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Tossing fitfully, Bumble curled deeper against Bulkhead's side. Distant squeals of tire on pavement from street racers and wandering crickets filtered through his stubby audials, the sounds muted but… loud.
Unfamiliar after a lifetime spent back on Cybertron.
In his proper time, the fate of the Earth often kept him awake whilst his comrades got some much needed rest. He'd wander the perimeter of their hideout and allow his computer to think itself to death over what he had done to two different worlds… Perhaps this was the Earth's revenge for his negligence, a punishment for thinking that he could escape his actions even though they hadn't happened yet.
What a mess, with no-one other than himself to blame.
With a frown, Bumble's digits unfurled in a slow and hesitant crawl. One arm wrapped around his mid-section—holding himself tight as he always did—whilst the other inched closer to Bulkhead's larger frame. His… friend, fell into rest far easier than he had with his engine rumbling pleasantly throughout the room.
Indulging in the circumstances that brought him back to a time where Bulk didn't hate him, Bumble let his digits spread against his grill, caressing the military green plating with a reverence he couldn't allow himself to act upon normally.
And with a confidence that only grew since his time spent in the past, Bumble thunked his helm against Bulkhead's chassis. He let out a pleased little sigh, feeling his frame unwind.
After all, it had been a very long time since he went to recharge in this room… and even longer still since the last time that Bulkhead willingly shared his presence with him. To think that Bumble could lay close beside him again, it nearly snuffed his spark in agony.
He knew it wouldn't last. How could it? Everyone had been hard at work trying to reverse the stray transwarp field that had swapped Bumblebee with Bumble Prime. Their confusion and exclamations had nearly set him into a panicked flight, but with the help of Bulkhead and Sumdac they had gotten everything under control. Now, he spent most of his days staying out of the way as he waited for a return home.
Bumble had tried to keep the details of his—their—future a secret, not wanting to ruin a good thing… but even he worried privately about how his younger self was faring.
Yes, he and his past self were one in the same. As such, it stood to reason that if Bumble managed to survive long enough to primacy, then Bumblebee could handle himself for a few cycles. He had his Ratchet and the others to protect him, plus there were often times where a roaming Predacon swarm didn't stumble their way into their territory. Perhaps he would go this whole wacky adventure without ever once encountering those infected by the contagion.
But the likelihood of that happening were very slim. And Bumble had been there since the beginning, giving him a rude awakening that saddled him with a responsibility that should have never fallen onto his pauldrons. He had seen the slow progression as one by one by one Cybertron and Earth both fell prey to the infection.
Bumble had no other choice but to acclimate, but if he had been dropped in the middle—no, the worst of it all, would he have made it out alive?
And for as much as he trusted his team he couldn't deny the truth. Rodimus and Optimus were gone, and unlike Bumble they were proper leaders. They'd handle their unexpected visitor from another time altogether with a grace that he doubted Ironhide or Jetfire could offer. Neither were able to guide Bumblebee with an explanation or even keep him out of the way until they swapped back.
And what would happen to the timeline if his past self died before he could have been reconstructed into this body-construct? That thought only lead to a new spiral, Bumble's helm throbbing. Because were they even from the same timeline or had the transwarp field grabbed them from two different realities altogether?
He gave out a muted groan, hiding his face against Bulkhead's side. Bumble would leave all consideration of science to the likes of Bulk and Sumdac, whilst he… savored his brief anonymity.
Nobody here knew what he had done. And he didn't have to tell them anything more than that the situation his time was… dire. A little white lie couldn't hurt, could it?
Still, the didn't fix that fact that he couldn't fall into recharge. He played with the seam lines on Bulkhead's broad abdomen, relishing in the warmth that they shared between the two. Bumble could barely keep his servos off of him, holding onto Bulkhead like he used to before their relationship crumbled to pieces.
Guilty and ashamed, Bumble soaked up how Bulkhead still looked at him with fondness, even though he was different now. Not the same cute little Bee that skittered across his frame when frightened or that shared a chuckle behind a servo with or–
Lost in his thoughts, Bumble jumped when Bulkhead spoke up, "Can't sleep?"
Greeting back bright optics with his own tired ones, he whispered, "Sorry, Bulky. Did I wake you?"
"Nah, I was on my way out of recharge anyhow." It was sweet of him to lie, but Bulkhead really wasn't all that great at it. At least, not when he was at low-power like he was now. Shifting, he curled an arm around Bumble and pulled him close against his side. Not that he wasn't already close enough. "You alright, little buddy? Something on your mind?"
"I'm not so little anymore," he teased, optics narrowing as he fought off a smile. "Not just because I'm taller, either, but I'm also about the same age as you are now."
"You could size up to the size of Megatron and you'd still be my little buddy," Bulkhead said. He adjusted slightly, trying not to knock Bumble off of the loading bay ramp he used as a recharge slab.
Before his accident and before the Predacon Plague, they never had to worry about sleeping together because Bee was small enough to curl up in the gap between his helm, neck cabling, and his chest plate. In his current frame, they obviously couldn't do that.
But Bumblebee's berthing was much too small for Bumble and, well, he missed this.
He missed them. What they used to be before… Before he royally screwed everything up.
Bumble laughed with a bitterness undeserved. "You think that now, but… I know better."
Bulkhead glanced toward the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts. Returning to Bumble's gaze, he spoke, "I know there's a lot that you aren't telling us about your time. Either because you can't or because you don't want to but… Can I ask you something?"
"You always can."
"Are we not… you know," he mumbled, "A thing anymore? In the future?" Bumble watched silently as he fumbled over his next words, "I'm only asking because– You don't think I noticed it, but you always stare at me as though you're devastated to even have to look in my direction. And if we aren't on good terms," Bumble tightened his grip on Bulkhead, digits curling into his seams, "Then I don't want to, um, force you to get alone with me now–"
Interrupting him, Bumble sat up quickly, "Bulkhead, I–" His neck cabling flexed, as he choked on his next words, "You mean everything to me. Always have and I… I'm the one who screwed up really bad in the future. Me and you– We're–"
He choked on his words, not wanting to admit a fault that he hadn't technically committed yet. As he floundered on what to say next, Bulkhead scooped him up and deposited him right on top of him. Bumble's arms were squashed underneath his false hood, and for lieu of a better resting spot, he unearthed them so that he may wrap them around Bulkhead's neck coils and bury his facial plate against the side of his head.
This close, he could smell the oil and dirt lingering on his frame from his olfactory sensors. Cybertronian's all relatively smelt the same but… He chose to believe that Bulkhead's scent was distinctive enough to bring sparks to his optics.
"You don't gotta tell me anymore, Bumblebee," Bulkhead hugged him securely. As if he never wanted to let Bumble go. By the Allspark, he hoped it were so. "I'm sure whatever it is you did, you'll make up for it like you always do."
"I'm trying, I swear that I am," he mumbled. His lips were close enough to kiss the underside of Bulkhead's tempered chin guard. He refrained, only just.
"Then that's all that matters to me." Bulkhead said before his tone turned into a teasing lilt, "Besides, it's not like it's happened yet!"
"I hope it never does," Bumble said. Especially if it meant that he would never come to pass.
If they could avoid everything that had to do with Bumble Prime altogether… That would fix everything.
Bulkhead mulled over that for a moment before going, "Maybe in the morning, if you're up to it, you could explain the situation to Optimus? You know he's been dying for more details and… If things really are as bad as you've been eluding to these past few cycles, it might be worth having a heads up. That way we can prepare for it and things won't turn out so bad."
"Maybe," he couldn't agree outright, needing to weight the consequences of doing so, but… "We'll see."
Realizing that, that was about the best response he could have asked for Bulkhead shimmied in place as he got comfortable again. Ramps weren't much more comfortable than a recharge slab, but Bulkhead made for a pretty comfortable berth. "In any case, you need your rest. It's been a long day."
"More like a long run cycle," Bumble quipped. Unable to keep his helm up, he nuzzled Bulkhead again and powered down his optics. His systems gradually slow down, respite right around the corner. "Goodnight, Bulky."
"Night, Bee."