if we ever get that spacebridge working again.”
“We will!” Wheeljack promised. “We will. Shockwave and I are actively working on it! We’ll be able to figure this out.”
“We’ll take care of this as best we can.” Alex promised, leaning into Twitch’s view to smile at her. “We’ll help, I promise.”
There was no real fixing this, not really. Twitch knew better. But, she still nudged her first dad anyway, smiling at him nervously. “Okay. We’ll… we’ll try. It’s really not all that bad, really! It still tells me when people are hurt, and I can still see! It’s just harder to make out details.”
“I know, baby, but we still have to adjust.” Dot continued. “Tell us next time when you get hurt! That was important to know. Maybe Robby and Mo can fix it after the Emberstone is repaired.”
Oh, Twitch hoped so. She really, really hoped so.
“Maybe,” she said, nervous at the prospect of that failing. “But that’s still a long way out, and we have more to find and recover, and…”
“We’ll find them.” Bumblebee insisted. “We’re making good progress, and as long as the Decepticons are helping…”
Right. Right. They had a bigger support group now, no longer puppeteered by G.H.O.S.T.. Twitch could only really hope that it would be enough, though.
She rubbed her optics again. It took care of nothing, obviously, but it helped a little with the influx of information flooding her gaze as she stared at her family. “We’ll find them.” She agreed softly.
She hoped it was sooner rather than later.
Twitch doubted it would be, but if she got her optics fixed… Then she’d white-knuckle that hope.
That’d be enough, and she was… grateful her family had her back. She really, really was. Even if she did wish they never found out about her.
But that was okay. She was okay.
And soon, Bumblebee would be too.