Transformers Fan Fiction ❯ Fragments of Memory ❯ The Start of it All ( Chapter 15 )

Chapter 15: The Start of it All

 

 

All that research he did on the internet had paid off. Bumblebee wasn't a complete idiot about his new body, but some things on the human anatomy websites he'd visited had left some choice things out. He felt horribly weak. The easiest of tasks, such as running in a ground-eating dog trot, tired him within miles. His hands cut open and bled when he grasped a group of brambles to move them aside for Arianna. He could not easily toss aside obstacles; and had to do a great deal of climbing. At least he could move properly in this body now. They had traveled to the nearest town at first light (comprised of a gas station and a few bars) to pick up clothes for Bumblebee. He drew plenty of odd stares sitting astride a gleaming Katana, with nothing but a toga-sweatshirt on. Arianna could only find a few tourist type clothes at the small gift shop. Bumblebee emerged from the bathroom wearing a pale yellow t-shirt with the words “AREA 51” blazoned across the chest in bright green, a pair of grey running shorts and brown sandals. The shirt was too small on him, Arianna mused, but opted not to get a larger size. It was the only yellow one, plus he looked pretty fantastic in the tight shirt. He was looking in a mirror bedecked in little green aliens completely oblivious to her appraising glances. Hair was slightly annoying, he decided. He brushed it this was and that with his fingers, finally deciding to leave it sticking up in a shock of black. Luckily, Arianna's credit card had been mashed in her back pocket so she also picked up a few necessities for them both, including a t-shit and shorts for herself since hers was ruined. The clerk was glad to see them off, even more so sine Arianna had called Bumblebee by his full name. I'm going to need another name to go by in public, Bee thought as the clerk breathed a sigh of relief when they walked out the door.

 

Fusion waited impatiently outside the small convenience store, eyeing the gas pumps. They would make some satisfying explosions, he mused. When he was bored, he got destructive. The silver Autobot started rolling forwards and backwards, edging closer to the pumps.

“Knock it off, Fusion.” Bumblebee growled; his English accent a little more prevalent when he was angry. Fusion sputtered indignantly, startling a middle aged woman gassing up her SUV. Arianna slapped her forehead in frustration. The two hadn't stopped arguing since Fusion realized just who Bumblebee was. They stepped astride and Fusion rocketed away, still pressing the enjoyment a massive ball of fire would bring. Soon enough, the banter died off and Bumblebee started nodding. This was another drawback, he sniffed in frustration. Normally he could go for days, even weeks, without powering down. Humans needed it once a day, and for several hours! Arianna's neck curved gracefully, and her hair flitted in his face gently. He hugged her tighter to him and bent to kiss that curve in her neck. That was a great thing about being human. No amount of `soap opera' sappiness could describe the absolute joy of kissing. He had been an incredibly advanced robot, but nothing as sensitive as his lips was present on his old body. Arianna leaned into him and he set his forehead on the curve of her neck. Perhaps he would just rest his oculars- no, his eyes, for a moment. The girl was startled by a loud sound but realized, highly amused, that Bumblebee was snoring. She quietly asked Fusion to pull over at the next hotel so Bumblebee wouldn't topple off in his sleep.

 

Parts of red, blue and gunmetal grey lie scattered around the small warehouse. Hot Rod had gone ahead and secured the location in a village some hundred odd miles from the Decepticon base. He had then collapsed into Ratchet's arms. The medic had to make the boy wait, though, as Prime was more in danger of dieing than he. The leader was unrecognizable, only his midsection and head remained intact to preserve his life. His limbs, lower torso, and many vital functions were completely destroyed. Ratchet would have to rebuild Prime, but he hadn't the parts to do it. Unless…a look over to the heap that was once Bluestreak caught his attention. His spark was snuffed out, a tragic loss for his friends, but his body still had useable parts. Wheeljack might not like it, but a medic had to make do with what he had. He stood and walked over to Wheeljack, laying a hand upon his shoulder.

“Friend, I ache with your loss. I know you thought of Bluestreak as your own sparkling.”

“Your sympathy comforts me, Ratchet, but I know why you're really here.” Wheeljack said quietly. Ratchet should have known, the inventor was more intelligent than any Autobot he knew. His odd and loveable demeanor could throw one off at times.

“Use his parts; it's what he would have wanted.” Wheeljack's words were wavered and finally he emitted a high cry of pure sadness; a Transformer's way of grieving. Ironhide came over and joined Ratchet. They all embraced each other and grieved together. They grieved for Prime, who might not make it; for Hot Rod, who had to grow up before his time; for Bluestreak, the kindest child any of them had known; and for Bumblebee. That grief was the most painful, as it was a loss of trust in their most beloved member. If Wheeljack had thought of Bluestreak as his own, each of them felt so for Bumblebee; who had the most heart of them all.

 

Before him was a small Transformer. His yellow armor was blurred due to a curious fog that had enveloped his vision. The child was demanding something of Optimus in a high-pitched voice, though it was too fuzzy to make out just what he was saying. He shook his head.

“-t paying attention! I said I want to join you!” the furious young bot crossed his arms defiantly.

“Nonsense, you're still a youngling.” Optimus said. A look down at himself surprised the Autobot. He retained the youthful presence of a captain without the Matrix of leadership. The boy before him was the young son of a Cybertronian who had recently passed away. He understood now. This was when he had met Bumblebee. He was doing his nightly patrol all those years ago and was supprised by a small bot that had jumped out in front of him. Optimus had nearly fired on him, as this was a secured area. Prime had never found out how he got inside,

“But I can fight, my elders taught me!” he proved it by firing off a few well-placed blasts. The child had good aim.

“Your parental units approve?” Optimus asked. It came naturally, as he remembered this day well.

“My parental units have been deactivated.” The child Bumblebee hung his head, oculars narrow.

“Decepticons?” Optimus ventured a guess. By now, the two factions were fighting a cold war. One side would threaten; one side would build reinforcements to match. An up and coming Decepticon named Megatron would assassinate the ruler of his command, and take over, launching the two sides into a violent and millennia-long war. Optimus would take the Matrix from his commander in a few weeks time, after Megatron's newly motivated army invaded their base.

“Yes.” The child answered, bringing the older Autobot from his thoughts.

“You're still young, you have much to learn.”

“But I can do things you can't! I can go places and spy on the `Cons, I'm so small!” And you won't get too much larger, Prime reflected to his dream-self. “I'm real good at sneaking!” Bumblebee insisted.

You have no idea how well, Prime thought sadly.

“All right, son, you may join us-“

“I'm not your son!” he interrupted fiercely.

“Of course not…” Prime had decided a long time ago that he would never give life to another in this senseless war.

 

Optimus would take the Transformer under his steel wing, and mold him. He would become his most trusted comrade; every captain needed his eyes and ears. Prime snorted. He used the boy, that's all there was too it. Soon enough, he would send the half-grown Autobot on a long and painful mission through eons of space and time, searching for a lost cube.

The memory slipped away…

And he had caused him even more agony, yet again. The boy followed him eagerly, with all the enthusiasm of a pet, realized Prime in disgust. He had failed Bumblebee. He had never bothered to acknowledge anything the bot felt, knowing that feelings could jeopardize everything Prime had worked for. No, not him, everyone else. Everyone always worked towards HIS goal, and HIS missions. In exchange he had given them friendship, protection, and his undying devotion of and end to the war; but never the chance to be anything but his soldiers. Bumblebee had finally cracked, because even soldiers needed to be allowed to FEEL. He loved the human, and Prime had only turned it into something unnecessary and dirty. He had even ordered the others to deter it. Who was he to deny Bumblebee his first feeling of love beyond brotherly camaraderie? Prime groaned, his oculars sputtering to life. Oculars? He had two again? Ratchet set down his tools and sat back wearily. Prime was back online. Pain rippled through him as the leader of the Autobots allowed himself to feel something for the first time since he started climbing ranks. Pain at the loss of his oldest friend; the pain of knowing he had caused it.