Don't Save Me Ch.17
Summary: a new understanding is reached
Rating: T
Bumblebee sat in Prowl's office, optics intent on the white form pacing restlessly. She had been like this since he walked in about fifteen minutes ago. He had tried to get the femme's attention, but when he failed to gain a response, the scout thought it might be best to let Ashfire work off her anxiety.
Ashfire continued to pace back and forth in Prowl's office. The tactician had left once he regained his composure. Before leaving, Prowl had apologized to her for the incident and thanked her for her support. He informed her that Bumblebee would watch her and then was gone.
She had remained silent as she played witness to Prowl's weakness. She could still feel her tanks churning from the ache of Prowl's breakdown and his apology. Even now with Bumblebee in the room, she felt ill.
"Ashfire," Bumblebee said, not able to stand the femme's strange behavior. "What's wrong? You seem disturbed."
Disturbed? Yes, she was disturbed. Her creator just had a breakdown in her arms. How was she supposed to deal with that?
"Ashfire, what happened?" Bee asked, stepping close to the femme. "You're trembling."
She stopped her pacing when Bee stepped in front of her. She considered the yellow mech for a moment. She wanted, needed to forget what just transpired. She didn't know how to deal with things like that. However, her usual means of distraction such as high grade and drugs weren't at her disposal. But Bumblebee could provide an alternative means of coping.
She pressed herself against Bee and ran her hands down his chassis. "Distract me," she whispered, her mind still full of Prowl's broken words. "I don't want to think anymore."
Bumblebee shuddered as her hands and field worked against him. He could feel her need and desperation. Bee knew Ashfire was searching for an escape in physical intimacy. For a brief moment he wanted to fall to her demand as his arousal rose. He probably would have too, if he didn't feel her anxiety.
"Ashfire, stop," Bumblebee said. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands off his frame and cradling them between their bodies.
"Why?" the femme asked. "I need this right now. Don't you want me?"
"I do want you, but not like this."
"Why not?" The white femme snapped, jerking her hands back. "A frag's a frag."
"Ashfire, this isn't about 'facing," Bumblebee said, trying to soothe the femme. "You're hurting. I don't want to do it now and have one of us regret it later."
"So you think you'll regret 'facing with a dirty Con, huh?"
"No, it's not like that! I don't want to interface now 'cause you're not okay and I don't want you to feel used later."
The femme stood silent for a few moments. Bee's words gave her a touch of warmth. However, they weren't a balm for her already twisted and uncertain state of mind. They only made her uneasiness worse.
"Bee, I've been used since the day I was born." With those words the femme left the room.
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The troubled femme wandered the halls, lost in her head. She wanted a place to hide and forget the benign hell that was her life. Her life had become an emotional roller coaster, chipping away at her defenses, forcing her to consider things she had locked away and ignored. Frankly, she was exhausted the experience.
Because the more time she spent with Bumblebee and Prowl, the more her walls crumbled.
She didn't like it. It left her feeling vulnerable. She could almost hear Barricade calling her a foolish child. Her fancies would be the end of her if she couldn't control herself.
She needed to sever her attachments before their claws sunk in too deep. She could survive on her own. With humans advancing their technology it wouldn't be hard to get what she'd need, but….
She didn't want to leave.
She paused when the realization hit her. She didn't want to leave. Despite the confusion and doubt, she wanted to stay.
Ashfire could feel her doorwings trembling. Where was Barricade when she needed him?
A muffled moan caught Ashfire's attention. Deciding curiosity was better than misery, she crept towards the end of the hall. Peeping around the corner she saw three mechs. She recognized the silver and blue forms of Sideswipe and Jolt; however she'd never seen the red mech before.
She watched as Sideswipe pinned the red mech to the wall, the two in a furious lip lock, while Jolt kneeled before the stranger to tease his interface array.
Anger filled her as the scene reminded her of Bumblebee's rejection. How dare he say no to her? He had asked her, begged her to stay and when she offered herself to him, he refused her. What kind of slag is that?! She felt a growl building in her throat. Then there was a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around, she was met with the concerned gaze of Prowl.
"Ashfire," Prowl said. "Are you all right?"
She shifted her weight one foot to another as Jazz came up to stand beside Prowl. Bad enough that she was feeling like slag, but now Prowl's mate was here.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing a calm tone in her voice.
Prowl frowned. He could feel the unsteadiness of her field. She was upset and he wanted to comfort her.
Jazz was frowning as well. Bumblebee was rarely away from the femme, yet here she was in the hallway by herself, her field screaming emotional distress. "Where's Bumblebee?" Jazz asked.
"I don't know."
"What happened?" Prowl questioned, reaching out with his field to ease her distress. The tactician watched as the femme shifted again clearly uncomfortable.
"Nothing," she replied.
"Ashfire…"
"I'm going to go to my room," she said, moving past Prowl and Jazz to hopefully find sanctuary in her quarters.
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Prowl stared at the retreating form of his creation. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Perhaps he should…
Jazz grabbed Prowl's wrist. "Prowl don't."
Prowl looked at Jazz with wide optics. "You're kidding me."
"Nope."
"But Jazz…"
"Prowler," Jazz crooned. "It's okay. She's just upset right now and it was obvious she was uncomfortable when you asked what happened. She's a big girl. Give her some space and she'll talk when she's ready."
Prowl looked torn between listening to his mate and going after his child. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"How do you know?"
Jazz grinned. "She may be an ex-Con but she's still a younglin'. Bee's the same way."
A small smile appeared on Prowl's face. Jazz was still not fond of his creation but….he was trying.
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It was night when Bumblebee began his search for Ashfire. He thought that the femme wanted time to herself, so he had left her alone to cool down. Bumblebee knew that Ashfire would be in one of three places: her room, the med-bay, or the ocean.
He crossed the med-bay off the list since Ratchet was off duty. The only time Ratchet was off duty was when the neon mech was recharging and woe to those who dared to wake Ratchet from his well earned sleep. That meant that Ashfire was either in her room or at the ocean. After thinking about it, Bumblebee decided it would be easiest to check Ashfire's room first.
With that thought, the scout made his way to the femme's quarters.
Bumblebee opened the door to Ashfire's quarters and was surprised to find the femme there. She was lying on her berth, facing the wall. Bumblebee watched her doorwings twitch. She knew he was here.
The femme heard the door open and looked to see who had opened it. She hissed when she saw the scout. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you," Bumblebee answered, moving closer to the berth.
Ashfire snorted as she sat up to face to face the scout. "What for?" she asked.
"You were upset." Bumblebee's field reached out towards the femme as he kneeled before her. Her field was a turmoil of emotion. There was confusion, doubt, hurt. All Bumblebee wanted was to be able to comfort her.
Ashfire glared at the insolent mech. First he rejected her and then decided that he should come to her and save her from her misery? Slag that.
"I don't need you," Ashfire said, venom in her words. She said it with the intention to wound and felt a flare of sadistic glee when she saw the words hit home.
Bumblebee couldn't hide the hurt in his field, but with his field so close to Ashfire's he could tell she didn't truly mean it and told her so. "You don't mean that. Besides that's not what you said in Prowl's office."
Ashfire's optics flashed in hurt and anger. "That was before you turned me down," the femme snapped, her doorwings arching into a V behind her. "And don't give me that crap about how you didn't want to take advantage of me.
Bumblebee hummed a soothing note to the now agitated femme. He melded his field with Ashfire's to make her feel his honesty.
"Ashfire, I do want you," Bumblebee said, his voice and field earnest. "But I don't want to frag you."
The femme's optics flared with fury. She launched herself off the berth, tackling Bumblebee.
Bumblebee grunted when his back hit the ground. Bee knew he had to find a way to restrain the femme, or she wouldn't listen to him. When Ashfire raised her fist to strike him, the scout saw his chance. He rolled. Bumblebee used the femme's surprise to quickly grab her wrists, forcing them over her head and effectively pinning her.
The femme growled as she tried to twist away from Bumblebee.
"Ashfire please listen," Bumblebee pleaded, tightening his grip on the femme. "I don't want to frag you. What I want is to make love to you."
At first, the femme was still. But as the meaning of Bee's words sunk in, she began to tremble. He didn't mean it. He couldn't mean it, but it was hard to ignore the sincerity of his field.
"Don't Bee," she whispered. "Don't save me. Don't even try." She looked away unable to meet his gaze. "I'll hurt you. I'll hurt you and everyone around you."
"You keep saying that. You haven't hurt me yet."
She snorted. "So? That doesn't mean that I won't."
"Doesn't mean that you will either," Bee countered. "You know, by trying to push me away, you're only showing me how much you care."
"Stop trying to understand me."
"I don't want to," Bumblebee said. He leant forward, pressing his forehead against the femme's, forcing her optics to look into his. "I want you. And nothing you say will change my mind."
Rating: T
Bumblebee sat in Prowl's office, optics intent on the white form pacing restlessly. She had been like this since he walked in about fifteen minutes ago. He had tried to get the femme's attention, but when he failed to gain a response, the scout thought it might be best to let Ashfire work off her anxiety.
Ashfire continued to pace back and forth in Prowl's office. The tactician had left once he regained his composure. Before leaving, Prowl had apologized to her for the incident and thanked her for her support. He informed her that Bumblebee would watch her and then was gone.
She had remained silent as she played witness to Prowl's weakness. She could still feel her tanks churning from the ache of Prowl's breakdown and his apology. Even now with Bumblebee in the room, she felt ill.
"Ashfire," Bumblebee said, not able to stand the femme's strange behavior. "What's wrong? You seem disturbed."
Disturbed? Yes, she was disturbed. Her creator just had a breakdown in her arms. How was she supposed to deal with that?
"Ashfire, what happened?" Bee asked, stepping close to the femme. "You're trembling."
She stopped her pacing when Bee stepped in front of her. She considered the yellow mech for a moment. She wanted, needed to forget what just transpired. She didn't know how to deal with things like that. However, her usual means of distraction such as high grade and drugs weren't at her disposal. But Bumblebee could provide an alternative means of coping.
She pressed herself against Bee and ran her hands down his chassis. "Distract me," she whispered, her mind still full of Prowl's broken words. "I don't want to think anymore."
Bumblebee shuddered as her hands and field worked against him. He could feel her need and desperation. Bee knew Ashfire was searching for an escape in physical intimacy. For a brief moment he wanted to fall to her demand as his arousal rose. He probably would have too, if he didn't feel her anxiety.
"Ashfire, stop," Bumblebee said. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands off his frame and cradling them between their bodies.
"Why?" the femme asked. "I need this right now. Don't you want me?"
"I do want you, but not like this."
"Why not?" The white femme snapped, jerking her hands back. "A frag's a frag."
"Ashfire, this isn't about 'facing," Bumblebee said, trying to soothe the femme. "You're hurting. I don't want to do it now and have one of us regret it later."
"So you think you'll regret 'facing with a dirty Con, huh?"
"No, it's not like that! I don't want to interface now 'cause you're not okay and I don't want you to feel used later."
The femme stood silent for a few moments. Bee's words gave her a touch of warmth. However, they weren't a balm for her already twisted and uncertain state of mind. They only made her uneasiness worse.
"Bee, I've been used since the day I was born." With those words the femme left the room.
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The troubled femme wandered the halls, lost in her head. She wanted a place to hide and forget the benign hell that was her life. Her life had become an emotional roller coaster, chipping away at her defenses, forcing her to consider things she had locked away and ignored. Frankly, she was exhausted the experience.
Because the more time she spent with Bumblebee and Prowl, the more her walls crumbled.
She didn't like it. It left her feeling vulnerable. She could almost hear Barricade calling her a foolish child. Her fancies would be the end of her if she couldn't control herself.
She needed to sever her attachments before their claws sunk in too deep. She could survive on her own. With humans advancing their technology it wouldn't be hard to get what she'd need, but….
She didn't want to leave.
She paused when the realization hit her. She didn't want to leave. Despite the confusion and doubt, she wanted to stay.
Ashfire could feel her doorwings trembling. Where was Barricade when she needed him?
A muffled moan caught Ashfire's attention. Deciding curiosity was better than misery, she crept towards the end of the hall. Peeping around the corner she saw three mechs. She recognized the silver and blue forms of Sideswipe and Jolt; however she'd never seen the red mech before.
She watched as Sideswipe pinned the red mech to the wall, the two in a furious lip lock, while Jolt kneeled before the stranger to tease his interface array.
Anger filled her as the scene reminded her of Bumblebee's rejection. How dare he say no to her? He had asked her, begged her to stay and when she offered herself to him, he refused her. What kind of slag is that?! She felt a growl building in her throat. Then there was a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around, she was met with the concerned gaze of Prowl.
"Ashfire," Prowl said. "Are you all right?"
She shifted her weight one foot to another as Jazz came up to stand beside Prowl. Bad enough that she was feeling like slag, but now Prowl's mate was here.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing a calm tone in her voice.
Prowl frowned. He could feel the unsteadiness of her field. She was upset and he wanted to comfort her.
Jazz was frowning as well. Bumblebee was rarely away from the femme, yet here she was in the hallway by herself, her field screaming emotional distress. "Where's Bumblebee?" Jazz asked.
"I don't know."
"What happened?" Prowl questioned, reaching out with his field to ease her distress. The tactician watched as the femme shifted again clearly uncomfortable.
"Nothing," she replied.
"Ashfire…"
"I'm going to go to my room," she said, moving past Prowl and Jazz to hopefully find sanctuary in her quarters.
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Prowl stared at the retreating form of his creation. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Perhaps he should…
Jazz grabbed Prowl's wrist. "Prowl don't."
Prowl looked at Jazz with wide optics. "You're kidding me."
"Nope."
"But Jazz…"
"Prowler," Jazz crooned. "It's okay. She's just upset right now and it was obvious she was uncomfortable when you asked what happened. She's a big girl. Give her some space and she'll talk when she's ready."
Prowl looked torn between listening to his mate and going after his child. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"How do you know?"
Jazz grinned. "She may be an ex-Con but she's still a younglin'. Bee's the same way."
A small smile appeared on Prowl's face. Jazz was still not fond of his creation but….he was trying.
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It was night when Bumblebee began his search for Ashfire. He thought that the femme wanted time to herself, so he had left her alone to cool down. Bumblebee knew that Ashfire would be in one of three places: her room, the med-bay, or the ocean.
He crossed the med-bay off the list since Ratchet was off duty. The only time Ratchet was off duty was when the neon mech was recharging and woe to those who dared to wake Ratchet from his well earned sleep. That meant that Ashfire was either in her room or at the ocean. After thinking about it, Bumblebee decided it would be easiest to check Ashfire's room first.
With that thought, the scout made his way to the femme's quarters.
Bumblebee opened the door to Ashfire's quarters and was surprised to find the femme there. She was lying on her berth, facing the wall. Bumblebee watched her doorwings twitch. She knew he was here.
The femme heard the door open and looked to see who had opened it. She hissed when she saw the scout. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you," Bumblebee answered, moving closer to the berth.
Ashfire snorted as she sat up to face to face the scout. "What for?" she asked.
"You were upset." Bumblebee's field reached out towards the femme as he kneeled before her. Her field was a turmoil of emotion. There was confusion, doubt, hurt. All Bumblebee wanted was to be able to comfort her.
Ashfire glared at the insolent mech. First he rejected her and then decided that he should come to her and save her from her misery? Slag that.
"I don't need you," Ashfire said, venom in her words. She said it with the intention to wound and felt a flare of sadistic glee when she saw the words hit home.
Bumblebee couldn't hide the hurt in his field, but with his field so close to Ashfire's he could tell she didn't truly mean it and told her so. "You don't mean that. Besides that's not what you said in Prowl's office."
Ashfire's optics flashed in hurt and anger. "That was before you turned me down," the femme snapped, her doorwings arching into a V behind her. "And don't give me that crap about how you didn't want to take advantage of me.
Bumblebee hummed a soothing note to the now agitated femme. He melded his field with Ashfire's to make her feel his honesty.
"Ashfire, I do want you," Bumblebee said, his voice and field earnest. "But I don't want to frag you."
The femme's optics flared with fury. She launched herself off the berth, tackling Bumblebee.
Bumblebee grunted when his back hit the ground. Bee knew he had to find a way to restrain the femme, or she wouldn't listen to him. When Ashfire raised her fist to strike him, the scout saw his chance. He rolled. Bumblebee used the femme's surprise to quickly grab her wrists, forcing them over her head and effectively pinning her.
The femme growled as she tried to twist away from Bumblebee.
"Ashfire please listen," Bumblebee pleaded, tightening his grip on the femme. "I don't want to frag you. What I want is to make love to you."
At first, the femme was still. But as the meaning of Bee's words sunk in, she began to tremble. He didn't mean it. He couldn't mean it, but it was hard to ignore the sincerity of his field.
"Don't Bee," she whispered. "Don't save me. Don't even try." She looked away unable to meet his gaze. "I'll hurt you. I'll hurt you and everyone around you."
"You keep saying that. You haven't hurt me yet."
She snorted. "So? That doesn't mean that I won't."
"Doesn't mean that you will either," Bee countered. "You know, by trying to push me away, you're only showing me how much you care."
"Stop trying to understand me."
"I don't want to," Bumblebee said. He leant forward, pressing his forehead against the femme's, forcing her optics to look into his. "I want you. And nothing you say will change my mind."