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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months

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Someplace Peaceful

In the peace of the forest, Bumblebee has a chance to think and enjoy a few small comforts.

(Enjoy the Bee angst)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“Sire! You’re here!” Bumblebee shot to his pedes, his door wings fluttering in excitement as his Sire appeared in the clearing, breaking the silence of the forest. Light shone through gaps in the techtite trees and distantly the rustling of solarium bushes and other flora comforted Bumblebee’s spark, easing its anxious spin. He didn’t know why he was so unsettled, but everything was so much calmer now that his Sire was there.

“Are you having fun?” Optimus smiled and dropped to a knee, brushing aside copper bladed stem growths in order to allow Bumblebee to run into his arms. Bumblebee laughed as he did his best to wrap his small arms around his Sire’s far larger frame. Everything was right with the world now. The strange feeling of wrong that had settled in his mind vanished as Optimus’s powerful arms encompassed him, shielding him from any danger imaginable.

“Yes! This place is so pretty!” Bumblebee grinned as various mechanimals chirped and chattered beyond the edge of the glade. He gestured to the sunny clearing, smiling widely as his optics took in the countless fragile flowers all tinted green and red from the copper that coursed through them. A stream ran somewhere nearby, adding a gentle undertone to the perfectly serene atmosphere.

It was safe, it was secure. While it had been odd before, with his Sire beside him, it felt like home. He could hardly contain his excitement as he took his Sire’s servo, doing his best to get a grip on one of Optimus’s far larger digits.

“Come sit here! This is my favorite spot!” There was one large techtite tree in the center of the clearing, its long winding branches shifting in the gentle breeze. Bumblebee hurriedly urged his Sire on, pointing gleefully toward a nook within the base of the tree just large enough for him and his Sire to sit against. Optimus smiled and obliged, bending down a bit so Bumblebee could comfortably hold his digit.

He was quick to settle down and eagerly watched as his Sire did the same. The metallic leaves of the techtite tree brushed against one another softly, creating a quiet chime that could have lulled Bumblebee into recharge if it weren’t for the presence of one of his Primary Caretakers.

“I thought you might appreciate this place.” Optimus spoke softly, breaking the reverie that had fallen over the area. Bumblebee appreciated it, the unsettling feeling returned whenever it was quiet for too long. His frame felt somewhat cold despite the rays that had beat down on him but a moment earlier. It was strange, he didn’t like it.

“Really? How come?” Bumblebee questioned curiously as he clambered up his Sire’s thigh to sit on his lap. Optimus seemed bigger than he remembered, but then again, Bumblebee was a very small bot to begin with. He didn’t question the extra bulk on his Sire’s frame, not when Optimus’s optics glinted, cycling in on Bumblebee fondly before turning toward the landscape.

“This is where I grew up. These forests shielded me throughout my youth.” As if sensing Optimus’s words, a technohawk flew above, cawing in victory as it flew past. Bumblebee gawked in awe, his door wings once again aflutter as he tried to ignore the strange creeping cold. It was starting to get uncomfortable.

“What did you do here? Did you play games?” Bumblebee settled on asking as Optimus picked him up and rearranged him more comfortably on the Prime’s lap. His Sire’s frame rumbled in contentment and Bumblebee couldn’t help but purr happily in response, his helm butting against Optimus’s torso since he couldn’t reach the Prime’s helm. Optimus laughed lightly, and it was one of the most comforting things Bumblebee had ever heard as it sent all worries about the chill fleeing from his mind.

“I did. I was fond of climbing the trees and playing in the solvent stream on the cycles that it was not guarded by the mechanimals of the deep wood.” His Sire’s field was gentle as it wrapped around Bumblebee, comforting and as soft as the comforter his Nurturer made for him when he was small.

“I like collecting the rocks and chasing the glowing things.” Bumblebee exclaimed, quickly looking around and pointing toward several glowing insects fluttering merrily across the clearing, moving from flower to flower. Their wings were wide and almost crystalline, coming in every conceivable shade and hue. No two insects were the same, and they created a soft multicolored glow as the light in the sky began to fade, making way for dusk.

“Those are Polyhexian cog-moths. They only appear during a very specific time of the vorn. It is said that they symbolize good times to come.” His Sire held Bumblebee a little tighter, his digits running along his helm fondly. Bumblebee made a short chortle, a mix between a chirp and a purr without meaning to. Optimus merely smiled again, his field continuing to sink into Bumblebee’s very protoform. It chased away the cold.

“I like them. I wish I could live in this forest like you did.” Bumblebee added as he watched the moths from within his Sire’s arms. They glittered like jewels in the light of the nearest star. The forest was so very peaceful. He wanted to stay. Things would be even better if his Nurturer were there as well, hopefully with a snack and a song. He always liked it when his Sire held him and his Nurturer sang.

“It’s so calm here. Why did you leave?” His question hung in the air for a long moment, and for a brief nanoklik, Optimus’s field flared in sorrow. Concerned, Bumblebee turned away from where the moths still glowed and looked up to where the shade of the tree now darkened his Sire’s face.

“I had to grow up eventually, my little warrior. Primus had plans for me.” Optimus ran his digits between Bumblebee’s door wings comfortingly, but his smile was dimmer now. Bumblebee ran through the potential reasons why his Sire could be upset in a worried frenzy, but nothing seemed to make sense. Perhaps his Sire didn’t want Bumblebee to have to leave the forest? It was a possibility that could be probable.

“Does that mean I need to leave here too?” Again he asked a question, and once more, Optimus remained silent for a worrying length of time. Bumblebee’s spark flared in momentary fear as the cold caused his digits to twitch. Something was wrong. He couldn’t place it, but it was wrong.

“Soon, yes. But you will go somewhere better.” Optimus quickly noticed Bumblebee’s growing fear and drew him tight against his chassis. Bumblebee squeaked at the sudden movement but settled in quickly as his Sire basked him in his field with even more ferocity, once more chasing away the cold.

“There’s somewhere better? Have you ever been there?” He asked with wide worried optics. He didn’t want to leave his Sire. Was that why Optimus was so sad looking? Was it because Bumblebee had to leave?

“You have many questions today, dear one.” His Sire noted in a gentle whisper, his optics distant and his expression edging into a frown. Bumblebee deflated, his door wings falling and his helm coming to rest against his Sire’s chassis in regret. He hadn’t meant to make his Sire sad about anything.

“Sorry.” He mumbled as he felt his Sire’s powerful spark from where it was hidden behind layers and layers of armor. Sometimes Bumblebee wondered if his Sire ever took any of the armor off. It had to be heavy.

“Never apologize for curiosity. I will gladly answer your questions.” Optimus’s voice climbed a chord higher and his expression was forcefully brightened. It seemed strained, although Bumblebee was not entirely sure why he thought so. Optimus was smiling, that was a good thing right?

“I have only seen a glimpse of the place you will soon go, but I know it is sacred.” The light faded a little more as Bumblebee tilted his helm in confusion. Somewhere better than the forest that was sacred? Was he going to go to a sacred forest or something?

“Is it a temple? Temples are pretty and the incense smells nice, but they are really boring.” Bumblebee’s face scrunched up in a frown as he recalled the last time he had to go to a temple. The service was nice enough, but there wasn’t much to do and his Nurturer constantly had to remind him to be quiet when Optimus had to get up and do whatever rite was on the agenda.

Optimus, seeing Bumblebee’s expression, laughed lightly before his gaze darkened once more.

“No, you will go to no temple. Instead you will go…” His Sire gazed out at the encroaching darkness, his optics uncertain and strange. Bumblebee felt the ghost of a memory play in his mind, a recollection of his Sire covered in energon, watching on in horror as a city burned. The memory passed as quickly as it came, and Bumblebee could only cling to his Sire in the hopes that whatever was happening wouldn’t come near him where he was safe.

“Someplace peaceful.” The Prime settled on saying, prompting Bumblebee to reach up, and with all the power in his small body, clamber his way up to touch his Sire’s face.

“Will you be coming with me?” He asked quietly, a little afraid of the answer.

“I do believe I will join you soon enough. But there are still a few loose ends that I must see to.” Optimus leaned in, the crest of his helm touching Bumblebee’s in a comforting manner. It eased his worries, but the presence of his Sire no longer fully drowned out the chill that was infecting his limbs. Distantly, Bumblebee was sure he should be afraid. However, he felt no need to react, at least not with more than the mild fear that already weighed down his spark.

Soon, he was going to go somewhere else. His Sire had told him as much. What reason would his Sire have to remain behind if the place was better than the forest? Bumblebee could only think of one possibility, and he dearly hoped that the temporary separation was the cause of his Sire’s sorrow. Distance could be rectified, Bumblebee could always stay behind if he needed to.

Although, a part of his processor not enthralled with the world around him told a different tale. The chill was spreading. He would be going somewhere, and he did not think it would be too long now.

“Oh, I get it. Nurturer would probably be worried if you didn’t bring him as well. Just don’t take too long getting him alright? I don’t want you to leave again for too long. Megatron might get you.” Ratchet always got worried when Optimus left him alone. Bumblebee didn’t want his Nurturer to be upset. It made sense that his Sire would be a little late to follow Bumblebee if he needed to get Ratchet.

That had to be the reason he looked so sad. It made sense, and the answer resonated with his spark in a way that was momentarily unsettling.

“Ratchet will come all in good time. From what I have divined, he still has much to do on his own. But do not concern yourself with Megatron. He won’t harm me, Bumblebee.” His Sire ran his digits along the crest of Bumblebee’s helm yet again. However this time it was not quite as comforting. The world around him was still lush, but the fading light seemed to make things seem different, less… right.

Worry sat heavy in his spark chamber, and all he could do was lean ever closer to the mech who kept him steady all throughout his life, hoping that his fears were misplaced and that everything would be alright.

“He’s hurt you before.” Bumblebee found himself murmuring as memories returned to his mind. Images of a burning world, black skies, and countless unhonored and unburied dead. The lush forest broke in a mess of glitches and pixelation, revealing what his mind told him was the truth. He whimpered and clutched at his helm as the sight faded and the forest returned. He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to believe.

“He won’t be able to any longer. A hero struck him down.” His Sire gently pulled Bumblebee’s servos away from his helm, and joy swiftly overcame everything else as the world returned to the equilibrium Bumblebee needed. There were no burning cities here. His vocalizer did not burn. Red optics did not glare down at him as he bled out on the ground. He was safe with his Sire.

“Someone actually stopped him? That’s amazing! Who was the hero?” Bumblebee exclaimed, his focus entirely on his Sire as day faded to night. The leaves of the tree glinted as the sunset painted them gold and the copper growths glinted and shone. Warm winds caressed Bumblebee’s frame, and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief as Optimus answered.

“A young warrior serving directly under me. It was our final battle against Megatron, and despite being mortally wounded, he took up my blade as Megatron tried to strike me down.” Optimus did not smile as he spoke, instead his optics glinted with unshed tears, his gaze glued on Bumblebee as he listened with rapt attention.

“And with strength far eclipsing that of any Prime, past or present, he drove my blade through Megatron’s spark chamber, ending his life and saving mine.” Bumblebee smiled, but it was a soft thing. It felt… wrong to laugh or cheer. His Sire held him as though he were the greatest gift in the world even as he told the tale of the death of the one mech who served as Cybertron’s boogeyman. His focus was off, his attention diverted.

Optimus was grieving, although Bumblebee did not yet know what.

“That warrior, you said he was wounded…” His vocalizer rang out softly, momentarily shifting into binary tones that felt just as familiar as his usual voice. It did not unsettle him even as Optimus’s expression fell and true sorrow settled on his face. His Sire’s optics were always very expressive. Bumblebee could see clearly just how much his Primary Caretaker was hurting, and he had a feeling there was very little he could do about it.

“Is he alright now?” Bumblebee settled on asking as tears began to fall from his Sire’s optics. Optimus never cried, and in Bumblebee’s living memory, the Prime had only shed tears once over the loss of Elita-1 and the city of Rodion. All he could do was reach up and wipe his Sire’s tears away, allowing Optimus to nuzzle against his servo as he did so.

“He will be soon. Even as we speak, he is being relieved from his suffering.” Optimus managed a grim and sad smile that left Bumblebee more concerned than ever before. This felt more and more like farewell, and while he knew deep in his spark that he would indeed have to leave soon… his Sire was reacting as if they might never meet again. That couldn’t be right. Optimus didn’t need to cry.

“That’s good. I want to meet the warrior who saved you and cut down the slagmaker himself!” Bumblebee tried to lighten the mood even as the last of the nearest star’s light faded, leaving only the glowing veins of the flora around them to light the area. Stars shone above, and faintly Bumblebee recognized several constellations he had never been able to see with his own optics due to smog and smoke.

“Next time I will protect you Sire! Do you think I can convince the hero to teach me how to fight once he’s all better?” Bumblebee threw his arms in the air even as Optimus continued to hold him tight against him. The Prime did not smile, despite Bumblebee’s efforts to try and cheer him up in an attempt to ignore the creeping cold that now climbed his limbs.

Why was it so cold?

“Perhaps.” His Sire murmured into the night, his optics locked on the constellations above as he began to hum a soft tune. Bumblebee followed his gaze before his attention returned to the Prime. The tune was sad yet comforting, a slight trill in Optimus’s vocalizer giving away sorrow so spark deep that even a Prime could not fully suppress it.

“You seem sad Sire. Is something wrong?” Bumblebee at last found himself wondering aloud. Optimus merely shook his helm, an obvious lie.

“No, I merely missed you. The battle tired me, and your absence has hurt my spark.” Memory flashed across Bumblebee’s optics, showing his Sire reaching out to him in desperation, his optics wide and horrified. Then, as quickly as it came, it faded. Bumblebee sat still in his Sire’s arms, finally starting to sense the creeping chill for what it was.

“I am glad to be with you now, at least until you must go on your way.” Optimus’s words broke Bumblebee from his grim reverie. He reached out, grasping at his Sire’s digits until the Prime brought his servo close enough for Bumblebee to cling to. His Sire’s digits smelt like soot and plasma, just like they always had. It was a small comfort.

“I don’t want to leave you alone to be sad. Being sad and alone is terrible.” Optimus’s other servo came to support his back as Bumblebee curled up tightening against his Sire. He didn’t want to be alone in the place that he was soon to go. He wanted to stay, if only for his Caretakers. Optimus was already so sad. He didn’t want to think about how hurt Ratchet would be when Bumblebee finally left.

“Your presence lessens my sorrow, my sweet Bee. Stay with me a while, and when the dawn comes, then go on your way. I believe it will not be long until I shall soon follow.” The clearing was silent, with only the faint rustling of leaves to break the quiet of the night. Bumblebee found then that he could no longer feel the tips of his digits, nor his pedes. It was becoming harder to move, and faintly, he sensed his thoughts starting to slow.

"I'm going away for a long time aren't I?" His voice called out into the darkness, far older and far wiser than he remembered it being. Static laced his glyphs, but he knew the voice that spoke was his own. It was the voice that he would have spoken with if Megatron had not taken it from him.

"Yes." His Sire answered simply, his words coming out in a broken croak. Bumblebee understood now.

"Will Nurturer be fine?" He questioned as he gazed at the stars above, doing his best to relish in the comfort of his Sire’s touch while it lasted. He didn’t want to look at the clearing, what brief glimpse he managed showed him that his little paradise was breaking down. The forest was falling away and darkness creeping in. Only the skies remained constant.

"With time." Optimus reassured solemnly. They both knew Ratchet would suffer greatly at this loss. Bumblebee could only hope that in the end, his Nurturer would be able to move on.

"What about you?" He glanced toward his Sire, watching as the branches of the techtite tree glitched in and out of existence. It would not be long now.

"We shall meet again soon enough." A memory came to his mind yet again. Megatron stood in front of him, grinning madly as he drove a blade through Bumblebee’s spark chamber. Optimus screamed from where he struggled to his pedes. The rest of the team watched in horror as he fell. And later, as he dragged his dying frame up using what little time he was afforded by the cybermatter, they stared in awe as he dealt the finishing blow.

Faint pain emanated from his chassis as he remembered. He touched his chassis plating on instinct, feeling the remnants of the wound. Optimus was quick to press a kiss to the crest of his helm, a gentle confirmation of what he now knew to be true.

"That hero... did he fight well?" Tears fell from his optics as he sniffled, his door wings dipping down. His Sire hummed cradled him as if he were still a sparkling, the Prime’s frame serving as his final safe haven as the artificial world around him crumbled to pixels and code.

"He did. He was by far the greatest warrior I've ever had the honor to fight beside." Bumblebee managed a faint smile as Optimus’s knowing optics bore into his own. Bumblebee had fought well. He had done good.

“Could you sing me a song?” He made his final request as the chill crept ever closer to where his spark fluttered, weakening even as he felt no pain. He didn’t want things to end like this, but…

At least there was a goodbye.

“Gladly.” Optimus rocked him gently, the Prime’s voice calming like a brook on a sunny cycle. Bumblebee didn’t want to leave, but he allowed himself to smile as his spark flared in affection and love, both his Caretakers reaching out to calm him. Within a klik, a song played in the darkness, the voice of his Sire ringing out clearly. Ratchet’s voice joined the chorus before long, and with what time remained, Bumblebee felt both his Sire and his Nurturer pressed against him, their arms wrapping around his small frame with all the love in the world.

Their adoring song followed him as the chill took its toll and darkness fully claimed him.

━━━━━━

“Sir, it’s time to begin disengaging.” Arcee alerted in the relative silence of the Nemesis’s medical bay. Ratchet wanted to hiss as he frantically continued running through programs, algorithms, and life support systems in an attempt to keep his sparkling alive for a klik longer.

“His processor activity is halting. It won’t be long now.” Ultra Magnus remarked calmly as he looked over Ratchet’s shoulder at the readings. Ratchet snarled and swatted at the commander before he acknowledged the beeping of Bumblebee’s life support, a warning of what was to come.

“No! There must be more time! This can’t be it! I just need more time and I can-!” Ratchet flew toward the console, pulling at wires and desperately trying to work through tears. There wasn’t enough power, and Bumblebee was too weak to survive being put into stasis. He needed Cybertronian medicine, he needed his students and an immediate spark transfer or else-

“That’s enough. Let his last memory not be of fear.” Optimus shattered any illusion Ratchet had of completing his task successfully as the Prime’s voice cut through all else. Optimus turned from where he sat at the edge of Bumblebee’s berth, his processor connected to their sparkling’s. The Prime did not look up, the vacancy in his gaze far more telling than any words could hope to be.

The wounds were too much. The cybermatter had been a temporary fix, a bandage over a stab wound. Bumblebee’s spark chamber was irreparably damaged, at least with their current materials. He was only hanging on by a thread, and despite Ratchet’s best efforts, it had reached the point where there was little he could do but try to keep Bumblebee calm. The team all knew that this was the end for him. It was the only reason Optimus had been allowed to perform a psychic patch in the first place.

“Optimus, do you want us to leave?” Bulkhead placed a servo on the Prime’s shoulder. Ratchet felt his servos shake as Optimus nodded once, his gaze never leaving Bumblebee’s prone frame. The team were quick to comply with Optimus’s wish, each of them filing out of the room quietly. Smokescreen lingered a moment, but he too turned and left after sensing the tension in the air.

Only once all was silent, did Optimus speak.

“He has asked for a song.” Ratchet felt his spark break as his Conjunx looked up for the first time, a few silent tears falling from his optics as he held out another connector. Ratchet bit back a sob as he stepped forward and accepted the connector, staring at it through vision blurred with tears.

“Come, sing with me. He deserves to have us both by his side.” Optimus grasped his servo, squeezing it gently. Ratchet could sense how his Conjunx’s servos shook minutely too. This was it, their last goodbye to their precious sparkling.

Ratchet reset his vocalizer once and then interested the connector into the port at the back of his helm, lifting the protective plating to reveal it. He did not move as his vision changed and the world fell away. He could still feel his frame distantly, but he did not hesitate to join Optimus within the flickering memory of the forest of Helex and settle down to cradle their little one a final time.

Bumblebee’s form flickered along with the memory, his consciousness fading fast. However as Ratchet wrapped his arms around both his Conjunx and sparkling, he put all his spark into singing their song. Optimus’s deep rumbling voice joined Ratchet’s similarly gruff one in a strange symphony that lasted until Bumblebee smiled and the program collapsed.

Ratchet was thrust back into his frame harshly, and all he could do was gasp in agony as his mind reeled from the rejection. Bumblebee’s life support screeched, its systems blaring before it fell silent. A nanoklik later, Bumblebee’s exposed spark flared once more and then puttered out, his frame succumbing to the wounds afflicting it.

“I’m so sorry Bumblebee. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix this.” Ratchet reached out, pressing the crest of his helm to Bumblebee’s lifeless frame as tears blurred his vision. He choked, an ugly sob building in his throat as he ran his digits along the grooves of his precious sparkling’s face. The face he would never again see light up in joy.

“Primus has called him home… and I do not believe he will be alone for long.” Optimus placed a servo on his shoulder, pulling Ratchet’s attention away as he straightened. His spark burned with the loss of their sparkling, and it only hurt more as he registered both the words and the fact that Optimus was walking away.

“Optimus? What are you-?” Ratchet called out in bewilderment as the Prime halted in the doorway, his expression stone cold.

“There is work to be done. He must be laid to rest, and soon the Allspark must be recovered.” Ratchet was never a mech to be angry at Optimus for long, but with his spark feeling as though it were torn asunder, rage pooled where the mark of their sparkling had once lain. Their sparkling was dead and Optimus was already off to war. They won at the cost of their most precious gift. Did he have no sympathy? No love?

“Can’t you take a moment to feel! Our sparkling is DEAD and you are already discussing our next course of action?!” Ratchet burst out, his field flaring in distress and rage. So many vorns fighting, so many lost lives. Yet still Optimus marched ever on with the same brutal outward apathy he regarded all losses with. Could he not spare a mere moment to grieve?

“Our battle has not yet ended. Hate me if you must, but until the cycle my frame is returned to the ground of our homeworld, I must continue on.” The Prime replied after a moment’s hesitation, his optics flashing as though he were viewing something far off. Frag the Matrix and its visions. Ratchet wished he could tear the accursed relic out of Conjunx’s chassis if only so that Optimus would take the time to grieve like the rest of them.

“Grieve as you will. I must speak to Wheeljack.” Without another word, Optimus turned and left, his usually open bond to Ratchet shut down tight. The door closed behind him, and all Ratchet could do was turn and lean over Bumblebee’s frame, clutching the edge of the medical berth as he was left totally and completely alone.

There was no comfort to be found amongst the dead. But Ratchet did not move as he again reached out to run his digits along the already graying crest of Bumblebee’s helm.

“Forgive me Bumblebee…”

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #bumblebee #optimus prime #team prime #ratchet #angst #character death #optiratch #transformers fanfiction #fanfiction #this is going right on ao3 later today #I came up with the script for this in an hour and wrote it in three #I am very happy with how it turned out

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