FIC: To Live In Interesting Times (Human Series)
Title: To Live In Interesting Times
Author: Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Bumblebee, Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Ratchet/Optimus
~~*~~
Sam's quarters weren't far from the infirmary. When Bumblebee stood upright, he could actually see the infirmary from the doorway, just one corner of the roof, but it counted as visible. The reasons for that were varied; it was practical, it put Sam and Bumblebee's sleeping quarters on the inner outskirts of the officer's district, Ratchet had demanded it. Logical reasons, all of them.
Bee knew it was close; he could have calculated the distance to the nearest tenth of a millimeter in seconds. If he hadn't been tearing through the streets, his tires squealing, if he hadn't been screaming over the communication links for Ratchet, if his own aching processors hadn't been an unneeded distraction. If, if, if.
His own sensors had still been shrieking into the red when Bee had blearily returned to consciousness, the babble of human voices surrounding him. He hadn't taken the time to analyze anything, only saw Sam collapsed on the floor, his eyes showing whites and a thin trickle of blood trailing from his nose as he convulsed.
It had been little more than reflex to snatch Sam up and transform, tires squealing as he sped out into the streets. Grimly, he navigated the short distance to the infirmary, his secondary sensors in his holo focused on cradling Sam in his arms, watching helplessly as the boy shook in seizure.
There was already crowd of mechs at the infirmary, a rainbow color of armor that Bee ignored, speeding up to the only one that mattered, brilliant green and already reaching for him before Bumblebee had stopped. His door was painfully wrenched open, Sam snatched away from him, and Bumblebee could only transform and follow Ratchet into the infirmary, barely noticing the others trailing in behind him.
Bumblebee stood there and watched, his hands helplessly empty, as Ratchet labored over Sam, his large hands moving around his own holoforms as he worked, doing...whatever it was the medic could do to help a fragile human boy.
Dimly, his sensors informed him that Optimus was standing next to him and perhaps his presence was meant to comfort. Bumblebee didn't know. He was so helpless; Decepticons he knew how to handle, had centuries of battle experience to fall back on. There was nothing he could do here and now but watch and wait.
The sharp voice breaking the unbearable silence made every mech flinch, turning towards the brilliant yellow 'bot leaning heavily against the wall.
"Can't you teach the little bleeder to use the com lines like a normal mech?" Sunstreaker said viciously, still cradling his head in one hand. A low murmur went through the others, clicking disapproval and irritation.
"Please get him out of here before I make more work for myself," Ratchet snarled, his hands moving in a flurry around the small form laid out on the medical berth. Through them, Bee could see Sam was still shaking, his heels drumming hard against the metal of the table.
Sunstreaker resisted Sideswipe's efforts to pull him out the door, probably having a vicious conversation over a private line but finally, he let Sideswipe tug him back outside. A very good thing because Bumblebee was not at his most logical and breaking his fists on Sunstreaker's sneering face had seemed like a very good idea just then.
Watching Ratchet working frantically was painful, and Bee finally turned away, optics landing on Arcee who was nearest to the door. She had her arms wrapped around herself, "That wasn't the kid. I don't know who it was but they were Cybertronian." Her optics were wide with shock, they all were, Bee realized. Jolt slid one arm around Arcee and buried his face into her shoulder, offering comfort as much as he was taking it.
"Maybe the kid just picked up the signal like we did only he...he's human," Jolt whispered, his optics flicking to Bumblebee.
They knew about him and Sam, of course they did. Most of them had probably heard them at one time or another. He couldn't look at them, couldn't see their various amounts of sympathy, perhaps even disgust. Hiding his relationship with Sam from his own kind had been unthinkable and most Autobots were accepting of simi relationships but not all.
"Perhaps a weapon of some sort," Prowl murmured and Optimus made a sharp gesture for silence. He didn't order them out, even rested a gentle hand on Jolt's shoulder, but all of them fell quiet to watch Ratchet work.
Ratchet had two holos working on Sam as it was and Bee watched as a third formed and darted over to a cabinet. He didn't bother with the lock, tore the door open hard enough that one of the hinges snapped and it hung open at a drunken angle. Snatched up a plastic-wrapped syringe and vial of something, and Bee googled the name. Diazepam, strong anti-seizure medication, Primus. He didn’t need to search for the effects a long-term seizure had on a human, had no idea how it might affect Sam.
Bee watched through optics that burned as Ratchet's holo tore open the syringe, pulled the cap off with his teeth before plunging it into the vial, drawing the liquid up into it but before he could inject it, Sam took in one harsh, shuddering gasp of air, arching up so hard that Bee wince. With a last harsh convulsion, Sam collapsed and went very still.
"Ratchet," Bee managed to whisper, hoarsely, even though his sensors indicated that Sam's heartbeat was returning to normal. He knew it, but he could only watch helplessly as Ratchet ran scans over Sam's too-still form. He was pale, frighteningly so, and two thin trickles of blood were running from his nose, the scarlet obscene against his pallor.
They had done this to Sam, simply by existing, they had done this, Primus...
The flicker of scans running over him lit Sam's face garishly but whatever Ratchet was finding seemed to be better because he visibly relaxed, two of his holos flickering out while the last crouched next to Sam.
"Everyone out," Ratchet said abruptly, both of his forms speaking as one giving evidence to how closely focused he was on Sam. They all filed out, casting worried glances back and there was a low hum from the murmured conversations. Optimus was the only one aside from Bumblebee who didn't budge and Bee couldn't help a wavering little sound of amusement at the exasperated face Ratchet made at them. The medic didn't protest, though.
"His stats are dropping back down," Ratchet said brusquely. "And there's no indication of long-term damage. He's going to be fine, Bee."
With gentle hands, Ratchet's holo pushed up Sam's eyelid with one thumb, flicking a small light back and forth to watch the pupil dilate. Sam flinched, reaching up to bat Ratchet's hands away.
"Sam?" Ratchet asked softly. "Sam, can you hear me?"
"Ratch…?" Sam said groggily. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus. "You changed your holo."
He had, Bumblebee realized. He'd been too concerned for Sam to even notice. He'd switched from a distinguished older man to someone considerably younger and by human definition, cute. To Bumblebee's confusion, Ratchet's holo blushed abruptly, fair cheeks flushing to near crimson and when his logic processors offered a likely reason for that, he couldn't stifle a near hysterical giggle. The high color decorating Ratchet's cheeks vanished just as quickly as it had formed, obviously forcibly shut down but far too late to disguise it from the two mechs who were watching, one of whom was likely the cause of it.
His worry for Sam was still paramount but this was entirely too good to let go.
"If you can see that, I suppose your vision is all right," Ratchet grumbled, recovering quickly from his lapse. "How are you feeling, dizzy? Any nausea?"
"No, m'kay. Just tired," Sam bit off a yawn even as he said it and Bumblebee nearly inverted his air intakes trying not to laugh when the boy added, "How come you changed your holo?"
To his credit, Ratchet didn't blush again and his glare was practically a standard operating procedure during any repairs. "It's temporary. Stay with me, Sam, I need you to stay awake until I finish scanning."
"Temporary?" Primus, the boy was like a dog with a bone. Even Optimus made a strained little sound at that and now Ratchet's scorching glare was aimed in his direction. Bee suspected that it was only his leadership matrix keeping Optimus from keeling over from that sort of heated rage. Ratchet seemed to have perfected the art of trying to kill a mech with his optics.
Enough was enough, he couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. His reputation as a cheerful prankster was on the line, here. Gingerly, Bee leaned in close to Sam, ostensibly to offer comfort. Just close enough to whisper, knowing full well Ratchet could hear every word. "I bet he forgot to change his parameters back after he and Optimus were done playing." Sam's feeble snicker made him almost dizzy with relief, well worth having Ratchet's murder glare turned to his direction when he added, a little louder, "Just what were you and Optimus doing, Ratchet?"
"I'll send you a video of it if you don't shut it," Ratchet snapped and his holo winked out of existence. A faint wisp of steam curled up from his chassis, a very clear sign that he was pissed but at Sam's weak laughter, he softened visibly. Well, that was worth a permanent note in his memory file; Ratchet was definitely getting a soft spot where Sam was concerned.
"Promises, promises," Bee sassed back and earned a cuff to the head, hard enough to make his auditory sensors ring.
"Bumblebee," Softly, chidingly, and Bee straightened quickly. Teasing Ratchet was one thing; Optimus was out of the question.
"Who's Lara Croft over there?" Sam asked blearily.
Belated, Bee noticed there was still a holoform in the room with them, a woman standing with military precision and showing no sign of amusement at their antics. He sent a quick identity ping and having it come back as Ironhide cemented the unreality of the day. He'd chosen a female holoform? And one hot enough to blur the eyes of any human male on base, and a few of the female ones as well?
Clearly, Bumblebee was spending too much time in Main Ops to be missing out on gossip this tasty.
"I checked all our perimeter sensors, Prime," he…er…she…?... Ironhide said. She tossed her head back and the long sweep of her brown hair fell over her shoulder. "Whatever it was, it's not local."
"No," Prime agreed softly, thoughtfully.
"Optimus," Ratchet said sharply. He stepped back and gestured at Sam's hand. The shard, Bee remembered, recalled the moment before Sam's collapse, the moment before the sudden surge of screaming pain had literally knocked him offline. A fragment of the Allspark, held in the hand of the one human who had a connection to it.
The shard was still in his hand, fingers clenched so tightly around it that Bumblebee could see a trickle of blood leaking from around it.
Optimus reached to take it and only to go still at the sound Sam made. Bumblebee flinched back in shock. It was almost a growl, something he'd expect from an animal…or a feral 'bot.
"Sam-" Bee said softly.
"No. Optimus doesn't need it." He hissed it and Bee took an involuntary step backwards.
"No, he doesn't need it," Ratchet soothed. Sam whipped his head around to glare at him but Ratchet was unfazed, only reached out to stroke his arm gently. "No one here needs it, do they?"
"No." Sharply.
"But he is the Prime, he can keep it safe. That's his duty, to protect it. No one needs it, you don't need it."
Sam blinked, that blazing anger fading into bewilderment. "But I can hear him."
"Yes, yes, we know," Ratchet said, softly, still petting the boy lightly with one large finger. "We can hear him, too. We're working on the coordinates, Sam, you don't need to transmit anymore."
Hear who, Bee wondered, wildly. His own memory of the event, whatever it was, was blurred and corrupted, only pain and screaming had registered in his processors at all.
"I…I can hear…he's scared," Sam whispered, his own fear creeping into his expression.
"Shhh, of course he's scared," Ratchet said comfortingly and his tender care was almost as shocking as Sam's fierceness. The noises Ratchet was making were like the ones a mech would make to a sparkling, soft clicks of reassurance. That was disturbing enough but worse was that it was working, Sam slowly relaxing and Bee closed his optics, troubled. It was Sam's humanness that Bumblebee loved about him. He neither wanted nor needed Sam to have a Cybertronian nature.
He opened his optics again, watched Ratchet's touch deliberately shift with careful calculation, moving down until he was stroking Sam's closed fist, coaxing it to open. "We can help him. Just let me have it…that's it…"
Slowly, so slowly, Sam's clenched fingers relaxed. Ratchet didn't even look at the shard, only nipped it up with two fingers and passed it quickly to Optimus, who took it silently.
Sam blinked as though the light were too-bright. "That was…really weird."
"Mm, yes," Ratchet was scanning again. "I think I may know what occurred. Bumblebee, you say this happened after Sam found the Allspark shard?"
Bee nodded, a little fearfully. "Yes," he added, aloud, wincing at the rasp to his voice. Must've strained his vocalizer when he was screaming. Damn and blast but that had hurt, in more ways than one. He couldn't imagine what Sam had been feeling.
"I think…mind you, this isn't an official diagnosis by any means, but I think that finding the shard boosted Sam's abilities, enough that his own comlink picked up a distress signal."
"I have a comlink?" Sam asked, his voice cracking sharply.
"Yes, yes, of course you do," Ratchet waved that off impatiently. "You've been communicating with Bumblebee through it, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Sam mumbled.
"Anyway, as I was saying, your normal range is very, very limited. I don't believe that you can communicate without actual physical contact?" he raised a questioning eye ridge at Bumblebee, who nodded silently. "When you touched the Allspark shard, your receptors drew power from it, just as they had for millennia before they were transferred to you and in doing so, they boosted your range far beyond what any of us can normally manage and you picked up a distress signal. Your lack of control sent it through the channels to the rest of us."
"Then why did it stop? And who was it?" Sam asked weakly.
Ratchet shrugged. "I'm still guessing, but I assume your receptors themselves cut off the signal because it was hurting you. Whoever it is, they don't have enough control to block out their emotions and you don't have the experience to separate their pain from their message. Not that I'm sure they had one, while I was receiving, all I heard was screaming."
"Yeah, screaming. They were hurting so much," Sam whispered. He was starting to tremble.
A sudden request from Ratchet for a private communication startled Bee and he opened it automatically. Bee, he needs a charge, badly. His receptors were drawing off the Allspark shard and the loss of it has them distressed.
No problem, he sent back, already forming a holo and eager to have Sam in his arms. He knelt next to the boy almost hesitantly, reaching out to rest one hand on Sam's chest, over his heart. The sight of Sam growling at Optimus was still replaying in his processors, a disturbing echo that he couldn't quite shuffle aside.
Having Sam moan, a sweetly human sound, made Bee relax a little. A trembling hand covered his own, pushing it down without hesitation and Bee laughed, softly, tugging Sam's shirt out of the way and pressing a wet kiss against his belly. This was wonderfully familiar, the warmth of Sam's skin, his scent. So beautiful.
The sound of the infirmary door opening made him glance up and to his surprise, he realized Optimus and Ironhide had left but Ratchet was still standing over them, running scans and showing no intention of leaving.
Ratchet, please. Hadn't they done enough to Sam without inflicting this on him as well?
Not this time, Bee, his tone was firm but gentle. I need to monitor him and he might need more power than you can give him. I'm sorry.
Wild protest flared and Ratchet chuckled over the com link. Don't worry, I'll keep my optics to myself. Do try to keep it simple, and preferably quick.
Bee kept his more creative swearing to himself, knowing that it wouldn't persuade Ratchet and might upset Sam. Instead, he focused on mouthing a damp path down Sam's belly, neatly unfastening his pants with one hand and sliding it inside, curled it around the hot firmness of Sam's cock.
Quick, he could manage and Bee didn't doubt that Sam wouldn't have a problem with quick either. He didn't seem to have even noticed Ratchet, exhausted past words and his receptors greedily drawing the charge they so desperately needed. Sam had tried to explain to him once how it felt when his power reserves got too low, the strange mingling of arousal and pain, and Bee had ached to hear what it was like. For his part, feeding the receptors energy was automatic. He did it for his own, after all, and Sam's had rarely pulled so hard on his energy reserves that it even registered. Bee sometimes felt it afterward, a lagging sensation from his system over an unexpected power draw but he felt the same after a long battle.
It was only Sam who suffered from this and knowing that it wasn't his fault didn't make it any better. Quick, Bee reminded himself, grimly, shoving aside his own arousal. He wasn't particularly happy about this kind of fast-food sex for Sam but it was better than the alternatives. His processors helpfully offered him a quick image of Sideswipe and a reminder of what Sam had had to do with him and Bee shut that down hard. Not the time for guilt or petty jealousy.
Sam was starting to arch up into Bee's stroking hand, tiny sounds of pleasure escaping him and a reluctant glance up confirmed that Ratchet was keeping his word. No doubt that he was scanning but his optics were shuttered and dark. Venting a little harder than normal, which was kind of creepy but with the kind of scans he was running and the pheromones that he and Sam were clouding the air with, it wasn't like Bee could blame him.
He still curled over Sam a little closer, wanting to protect him from yet another invasion of his self. I'm sorry, he mouthed it silently against the soft skin of Sam's neck, dragging his lips over faint stubble and up, until he could kiss him, feel the tremor of his moans. I'm so sorry.
"Bee!" Sam gasped, dark eyes flaring open and heavy, wet warmth spilled over Bee's hand as Sam collapsed. He slipped into sleep almost immediately, splayed out on the table and still flushed from orgasm. Pretty enough that Bumblebee ached with want that he stifled.
As Sam would probably say, this whole situation sucked.
There was a last flare of a scan and then Ratchet's hydraulics hummed as he stepped away, reinitiating their communication link. All right, he got a good charge out of that. Bumblebee, you can take him back to his quarters, if you like. Let him rest until he feels like getting up.
Are you sure? Bumblebee gave him a narrow look, a little unnerved that Ratchet wasn't insisting on keeping Sam here.
No, I'm not! Snarled back at him, making him flinch. I'm not sure of anything! Every scan I've done indicates that his receptors aren't causing him any actual harm and yet, here he is in my infirmary again after nearly bringing the entire Autobot contingency on Earth to its knees and I have no idea how to help him!
Ratchet sagged against one of the tables, resting his head in one hand. We need to get him communicating with his receptors. I'm almost done with his visor and hopefully that will work.
And if it doesn't? Bee dared, softly.
Then I will think of something else, Ratchet sent with a sharp glare, as if daring Bumblebee to argue. As if he would. Ratchet might be acerbic, irritable, and a downright a pain in the ass at times but there was no one that Bumblebee would trust Sam with more.
As gently as he could, Bee picked Sam up and cradled him in his large hands. As a mech, Bumblebee knew he wasn't particularly cuddly but Sam gave it his best try, curling up with a sleepy sigh. It occurred to him that he wasn't even sure if Sam's parents were aware of what had happened. Likely Prowl had spoken to them but he would check after he got Sam tucked into bed.
With a jolt, he realized that they had only been here approximately twenty minutes. Not an hour before they had been helping Sam move, talking about pizza; normal things. Human things.
Ratchet was already focusing back on the data from his scans, ignoring the two of them as Bee carried Sam away but the heavy sound of his air vents didn't escape Bumblebee's notice. Ratchet was running on the hot side and whether it was because he'd just gotten a free show from him and Sam or because he was frustrated with his lack of options to help Sam, Bee wasn't sure.
It shouldn't have been a surprise to see Optimus still lingering outside. He merely looked at Sam and gave Bee a questioning look.
The urge to hold Sam closer, to prevent even Optimus from seeing him was difficult to resist but Bee managed. Very softly, Bee said aloud. "Optimus, I think Ratchet might need your help?"
Bee certainly hoped so because if he didn't, the next time he needed a repair, Ratchet might weld his lips shut.
Optimus didn't even question him, only strode into the infirmary, the door swinging shut behind him. Bumblebee hadn't made it three steps when he heard a sound like a startled yelp and decided to walk faster.
"Don't want to know, don't want to know, don't want to know," he chanted almost silently, holding Sam's small, sleeping form close.
~~*~~
Sideswipe leaned casually against one of large storage buildings that circled the city, dispassionately watching his brother rant. Not that he didn't understand his frustrations; his own processors were aching like he'd just been on a three-day high grade binge after a beating, but listening to Sunstreaker's increasingly shrill raving wasn't helping.
"Sunny, calm down," Sideswipe drawled, deliberately. If Sunstreaker needed someone to take out his temper on, then Sideswipe would give him one. Better that then let him start a fight in the infirmary with every Autobot stationed on Earth and if Sideswipe had to feel like he'd gotten the energon beaten out of him, he might as well actually do it.
To his mild shock, Sunstreaker didn't even seem to notice the nickname, only spun back away from him, pacing as he seethed.
"Calm down?" he hissed. "Those idiots are so busy making sure that the little bleeder still feels human," Sunstreaker sneered the word, "That they aren't even training him properly in the very basics! When was the last time you met a mech who couldn't control his own com?"
The hot shine in his brother's optics was as telling as the surge through their shared spark, an anger that bordered the edge of sanity and this was getting dangerous, to both of them. Sunstreaker wouldn't hesitate to cause some very painful damage to his brother in his temper, Sideswipe knew from long experience. Time to change tactics.
"He's very young and this is very new," Sideswipe said, reaching out to run a warily soothing hand down his brother's arm. He was more than a little afraid that Sunstreaker would take his hand clean off and having him grab it instead, slamming Sideswipe hard enough against the building to fritz his optics was almost a relief.
"That's slag and you know it!" Sunstreaker so angry that he dropped English, hissing out in clipped Cybertronian, "They are treating him like he is still human and he is not! He needs trained or he's going to hurt someone, most likely himself, and next time it might not be so easy for Ratchet to fix him, he could end up with permanent damage and I---" he faltered, optics narrowing as he stopped to look at his brother. "What?"
Sideswipe was having a hard time not outright gaping at his brother. This was not the kind of temper tantrum he'd been expecting. "Nothing," he answered, finally.
"Not nothing. What was that look for?" Suspiciously and Sideswipe cringed internally. There was no way that Sunstreaker was going to let it go now.
The only other option was distraction. Sunstreaker was pressed chest to chest with him and it was easy enough to tip his head up and press their mouths together, tasting dark, slick lubricant as Sunstreaker jerked in surprise.
A hand closed over Sideswipe's throat, clenching hard enough to blur his vision as Sunstreaker leaned away, breaking the kiss to give Sideswipe a hard glare. "One of the humans will see."
Sideswipe only smirked, leaning into his brother's cruel grip until a sharp warning blared in his vision. "I fail to see why that should be a concern of mine." Not exactly true but still, better than Sunstreaker killing anyone in a fit of temper.
The grip on his throat loosened enough for Sideswipe concentrate on forming a holo, coaxing Sunstreaker to do the same and drawing him between two buildings while their true bodies blocked the entrance. The two of them were hidden in the shadows as Sunstreaker held him up against the cool brick, his legs caught in the crooks of his brother's arms as Sunstreaker fucked him.
"Ah," Sideswipe gasped out, flinching as Sunstreaker sank his teeth into the base of his throat, his receptors shrieking equal parts pain and pleasure as Sunstreaker thrust into him, brutally hard. Cold, greedy mouth against his own, their teeth clacking painfully and Primus, yes, he wanted this.
"Harder," he begged into his brother's mouth, his hands scrabbling over Sunstreaker hard enough to leave bruises had they actually been human and he nearly wailed as Sunstreaker hesitated, pulling back enough to look Sideswipe in the face. Dazed, he met Sunstreaker's dark gaze, blinking through the dimness of their shadowy little corner.
Sunstreaker's smile was coldly amused. "You would be enjoying this."
"Yes," Sideswipe agreed mindlessly, squirming desperately until Sunstreaker moved again, each too-hard, too-brutal thrust like perfection and their connection swelled, unblocked pleasure singing between them and even as it arced, blending into one moment of harmony, Sideswipe managed to hide his true emotion, his desperate, astonished gratefulness to the little human currently in the infirmary.
This was very first time he'd ever seen Sunstreaker show concern for anyone but himself or, rarely, his brother and if this was what kissing Sam did to Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe owed him so much more than a little petting and power sharing.
Sunstreaker's cry was muffled into Sideswipe's mouth, both of them sagging to the ground as Sunstreaker's strength failed. The ground was hard and rocky beneath Sideswipe, barely registered before he was abruptly flipped onto his belly and Sunstreaker was on him again, forcing his legs apart so he could kneel between them.
"Give it to me," Sunstreaker whispered darkly into his ear, already pushing inside him again, grinding their hips hard together. Sideswipe cried out, his brother heavy and cool over him, inside him, the unyielding pressure of his cock moving in him, taking every bare inch of him.
"Yes," Sideswipe sobbed out and gave in, arching up while Sunstreaker pounded into him. A strong arm looped under his hips, dragging him up and into each hard thrust, a brutal rhythm that only made Sideswipe beg louder, pleading for everything his brother had to give. He did want it, wanted everything his brother could pour into him, and if Sunstreaker was fractured then he was a vessel that could never be filled.
The noise that tore free from Sunstreaker was little more than a primal shriek, mingled with Sideswipe's identical one, the both of them caught and held as Sunstreaker pushed in as deeply as he could, lost in a sensation that their sensors couldn't decipher between pleasure and pain.
Sideswipe couldn't move, his brother sprawled heavily over him and aches were already starting to register, soreness between his legs, sharper pain of the rocks beneath them digging in. He only just felt the soft, tentative kiss at his shoulder, the gentle pressure of a hand stroking down his side. Sideswipe took a breath he didn't need and held it, let it out slowly, and let his brother's uncertain gentleness wash over him in a slow, cool touch.
-fin-
Read Next Chapter
Author: Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Bumblebee, Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Ratchet/Optimus
~~*~~
Sam's quarters weren't far from the infirmary. When Bumblebee stood upright, he could actually see the infirmary from the doorway, just one corner of the roof, but it counted as visible. The reasons for that were varied; it was practical, it put Sam and Bumblebee's sleeping quarters on the inner outskirts of the officer's district, Ratchet had demanded it. Logical reasons, all of them.
Bee knew it was close; he could have calculated the distance to the nearest tenth of a millimeter in seconds. If he hadn't been tearing through the streets, his tires squealing, if he hadn't been screaming over the communication links for Ratchet, if his own aching processors hadn't been an unneeded distraction. If, if, if.
His own sensors had still been shrieking into the red when Bee had blearily returned to consciousness, the babble of human voices surrounding him. He hadn't taken the time to analyze anything, only saw Sam collapsed on the floor, his eyes showing whites and a thin trickle of blood trailing from his nose as he convulsed.
It had been little more than reflex to snatch Sam up and transform, tires squealing as he sped out into the streets. Grimly, he navigated the short distance to the infirmary, his secondary sensors in his holo focused on cradling Sam in his arms, watching helplessly as the boy shook in seizure.
There was already crowd of mechs at the infirmary, a rainbow color of armor that Bee ignored, speeding up to the only one that mattered, brilliant green and already reaching for him before Bumblebee had stopped. His door was painfully wrenched open, Sam snatched away from him, and Bumblebee could only transform and follow Ratchet into the infirmary, barely noticing the others trailing in behind him.
Bumblebee stood there and watched, his hands helplessly empty, as Ratchet labored over Sam, his large hands moving around his own holoforms as he worked, doing...whatever it was the medic could do to help a fragile human boy.
Dimly, his sensors informed him that Optimus was standing next to him and perhaps his presence was meant to comfort. Bumblebee didn't know. He was so helpless; Decepticons he knew how to handle, had centuries of battle experience to fall back on. There was nothing he could do here and now but watch and wait.
The sharp voice breaking the unbearable silence made every mech flinch, turning towards the brilliant yellow 'bot leaning heavily against the wall.
"Can't you teach the little bleeder to use the com lines like a normal mech?" Sunstreaker said viciously, still cradling his head in one hand. A low murmur went through the others, clicking disapproval and irritation.
"Please get him out of here before I make more work for myself," Ratchet snarled, his hands moving in a flurry around the small form laid out on the medical berth. Through them, Bee could see Sam was still shaking, his heels drumming hard against the metal of the table.
Sunstreaker resisted Sideswipe's efforts to pull him out the door, probably having a vicious conversation over a private line but finally, he let Sideswipe tug him back outside. A very good thing because Bumblebee was not at his most logical and breaking his fists on Sunstreaker's sneering face had seemed like a very good idea just then.
Watching Ratchet working frantically was painful, and Bee finally turned away, optics landing on Arcee who was nearest to the door. She had her arms wrapped around herself, "That wasn't the kid. I don't know who it was but they were Cybertronian." Her optics were wide with shock, they all were, Bee realized. Jolt slid one arm around Arcee and buried his face into her shoulder, offering comfort as much as he was taking it.
"Maybe the kid just picked up the signal like we did only he...he's human," Jolt whispered, his optics flicking to Bumblebee.
They knew about him and Sam, of course they did. Most of them had probably heard them at one time or another. He couldn't look at them, couldn't see their various amounts of sympathy, perhaps even disgust. Hiding his relationship with Sam from his own kind had been unthinkable and most Autobots were accepting of simi relationships but not all.
"Perhaps a weapon of some sort," Prowl murmured and Optimus made a sharp gesture for silence. He didn't order them out, even rested a gentle hand on Jolt's shoulder, but all of them fell quiet to watch Ratchet work.
Ratchet had two holos working on Sam as it was and Bee watched as a third formed and darted over to a cabinet. He didn't bother with the lock, tore the door open hard enough that one of the hinges snapped and it hung open at a drunken angle. Snatched up a plastic-wrapped syringe and vial of something, and Bee googled the name. Diazepam, strong anti-seizure medication, Primus. He didn’t need to search for the effects a long-term seizure had on a human, had no idea how it might affect Sam.
Bee watched through optics that burned as Ratchet's holo tore open the syringe, pulled the cap off with his teeth before plunging it into the vial, drawing the liquid up into it but before he could inject it, Sam took in one harsh, shuddering gasp of air, arching up so hard that Bee wince. With a last harsh convulsion, Sam collapsed and went very still.
"Ratchet," Bee managed to whisper, hoarsely, even though his sensors indicated that Sam's heartbeat was returning to normal. He knew it, but he could only watch helplessly as Ratchet ran scans over Sam's too-still form. He was pale, frighteningly so, and two thin trickles of blood were running from his nose, the scarlet obscene against his pallor.
They had done this to Sam, simply by existing, they had done this, Primus...
The flicker of scans running over him lit Sam's face garishly but whatever Ratchet was finding seemed to be better because he visibly relaxed, two of his holos flickering out while the last crouched next to Sam.
"Everyone out," Ratchet said abruptly, both of his forms speaking as one giving evidence to how closely focused he was on Sam. They all filed out, casting worried glances back and there was a low hum from the murmured conversations. Optimus was the only one aside from Bumblebee who didn't budge and Bee couldn't help a wavering little sound of amusement at the exasperated face Ratchet made at them. The medic didn't protest, though.
"His stats are dropping back down," Ratchet said brusquely. "And there's no indication of long-term damage. He's going to be fine, Bee."
With gentle hands, Ratchet's holo pushed up Sam's eyelid with one thumb, flicking a small light back and forth to watch the pupil dilate. Sam flinched, reaching up to bat Ratchet's hands away.
"Sam?" Ratchet asked softly. "Sam, can you hear me?"
"Ratch…?" Sam said groggily. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus. "You changed your holo."
He had, Bumblebee realized. He'd been too concerned for Sam to even notice. He'd switched from a distinguished older man to someone considerably younger and by human definition, cute. To Bumblebee's confusion, Ratchet's holo blushed abruptly, fair cheeks flushing to near crimson and when his logic processors offered a likely reason for that, he couldn't stifle a near hysterical giggle. The high color decorating Ratchet's cheeks vanished just as quickly as it had formed, obviously forcibly shut down but far too late to disguise it from the two mechs who were watching, one of whom was likely the cause of it.
His worry for Sam was still paramount but this was entirely too good to let go.
"If you can see that, I suppose your vision is all right," Ratchet grumbled, recovering quickly from his lapse. "How are you feeling, dizzy? Any nausea?"
"No, m'kay. Just tired," Sam bit off a yawn even as he said it and Bumblebee nearly inverted his air intakes trying not to laugh when the boy added, "How come you changed your holo?"
To his credit, Ratchet didn't blush again and his glare was practically a standard operating procedure during any repairs. "It's temporary. Stay with me, Sam, I need you to stay awake until I finish scanning."
"Temporary?" Primus, the boy was like a dog with a bone. Even Optimus made a strained little sound at that and now Ratchet's scorching glare was aimed in his direction. Bee suspected that it was only his leadership matrix keeping Optimus from keeling over from that sort of heated rage. Ratchet seemed to have perfected the art of trying to kill a mech with his optics.
Enough was enough, he couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. His reputation as a cheerful prankster was on the line, here. Gingerly, Bee leaned in close to Sam, ostensibly to offer comfort. Just close enough to whisper, knowing full well Ratchet could hear every word. "I bet he forgot to change his parameters back after he and Optimus were done playing." Sam's feeble snicker made him almost dizzy with relief, well worth having Ratchet's murder glare turned to his direction when he added, a little louder, "Just what were you and Optimus doing, Ratchet?"
"I'll send you a video of it if you don't shut it," Ratchet snapped and his holo winked out of existence. A faint wisp of steam curled up from his chassis, a very clear sign that he was pissed but at Sam's weak laughter, he softened visibly. Well, that was worth a permanent note in his memory file; Ratchet was definitely getting a soft spot where Sam was concerned.
"Promises, promises," Bee sassed back and earned a cuff to the head, hard enough to make his auditory sensors ring.
"Bumblebee," Softly, chidingly, and Bee straightened quickly. Teasing Ratchet was one thing; Optimus was out of the question.
"Who's Lara Croft over there?" Sam asked blearily.
Belated, Bee noticed there was still a holoform in the room with them, a woman standing with military precision and showing no sign of amusement at their antics. He sent a quick identity ping and having it come back as Ironhide cemented the unreality of the day. He'd chosen a female holoform? And one hot enough to blur the eyes of any human male on base, and a few of the female ones as well?
Clearly, Bumblebee was spending too much time in Main Ops to be missing out on gossip this tasty.
"I checked all our perimeter sensors, Prime," he…er…she…?... Ironhide said. She tossed her head back and the long sweep of her brown hair fell over her shoulder. "Whatever it was, it's not local."
"No," Prime agreed softly, thoughtfully.
"Optimus," Ratchet said sharply. He stepped back and gestured at Sam's hand. The shard, Bee remembered, recalled the moment before Sam's collapse, the moment before the sudden surge of screaming pain had literally knocked him offline. A fragment of the Allspark, held in the hand of the one human who had a connection to it.
The shard was still in his hand, fingers clenched so tightly around it that Bumblebee could see a trickle of blood leaking from around it.
Optimus reached to take it and only to go still at the sound Sam made. Bumblebee flinched back in shock. It was almost a growl, something he'd expect from an animal…or a feral 'bot.
"Sam-" Bee said softly.
"No. Optimus doesn't need it." He hissed it and Bee took an involuntary step backwards.
"No, he doesn't need it," Ratchet soothed. Sam whipped his head around to glare at him but Ratchet was unfazed, only reached out to stroke his arm gently. "No one here needs it, do they?"
"No." Sharply.
"But he is the Prime, he can keep it safe. That's his duty, to protect it. No one needs it, you don't need it."
Sam blinked, that blazing anger fading into bewilderment. "But I can hear him."
"Yes, yes, we know," Ratchet said, softly, still petting the boy lightly with one large finger. "We can hear him, too. We're working on the coordinates, Sam, you don't need to transmit anymore."
Hear who, Bee wondered, wildly. His own memory of the event, whatever it was, was blurred and corrupted, only pain and screaming had registered in his processors at all.
"I…I can hear…he's scared," Sam whispered, his own fear creeping into his expression.
"Shhh, of course he's scared," Ratchet said comfortingly and his tender care was almost as shocking as Sam's fierceness. The noises Ratchet was making were like the ones a mech would make to a sparkling, soft clicks of reassurance. That was disturbing enough but worse was that it was working, Sam slowly relaxing and Bee closed his optics, troubled. It was Sam's humanness that Bumblebee loved about him. He neither wanted nor needed Sam to have a Cybertronian nature.
He opened his optics again, watched Ratchet's touch deliberately shift with careful calculation, moving down until he was stroking Sam's closed fist, coaxing it to open. "We can help him. Just let me have it…that's it…"
Slowly, so slowly, Sam's clenched fingers relaxed. Ratchet didn't even look at the shard, only nipped it up with two fingers and passed it quickly to Optimus, who took it silently.
Sam blinked as though the light were too-bright. "That was…really weird."
"Mm, yes," Ratchet was scanning again. "I think I may know what occurred. Bumblebee, you say this happened after Sam found the Allspark shard?"
Bee nodded, a little fearfully. "Yes," he added, aloud, wincing at the rasp to his voice. Must've strained his vocalizer when he was screaming. Damn and blast but that had hurt, in more ways than one. He couldn't imagine what Sam had been feeling.
"I think…mind you, this isn't an official diagnosis by any means, but I think that finding the shard boosted Sam's abilities, enough that his own comlink picked up a distress signal."
"I have a comlink?" Sam asked, his voice cracking sharply.
"Yes, yes, of course you do," Ratchet waved that off impatiently. "You've been communicating with Bumblebee through it, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Sam mumbled.
"Anyway, as I was saying, your normal range is very, very limited. I don't believe that you can communicate without actual physical contact?" he raised a questioning eye ridge at Bumblebee, who nodded silently. "When you touched the Allspark shard, your receptors drew power from it, just as they had for millennia before they were transferred to you and in doing so, they boosted your range far beyond what any of us can normally manage and you picked up a distress signal. Your lack of control sent it through the channels to the rest of us."
"Then why did it stop? And who was it?" Sam asked weakly.
Ratchet shrugged. "I'm still guessing, but I assume your receptors themselves cut off the signal because it was hurting you. Whoever it is, they don't have enough control to block out their emotions and you don't have the experience to separate their pain from their message. Not that I'm sure they had one, while I was receiving, all I heard was screaming."
"Yeah, screaming. They were hurting so much," Sam whispered. He was starting to tremble.
A sudden request from Ratchet for a private communication startled Bee and he opened it automatically. Bee, he needs a charge, badly. His receptors were drawing off the Allspark shard and the loss of it has them distressed.
No problem, he sent back, already forming a holo and eager to have Sam in his arms. He knelt next to the boy almost hesitantly, reaching out to rest one hand on Sam's chest, over his heart. The sight of Sam growling at Optimus was still replaying in his processors, a disturbing echo that he couldn't quite shuffle aside.
Having Sam moan, a sweetly human sound, made Bee relax a little. A trembling hand covered his own, pushing it down without hesitation and Bee laughed, softly, tugging Sam's shirt out of the way and pressing a wet kiss against his belly. This was wonderfully familiar, the warmth of Sam's skin, his scent. So beautiful.
The sound of the infirmary door opening made him glance up and to his surprise, he realized Optimus and Ironhide had left but Ratchet was still standing over them, running scans and showing no intention of leaving.
Ratchet, please. Hadn't they done enough to Sam without inflicting this on him as well?
Not this time, Bee, his tone was firm but gentle. I need to monitor him and he might need more power than you can give him. I'm sorry.
Wild protest flared and Ratchet chuckled over the com link. Don't worry, I'll keep my optics to myself. Do try to keep it simple, and preferably quick.
Bee kept his more creative swearing to himself, knowing that it wouldn't persuade Ratchet and might upset Sam. Instead, he focused on mouthing a damp path down Sam's belly, neatly unfastening his pants with one hand and sliding it inside, curled it around the hot firmness of Sam's cock.
Quick, he could manage and Bee didn't doubt that Sam wouldn't have a problem with quick either. He didn't seem to have even noticed Ratchet, exhausted past words and his receptors greedily drawing the charge they so desperately needed. Sam had tried to explain to him once how it felt when his power reserves got too low, the strange mingling of arousal and pain, and Bee had ached to hear what it was like. For his part, feeding the receptors energy was automatic. He did it for his own, after all, and Sam's had rarely pulled so hard on his energy reserves that it even registered. Bee sometimes felt it afterward, a lagging sensation from his system over an unexpected power draw but he felt the same after a long battle.
It was only Sam who suffered from this and knowing that it wasn't his fault didn't make it any better. Quick, Bee reminded himself, grimly, shoving aside his own arousal. He wasn't particularly happy about this kind of fast-food sex for Sam but it was better than the alternatives. His processors helpfully offered him a quick image of Sideswipe and a reminder of what Sam had had to do with him and Bee shut that down hard. Not the time for guilt or petty jealousy.
Sam was starting to arch up into Bee's stroking hand, tiny sounds of pleasure escaping him and a reluctant glance up confirmed that Ratchet was keeping his word. No doubt that he was scanning but his optics were shuttered and dark. Venting a little harder than normal, which was kind of creepy but with the kind of scans he was running and the pheromones that he and Sam were clouding the air with, it wasn't like Bee could blame him.
He still curled over Sam a little closer, wanting to protect him from yet another invasion of his self. I'm sorry, he mouthed it silently against the soft skin of Sam's neck, dragging his lips over faint stubble and up, until he could kiss him, feel the tremor of his moans. I'm so sorry.
"Bee!" Sam gasped, dark eyes flaring open and heavy, wet warmth spilled over Bee's hand as Sam collapsed. He slipped into sleep almost immediately, splayed out on the table and still flushed from orgasm. Pretty enough that Bumblebee ached with want that he stifled.
As Sam would probably say, this whole situation sucked.
There was a last flare of a scan and then Ratchet's hydraulics hummed as he stepped away, reinitiating their communication link. All right, he got a good charge out of that. Bumblebee, you can take him back to his quarters, if you like. Let him rest until he feels like getting up.
Are you sure? Bumblebee gave him a narrow look, a little unnerved that Ratchet wasn't insisting on keeping Sam here.
No, I'm not! Snarled back at him, making him flinch. I'm not sure of anything! Every scan I've done indicates that his receptors aren't causing him any actual harm and yet, here he is in my infirmary again after nearly bringing the entire Autobot contingency on Earth to its knees and I have no idea how to help him!
Ratchet sagged against one of the tables, resting his head in one hand. We need to get him communicating with his receptors. I'm almost done with his visor and hopefully that will work.
And if it doesn't? Bee dared, softly.
Then I will think of something else, Ratchet sent with a sharp glare, as if daring Bumblebee to argue. As if he would. Ratchet might be acerbic, irritable, and a downright a pain in the ass at times but there was no one that Bumblebee would trust Sam with more.
As gently as he could, Bee picked Sam up and cradled him in his large hands. As a mech, Bumblebee knew he wasn't particularly cuddly but Sam gave it his best try, curling up with a sleepy sigh. It occurred to him that he wasn't even sure if Sam's parents were aware of what had happened. Likely Prowl had spoken to them but he would check after he got Sam tucked into bed.
With a jolt, he realized that they had only been here approximately twenty minutes. Not an hour before they had been helping Sam move, talking about pizza; normal things. Human things.
Ratchet was already focusing back on the data from his scans, ignoring the two of them as Bee carried Sam away but the heavy sound of his air vents didn't escape Bumblebee's notice. Ratchet was running on the hot side and whether it was because he'd just gotten a free show from him and Sam or because he was frustrated with his lack of options to help Sam, Bee wasn't sure.
It shouldn't have been a surprise to see Optimus still lingering outside. He merely looked at Sam and gave Bee a questioning look.
The urge to hold Sam closer, to prevent even Optimus from seeing him was difficult to resist but Bee managed. Very softly, Bee said aloud. "Optimus, I think Ratchet might need your help?"
Bee certainly hoped so because if he didn't, the next time he needed a repair, Ratchet might weld his lips shut.
Optimus didn't even question him, only strode into the infirmary, the door swinging shut behind him. Bumblebee hadn't made it three steps when he heard a sound like a startled yelp and decided to walk faster.
"Don't want to know, don't want to know, don't want to know," he chanted almost silently, holding Sam's small, sleeping form close.
~~*~~
Sideswipe leaned casually against one of large storage buildings that circled the city, dispassionately watching his brother rant. Not that he didn't understand his frustrations; his own processors were aching like he'd just been on a three-day high grade binge after a beating, but listening to Sunstreaker's increasingly shrill raving wasn't helping.
"Sunny, calm down," Sideswipe drawled, deliberately. If Sunstreaker needed someone to take out his temper on, then Sideswipe would give him one. Better that then let him start a fight in the infirmary with every Autobot stationed on Earth and if Sideswipe had to feel like he'd gotten the energon beaten out of him, he might as well actually do it.
To his mild shock, Sunstreaker didn't even seem to notice the nickname, only spun back away from him, pacing as he seethed.
"Calm down?" he hissed. "Those idiots are so busy making sure that the little bleeder still feels human," Sunstreaker sneered the word, "That they aren't even training him properly in the very basics! When was the last time you met a mech who couldn't control his own com?"
The hot shine in his brother's optics was as telling as the surge through their shared spark, an anger that bordered the edge of sanity and this was getting dangerous, to both of them. Sunstreaker wouldn't hesitate to cause some very painful damage to his brother in his temper, Sideswipe knew from long experience. Time to change tactics.
"He's very young and this is very new," Sideswipe said, reaching out to run a warily soothing hand down his brother's arm. He was more than a little afraid that Sunstreaker would take his hand clean off and having him grab it instead, slamming Sideswipe hard enough against the building to fritz his optics was almost a relief.
"That's slag and you know it!" Sunstreaker so angry that he dropped English, hissing out in clipped Cybertronian, "They are treating him like he is still human and he is not! He needs trained or he's going to hurt someone, most likely himself, and next time it might not be so easy for Ratchet to fix him, he could end up with permanent damage and I---" he faltered, optics narrowing as he stopped to look at his brother. "What?"
Sideswipe was having a hard time not outright gaping at his brother. This was not the kind of temper tantrum he'd been expecting. "Nothing," he answered, finally.
"Not nothing. What was that look for?" Suspiciously and Sideswipe cringed internally. There was no way that Sunstreaker was going to let it go now.
The only other option was distraction. Sunstreaker was pressed chest to chest with him and it was easy enough to tip his head up and press their mouths together, tasting dark, slick lubricant as Sunstreaker jerked in surprise.
A hand closed over Sideswipe's throat, clenching hard enough to blur his vision as Sunstreaker leaned away, breaking the kiss to give Sideswipe a hard glare. "One of the humans will see."
Sideswipe only smirked, leaning into his brother's cruel grip until a sharp warning blared in his vision. "I fail to see why that should be a concern of mine." Not exactly true but still, better than Sunstreaker killing anyone in a fit of temper.
The grip on his throat loosened enough for Sideswipe concentrate on forming a holo, coaxing Sunstreaker to do the same and drawing him between two buildings while their true bodies blocked the entrance. The two of them were hidden in the shadows as Sunstreaker held him up against the cool brick, his legs caught in the crooks of his brother's arms as Sunstreaker fucked him.
"Ah," Sideswipe gasped out, flinching as Sunstreaker sank his teeth into the base of his throat, his receptors shrieking equal parts pain and pleasure as Sunstreaker thrust into him, brutally hard. Cold, greedy mouth against his own, their teeth clacking painfully and Primus, yes, he wanted this.
"Harder," he begged into his brother's mouth, his hands scrabbling over Sunstreaker hard enough to leave bruises had they actually been human and he nearly wailed as Sunstreaker hesitated, pulling back enough to look Sideswipe in the face. Dazed, he met Sunstreaker's dark gaze, blinking through the dimness of their shadowy little corner.
Sunstreaker's smile was coldly amused. "You would be enjoying this."
"Yes," Sideswipe agreed mindlessly, squirming desperately until Sunstreaker moved again, each too-hard, too-brutal thrust like perfection and their connection swelled, unblocked pleasure singing between them and even as it arced, blending into one moment of harmony, Sideswipe managed to hide his true emotion, his desperate, astonished gratefulness to the little human currently in the infirmary.
This was very first time he'd ever seen Sunstreaker show concern for anyone but himself or, rarely, his brother and if this was what kissing Sam did to Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe owed him so much more than a little petting and power sharing.
Sunstreaker's cry was muffled into Sideswipe's mouth, both of them sagging to the ground as Sunstreaker's strength failed. The ground was hard and rocky beneath Sideswipe, barely registered before he was abruptly flipped onto his belly and Sunstreaker was on him again, forcing his legs apart so he could kneel between them.
"Give it to me," Sunstreaker whispered darkly into his ear, already pushing inside him again, grinding their hips hard together. Sideswipe cried out, his brother heavy and cool over him, inside him, the unyielding pressure of his cock moving in him, taking every bare inch of him.
"Yes," Sideswipe sobbed out and gave in, arching up while Sunstreaker pounded into him. A strong arm looped under his hips, dragging him up and into each hard thrust, a brutal rhythm that only made Sideswipe beg louder, pleading for everything his brother had to give. He did want it, wanted everything his brother could pour into him, and if Sunstreaker was fractured then he was a vessel that could never be filled.
The noise that tore free from Sunstreaker was little more than a primal shriek, mingled with Sideswipe's identical one, the both of them caught and held as Sunstreaker pushed in as deeply as he could, lost in a sensation that their sensors couldn't decipher between pleasure and pain.
Sideswipe couldn't move, his brother sprawled heavily over him and aches were already starting to register, soreness between his legs, sharper pain of the rocks beneath them digging in. He only just felt the soft, tentative kiss at his shoulder, the gentle pressure of a hand stroking down his side. Sideswipe took a breath he didn't need and held it, let it out slowly, and let his brother's uncertain gentleness wash over him in a slow, cool touch.
-fin-
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