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When it really came down to it, Bulkhead hated feeling powerless. Especially in regards to anything concerning his friends.
He liked to problem solve, always had in fact. Even from all the way back to his time on the energon farm, he made sure to keep busy in whatever way he could. Because it felt good being needed and even better when his contributions noticeably helped out others—whether that meant his wrecking ball tore down obstacles twice his size or his computer whirled away in computation to calculate for repairs.
Bulkhead grew restless otherwise. It didn't sit right within his circuitry to stand by and do nothing but take up space. So while he wouldn't necessarily consider himself a leader, Bulk would never step away from the mantle of taking charge if bots relied on him to do so.
And… for as much as he felt guilty about it, that—in part—held a big appeal in why Bulkhead loved being Bee's friend.
Bumblebee by contrast tried hard to never ask for assistance ever and often made things worse for his efforts, backing off only when no other option presented itself. For every attempt out of ten, he couldn't handle things on his own. And upon realizing that, he'd finally give in to find help in the form of another bot.
More often than not, he'd seek out Bulkhead first before anyone else. He wasn't exactly the discreet option per se, but Bee wasn't looking for subtlety—he needed consistency. And Bulkhead had that in spades. Plus, if the two of them couldn't figure out how to undo Bee's mess—which wasn't likely, not with Bulkhead on the case—he'd rope in Boss-bot or Ratchet or even Prowl if the situation called for it. No matter Bee's whinging about how they didn't need to let anyone else know about his screw up.
Bumblebee presented problems, Bulkhead offered solutions.
His little buddy always needed a helping servo in some form or other, even if he tried every avenue first to avoid admitting it. Other more reasonable mechs would have long since cut him off, not wanting to tolerate the rude and prickly attitude that embodied Bee. For a mech that messed up as often as he did, Bee always carried his helm up high, not wanting to admit fault where he could help it.
Not Bulkhead though, even if Bee tried to test the limits of his patience— He wouldn't abandon his friend. Even when he probably should. The whole situation with trying to find the Decepticon spy on Earth even proved as much. As he pulled Bee up from the cage formed by that landslide, Bulkhead felt so good knowing that Bee finally got it partially. Bulk didn't need to dream big to achieve everything he ever wanted in life, because he wanted little, simple things.
And that's why he put up with a lot more than any other mech ever would. Bulkhead never minded when Bee climbed all over his frame, using him as a step stool for more height or as a shield to protect him when scared, because he got a sense of satisfaction knowing that Bee went to him first and not any other bot.
Maybe he should want for Bee to grow up a little, become more self-sufficient and not reliant on others. But… where would that leave Bulkhead?
He wasn't stupid—furthest from it—he knew that if circumstances had even been slightly different… if he weren't so clumsy… Bumblebee would have never looked twice at him after boot camp. Their dreams were fundamentally different and only by happenstance crossed paths to overlap.
In another life, if Bee were the slightest bit more selfish, he would have move forward with his training. He wouldn't have gotten kicked in the aft and booted straight for an old-fashioned reprogramming as Sentinel placed him on the maintenance track.
Because in another world, Bumblebee wouldn't have taken the fall for Bulkhead, when by that point they could barely hold a civil conversation without Bee snubbing him in a backhanded compliment or mutter said off to the side.
Sure, they were friends now, but… Sometimes—not often, though—Bulkhead wondered if he would do it all over again on purpose this time. Knocking down that tower on Sentinel, to ensure that Bee would wind up on the same service pod as him. Learning to work alongside each other, showing Bumblebee that he could lean on Bulkhead and that he'd stand by his side.
Did that make Bulkhead selfish? A bad bot? He shook those thoughts away usually by convincing himself that his feelings on the matter had more to do with their crash landing on Earth, and meeting his best bud Sari, than anything else.
Somewhere closer to his spark he knew otherwise, an ugly truth:
Bulkhead needed Bee to need him, otherwise their friendship wouldn't exist.
Beyond unsettling him, those thoughts never really created any sort of issue in their day to day lives, so Bulkhead kept them quiet. Things were fine so long as Bee kept on running ahead and getting into all sorts of messes whilst Bulkhead exasperatedly trailed behind to hike him up and out of his pitfalls.
Until now.
Adjusting his grip, Bulkhead looked down apprehensively at the large bot cradled in his arms. Remnants of the explosion that occurred moments before lingered on that blue and yellow frame, smoke wafting up into the atmosphere from overheated components. Fanzone was likely on his way up, as the emergency response drones contained the fires before they could spread downward.
It had all happened so fast, Bulkhead still need to process it all. Him and Ratchet had been quietly discussing adjustments to the space bridge they were constructing at the top of Sumdac's tower. Ratchet wanted to ensure that they would have a designated egress, as apparently the incident involving the police captain nearly resulted with the stout man getting flattened by a bunch of startled Autobots. It had been a matter of working on the coordinate system, or linking the gateway between their planet and Earth to a specific pre-established hub, when out of nowhere the partially-constructed structure started going wild.
It rattled the entire top floor, sending out sparks that fritzed out nearby machines, drawing the attention of Sari and her father. And whatever had been causing the malfunction seemed far too much for Sari's inherent understanding of technology as not even she could find a way to stop the transwarp frequency from going haywire and spitting out well… whoever this was.
Ratchet let out a small sound beside him. Up till now, he had been working quietly as he went through the bot's coding to find discrepancies or pertinent tags that need immediate attention. His mobile pad displayed the fluctuating vitals of the strange mech, but unless an alert went out across his chassis screen, Ratchet kept his focus internal. Meanwhile, Sari and Sumdac had gone down to the ground floor to meet with Fanzone and explain the situation while them two stayed behind to hold down the fort.
And, ultimately, find out the identity of the mystery bot. Hopefully.
But Ratchet must have found something strange, because his optics went wide. He looked up and off into the distance, expressed harrowed, before he returned back to looking down at their unexpected guest.
"Everything okay, Ratchet?" he asked, worried.
"No, it's…" He disconnected from the smoldering medical port they had to pry open, the cable slithering back into his wrist. With a sigh, he ran a servo down his face. "You're not gonna believe it, hell I hardly do, but the data doesn't lie. Somehow this bot is… Bumblebee."
"What? Really?" Bulkhead reared back in shock, nearly losing his hold on– On Bumblebee? Quickly he caught his little buddy, and asked Ratchet, "Is he conscious? No wait, better question: is he alright? Any injuries?"
A series of mounting questions began to stack within his processor, threatening to topple over and just spill out from his intake. He could hardly start to form a priority order when his thoughts were racing. With little else to do, Bulkhead brought his attention back down to his arms.
This Bumblebee looked so… different—although, with fresh optics, Bulkhead could start to see the similarities in shape from the lips curved into a pout to even the structure of the headlight boots. The Elite Guard badge plastered onto the false-hood also did not escape notice. He never thought that he would see the day that his little buddy reach Elite Guard status, but here they were…
If their Bee decided to show up, then Bulk would put good credits on the amount of flaunting he would do. But, if this bot was also Bumblebee, then what could have possibly went wrong with their space bridge to result in it picking up a stray… alternate transwarp field? Bulkhead's computer grappled with the possibilities, narrowing down the two likely suspects as being that of a frequency from another reality entirely or… from their future?
A clip of one of Bee's horrid jokes played back in his computer, "'Quantum Computing'? Yeah, that's just me. I'm quantum. I compute. Entanglement is just what happens when I get my wires twisted. My bad!"
If the situation were any different, then he'd let out the snort of laughter free from his vocoder. Instead, he waited desperately for Ratchet to say something. He doubted that the medic would have an answer to any of the more technical questions he wanted to rattle off, but surely the medic would have one for the more pressing issue at hand— Was Bumblebee okay?
Ratchet didn't answer him for a moment. His concern grew worse by the klik, watching as the medic battled an internal war. A series of conflicted emotions raced across his facial sculpt, before he settled on a course of action.
"She's going to be fine. A little dinged from the explosion but… fine altogether."
At those words, Bulkhead immediately understood why Ratchet had held his tongue.
Any and all words died on his own. Bulkhead's optics flickered between the two, trying to let the information settle. Ratchet let him, waiting patiently with a look of regret and guilt. It must have been a hard choice to make and– Bulkhead was glad that it hadn't been up to him. Because he didn't know how to feel, if he should feel anything, so his processor focused on what it did best instead— Problem solve.
"Alright," he said with a shaky voice. "Gotcha." He gave himself another moment to collect himself before diving right in, "Is this o– our Bumblebee? Or one from another realty? Because I don't know if you remember or not, but there was that one time that Sumdac made an experimental invention that wound up sending Optimus, Bee, and Sari into another dimension altogether." He refrained from mentioning the machine by name, out of dignity and nothing else, "Is it possible that he snuck in those same schematic principles into this space bridge without any of us noticing, either on accident or purposefully?"
It felt wrong to throw the professor under the bus, but Bulkhead needed to feel on top of things. Needed to know that he could do something about the situation. Because if Sumdac was at fault then that was an easy fix. They could send this Bumblebee home—not that Bulkhead was trying to get rid of her!—and not have to worry about the stability of their own reality more than it already was shaken up by their fumbling with the Allspark.
He sniffled the rise of complicated and strong emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. "Optimus had said that there were a ton of different Bee's running around that hub-world. So then…? Is this like that?"
"Hard to say. Wasn't like I was there for that little adventure myself, and those three have been frustratingly sparse about what went down," Ratchet grumbled. "But if I had to take a professional guess, then… no." Bulkhead's spark dropped straight to his subspace department. "She's our Bee, no doubt about it. The thing about spark signatures is that they are shaped and formed by such specific circumstances during forging that not even split-twins share the exact same wavelength. You're good with numbers, I'm sure I don't need to explain the improbability of two spark signatures, from different realities no less, matching one to one."
Alright. Not an inter-dimensional mix-up. So she was from their future. He– Bulkhead could work with that. "And as for–?"
"Data doesn't lie," he interrupted. "Not only does it not lie, but it more often than not snitches. With my signature on the identity-tag too. It… Bumblebee should have gotten the chance to tell us hrm… herself. If Bee even realizes at this point in time or ever will considering we're dealing with time travel." Ratchet grit his teeth and clenched a fist. "What rotten luck. She isn't even awake to navigate this conversation and I'd feel much better if she were."
Bulkhead hadn't even considered that. Rejected the idea of it, then stumbled back around to considering the possibility that… That Bumblebee kept things close to the spark. Closer than Bulkhead thought previously. He didn't know why it rattled him that much—he knew that Bumblebee preferred to deal with things personally before seeking out others, but…
Did Bee not think that… Bulkhead could know? That out of everyone on the time, If– If this was something on Bee's mind already and not something that's explored in the far off future?
With a grimace, Ratchet moved closer, "Not much I can do about that, but wait for her to come out of stasis. I'll beg for forgiveness after I make sure she recovers. Give her here."
Ratchet pulled Bumblebee away from Bulkhead who felt the sudden urge to snatch back and hold… her tightly pressed against his chest. He had a thick build, with a lot of subspace compartments, so the likelihood of Bumblebee feeling or hearing the hum of his rapidly spinning spark was minimal. But that was entirely unreasonable and he'd do more harm than help by keeping her away from Ratchet, so she left his arms and was laid flat against the ground.
"I don't even know where to start," Ratchet admitted, sounding lost. "There's some form of… growth underneath her plating." He started prying up the protective coils on Bumblebee's neck, showing Bulkhead what he meant. A harshly scabbed over mass of flesh wove itself between wires and cables, forcefully integrating with it if the space bridge interception hadn't… Cooked it.
As they examined the frighteningly bizarre scene, she let out a groan—frame flinching and drawing them both back.
"Well, ask and ye shall receive I suppose," Ratchet said, giving her space. He gestured for Bulkhead to do the same but he ignored him.
Dull optics brightened, tired LEDs with a familiar dead pixel reflecting back at him. Bumblebee looked out of it, not processing much as her cameras tracked across the room before returning to Ratchet and dilating hard when they landed on Bulkhead.
"Bulk…head?" she whispered, mouth parted in disbelief. "You're… here? You're… you?"
A blue and black servo reached toward him, and Bulkhead practically tripped over himself to accept it. She needed him, of course she needed him, because Bumblebee no matter the frame would need Bulkhead, and Bulkhead would always rise to the occasion.
He wanted to reassure her, that of course he was, even though he probably wasn't the Bulkhead she thought, but she beat him to the punch.
And practically ripped his spark right out of its holster by asking, "You… Don't hate me anymore?"