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It had to happen eventually
It had to.
But did it have to hurt this much?
For Bee to understand he had an enemy. That not everyone was his friend. That they were at war.
Optimus watched. He. Watched.
Ratchet working. Hand around the hole in Bee’s throat- fully encompassing his neck as he was applying pressure to stop the energon from flowing. The other holding Bee’s hands. Stopping Bee from clawing at himself.
It’s terrifying. How can a dying bot trash so much?
He’d been so still for so long… But the moment Ratchet touched his throat- he fought against him like his life depended on it. Biting and clawing at him and himself. Energon covered his chest. The table. The floor. His hands.
Primus, it was everywhere.
“Optimus- hold him down!” The medic ordered. “He’s going to hurt himself-”
Optimus Prime blinked and did as he was told. He pinned both of Bee’s arms to his side and used his forearm to press on his chest. Ratchet took care of his head. Quickly working now that he had the space.
He didn’t like how easy it was to hold him down, to immobilize him. How weak he felt despite giving everything he had to move- To scream.
His attempt wasn’t fully silent. There was crackling electricity- screeching, metal on metal. Nothing close to a voice. Like drowning a radio. It got worse. Optimus could read his lips- he was trying to speak in between screams.
‘Megatron’
‘why’
‘stop’
‘Optimus’
‘help’
‘please’
‘i’m sorry’
Bee didn’t know where he was. In shock. His mind was still back there. Stuck in that moment.
Optimus wasn’t there when it happened. He was so far away- too far away.
When Megatron ripped Bee’s throat out.
He should have been there. Should have stopped it.
Bee’s weak frame shook from under him and the Prime tried to make eye contact with his friend.
“You’ll be okay, Bee- Let Ratchet work his magic, alright?” He gave a small smile when Bee’s optics met his own.
Recognition.
Bee stops moving. He’d almost think he’d passed out if it wasn’t for his wide optics. Filled with pain. Filled with tears.
He opens his mouth and tries to speak. Crackling comes out and it sounds painful.
‘Optimus’
Bee tries to say his name. And he looks so- so glad. Like just him being there takes the pain away. Because he’s not alone.
His optics dim, flicker. They’re losing him. Frag. “Ratchet!”
Bee dies twice that night. His spark is weak and his body even more so. Optimus doesn’t leave.
Ratchet really worked miracles.
Bee laid on the table in a medically induced coma. Alive. Ratchet had to. Bee would have put himself in danger the moment he woke up. Undoing Ratchet’s work. He wouldn’t have let his frame heal. His condition was too delicate to risk Bee freaking out.
Optimus sat beside him. He looked at his body.
He’d been cleaned. Back to his bright yellow self. Optimus could still see the energon when he closed his optics. Feared that those optics would never open again.
Most of Bee’s frame had been unharmed. Untouched even. Like Megatron wanted him to survive. To live. To suffer.
The only damage was on his throat. His voice box and his intake. So much of it had been taken away it was a miracle his head could even hold on when they found him.
“He was conscious the whole time.” Ratchet gave him a datapad with his medical report “Conscious when we found him too.”
The fact Bee hadn’t been given the mercy of passing out when it happened would haunt him for a while.
“Why didn’t he…” Why didn’t Bee call for help? Obviously he couldn’t but- He had a panic button! “How was he so… still?”
“Shock.” Ratchet explained sadly “Awake but not aware. His processor couldn’t handle what happened to him so he put himself in a dazed state until I meddled with his throat. Optimus, it’s a trauma response. He might still think he’s back then when he wakes up, we’ll have to be ready to calm him down.”
“I’ll be there. I got through to him back then… He… recognized me.” He looked to the ground. “He called my name.” His voice is filled with guilt and he feels Ratchet’s hand on his arm.
They didn’t know what happened until they found him. Until he met Megatron on the battlefield and he mocked him. They could place the pieces together now.
…
“Can’t find your scout anymore, Prime?” Megatron snarled “I wonder why that is? Could it be that he finally saw he was on the wrong side of this war?”
“What have you done, Megatron?” His old enemy never brought something up for the sake of it- if he mentioned Bee…
Megatron used his distress to take him off guard and attack him “You’re a cruel, cruel mech, Prime.” A punch. A kick. Optimus swiped with his axe, Megatron caught his arm and headbutted him, sending him on the ground.
Optimus rolled away from another shot, readying his axe and looking at Megatron.
“He still believed we were friends- just as we were once brothers. Right to his end.” Another shot, another dodge. “You let him bury himself in his delusions. And that killed him.” A cruel laugh echoed.
Many would call Optimus Prime kind, soft, merciful and gentle. He was everything but when his family was threatened.
They found Bee soon after.
Broken. But online. Mouth agape, energon dripping from it. His throat…
…
Ratchet reconstructed most of it. He admitted that some of it was… impossible to restore fully.
His trachea was smaller than it used to be- he’ll have to stay on liquid energon for a while, maybe even energon patches to be safe.
Bee had a mouth. But it was uncertain if he could ever speak again. If he could make any noise at all. His voice box… Screaming as he had when he panicked did not do it any favors.
It took three days before Ratchet woke him up.
Optimus was there. He’d convinced Ratchet he could handle Bee on his own if there was panic.
Optimus believed that Bee wouldn’t want anyone else to see him at his worst.
Bee opened his optics. Stared at the ceiling. His optics focusing slowly. His mouth opened and he winced. Optimus held his hand and put his head so he could see him “Ey Bee. Do you remember what happened?”
Keep to yes or no questions.
Bee blinked. Opened his mouth again and winced. It hurt. “Bee- your voice box was damaged-”
Bee couldn’t hear him as the panic- the terror built up in his processor. Sending warning signals that deafened him.
You’re hurt. You’re dying. His processor tells him. You’re alone. Your throat- you have to check your throat. Check it- check it right now!
More aware by the second he sat up and put a hand to his throat, holding it firmly. No hole, no damage- it hurt inside. His mouth is wide open and it just HURTS.
There's a hand holding his own. He looks at it. Blue. Optimus. Optimus is here. They have to go- there’s danger. Wait- is there? Where- what? Everything is too bright- The hand around his throat tightens. There's another hand around his. Optimus rips away his hand- stopping Bee from choking himself and he can breathe again.
He gave Optimus a worried look. He lets his mouth open and he frowns. He- He still can’t talk? He can’t hear his voice? It- It just hurts. He tries again. Nothing. It hurts.
Optimus Prime looks at his yellow friend try to talk. Still not completely here yet- He didn’t have the heart to ask him not to try to talk. It would be too cruel.
Was it worse to let Bee figure it out for himself?
“Bee…”
Optimus saw him start to panic. Realizing. Vents speeding up and he fights to get his hands away from Optimus’ hold as his optics weld up with tears.
“Bee-” Optimus lets go and brings him into a hug instead “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t have the strength to tell him it’s going to be okay.
He felt Bee shaking in his arms, sobbing without making a sound. He felt a weak punch to his chest. And another.
and another.
each weaker than the previous one.
Optimus held him quietly.
Bee wanted to talk. Bee needed to talk.
Let him talk.
He punches Optimus but he doesn’t move, doesn’t let him go.
Bee needs to scream.
Scream. Scream. Scream. Scream.
It’s too quiet- did he go deaf?
It hurts. He tries to scream. Tries to make any kind of noise and he can’t and it HURTS. Why does it hurt? He doesn’t stop trying.
He can’t talk. He can’t talk. He can’t do anything. He can’t breathe. He can’t feel his hands. He can’t feel his body. He can’t see. He can’t hear.
He. Can’t. Talk.
“It’s going to be- It’s- We… We’ll figure something out.” Optimus speaks softly into his ear, Bee freezes.
He hears that- keep talking. Keep talking. Please. Please. There’s too much nothing. He shakes again.
He punches Optimus. TALK.
He tries to scream it at him. The louder he tries to be, the more his throat hurts- but it would be worth it if even the quietest of whispers gets out.
PLEASE TALK. NOISE. ANYTHING.
He can’t make his own anymore. Please. Please talk. He can’t ask him to talk. He clenches his teeth together and grinds them. That’s a noise. noise. noise. noise. It’s not enough. He needs a voice. He punches Optimus again.
“Bee- Bee it’s okay.” No it’s not okay but thank you for talking “Why are you punching me-” Prime asks himself more than Bee. Because Bee can’t ANSWER.
He’s not crying anymore- he knew what he needed.
PLEASE KEEP TALKING-
He doesn’t.
Bee frowns. He opens his optics. He didn’t realize he had closed them. He worms himself upwards so he can look up at Prime’s face. Stupid face with a mouth that should talk. He manages to get his hands above his head and he grabs Prime’s face.
“Bee?” Optimus looks down at him and lets him go a bit- FINALLY!
He brings Prime’s face close to his own and tries to say ‘Talk’ it hurts- but Optimus can read his mouth.
“You can’t talk Bee- your voice box…” Optimus looks away and quiets down.
OH- COME ON! It wasn’t time for whatever self inflicted guilt Optimus had decided to make himself wallow in to stop him from talking! It’s time to talk! And looking away from the bot that CAN’T is really a bad move.
He clasps Prime’s cheeks with his hands, harder than he should- sue him he’s having a breakdown. He needed him to talk. He needed his attention. Optimus looks at him again, confused and worried.
‘talk’ he mouths again. He tries to say the word- it hurts. Small shocks going along his throat and into his head and teeth- He feels like he could electrify someone by biting them.
“Talk?” Optimus, who was probably having his own kind of breakdown, FINALLY sees that Bee is trying to communicate, that his optics have cleared up of the fog that had started to accumulate and he gives Bee his entire attention.
He doesn’t blame Prime for not getting it right away… He was just… punching him. He didn’t know how else to get his attention!
What could he do? Ask? AH!
Bee nods desperately.
‘You’ He mouths as he boops Optimus on the nose ‘talk’
“You talk- Me talk? You want me to talk?”
Bee nods. Optimus Prime’s eyebrows shoot up “Oh-” About time he got it!
He sits on the bed in front of Bee. The small yellow bot crosses his legs so he has space. He looks up at Optimus with bright blue optics.
Optimus remembers those optics flickering. Words catch in his throat but he swallows the memory down.
“I can talk- talk about what. Talk talk.” Rambling was never Optimus’ forte. That was Bee’s thing. Was.
The Prime was quick and efficient with his words. It was built into him. He never had to drag out his thoughts.
He’d do it for Bee. “You’ve been asleep for three days and three nights… you were badly damaged and you… and Ratchet had to put you back together real good.” Optimus drags out his words, speaking slowly and trying to find things to talk about.
This was good. A voice. Noise. Bee’s shoulders relax and he can breathe again. The more Optimus talks, the better he feels. He’s not alone.
He can look around. Oh- He’s in the med bay. There’s a table beside him filled with get well cards- He picks one up.
He shoves it in Optimus’ face because he can’t ask about them.
“Oh, the cards- Everyone has been very worried and they couldn’t stay by your side. They all left you a little something… em… This is from Jazz- do you want me to read them out to you?” He asks
Bee nods. Please talk. Please don’t stop talking.
Optimus spends the next hour reading out the cards, talking about the bots and how worried each of them were when they visited him. He did (bad) impressions of them all. Of Jazz singing him a song so he’d get better. Prowl muttering about something that sounded dangerous- Elita promising him she’d kill Megatron for this.
Megatron.
…
Megatron made him choose. He made him choose between his friends. He remembers now. They were alone.
Bee was good at being on his own. He had a lot of practice. So absolutely no problem for him to sneak through the battlefield to deliver information from point A to B.
He was also good at hiding- But why would he hide from a friend? Decepticons: sure he’d hide. But when he saw his good friend Megatron standing over there? He revealed himself immediately and greeted Megs with a warm smile- He smiled back. Bee thinks it’s a warm smile. He just tells him ‘hi’ they can talk later but he’s in a rush right now- still it’s good to see him!
There’s a servo on his shoulder before he can leave. Megatron asks him a question.
And Megatron made him choose.
Bee couldn’t. He wanted both! He wanted all his friends to get along! They were the first friends he’d ever made. He didn’t want to lose either. It wasn’t unreasonable.
“I can’t… Megatron. Why are you making me choose? I can’t choose.” He looks at Megatron. Confused.
Unafraid.
Megatron closes his optics, sighs, slides his servo to Bee’s throat. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
He opens his optics and smiles. Bee smiles too, of course he wasn’t going to make him choose, they’re friends-
“Let that indecision be the last thing you have a word in.” And then there was pain. He didn’t have time to scream before that option was taken away from him.
That’s not what friends do.
…
He’s with friends now.
Right? The Autobots. They’re his friends. His family. Right?
He listens to Optimus talk. They’re friends, right?
He… he isn’t sure anymore. Megatron was his friend. Or… he thought he was. He was wrong. Maybe they were never friends…
Who’s to say he isn’t wrong about Optimus too? Prowl? Elita? She always called him annoying… always rolled her eyes when he’d talk for too long- was she his friend?
Would she hurt him too? Is that what friends do?
Did he have any friends?
What *is* a friend?
…
It took a few days before Bee could walk out of the med bay- before he could handle being on his own at all. Before Ratchet evaluated him capable of being on his own. Before he was okay with… silence.
Before that, the autobots took shifts to watch over him, talk to him.
Bee finds it cruel that he can’t look at any of them in the optics. That he avoids hugs. That he can’t call them friends anymore. Because he doesn’t know what that is.
Jazz plays music. Bee liked music. It was fun noise! Jazz would sing along and Bee would try to follow… despite the hurt it would bring him. And he’d given him a pad to write with. He was very grateful for it.
Ultra Magnus would describe, move by move, a chess game he’d played months ago, which tumbled into him teaching the yellow bot how to play chess, teaching him about the history of the game at the same time.
Elita one didn’t have a lot of time to take a shift but she’d talk to him about a battle or another- describing anything cool she did. She was usually accompanied by Arcee and Chromia, who would give Bee all the gruesome details (which he loved). The over excited femmes would be kicked out by Ratchet when they made too much of a ruckus.
Optimus tried to ramble about things- tried. Bee… couldn’t look at him anymore. He’d sit with his back facing Optimus, feet dangling in the air. The Prime would mirror his position on the other side of the bed and talk. They gave each other wary looks over their shoulders every now and then.
When the leader of the autobots talked, it was… awkward. He’d always accidentally bring up the… incident and when he tried telling a story about his youth- he’d stop when D-16 was involved. Bee didn’t care- But Optimus obviously did and would do that awkward guilty face and pin his finials all the way back- Bee would throw a pillow at his head when he did it.
Ratchet was here to do his job- He was ALWAYS in the med bay. But when it was time to check up on Bee, he’d stay longer to answer any of his questions (that he’d write on his pad, thanks again Jazz) about his condition. Ratchet never sugarcoated the truth.
‘When will I be able to talk again?’
“I’m looking into it, but don’t get your hopes up.”
‘Why does it hurt when I try to talk?’
“It does? Bee that’s great- it means your wires are still sending signals-” And brought his own data pad to show him what it meant and what his options were.
One thing they were sure of though- his voice box was unfixable. But… it could be… repurposed. Talking was out of the options- but noises? Noises were much more plausible.
He agreed with Ratchet for whatever idea he had for him to make any kind of sound- It would take a while to find what he needed in time of war, but that plan was the reason he wasn’t completely losing his mind.
After a few other check ups- and after nearly biting off one of Ratchet’s fingers when he suddenly touched his throat without warning- he was… good to go. Just don’t touch his neck.
And now he was out of the med bay… alone. Completely fine.
Totally.
The first thing he did when he got out was go to sub-level 50.
Maybe not the smartest thing to do. Seeing as he couldn’t stand… quiet.
It’s not like he’d need to talk…
He reached his special place quick enough- because yeah, maybe it’d been his prison for like… 45 cycles or so but… well that’s still the most familiar place he had that isn’t…
It’s the one place he had that isn’t anyone else's. It was his special place…
So he goes down there, it’s more lively than it used to be. Poster with bright colours on the walls, fairy lights, he’d installed a shelf and put some souvenirs on it.
The gang is where they always are. He waves at them and they don’t wave back. He lays down on the floor between the conveyor and the table. He looks up and he sees his favourite addition: glow in the dark stars.
They don’t really glow since the furnace is always on. But it is nice to look at. It’s like being outside but inside. He chuckles weakly thinking about it- laughing hurts.
He puts a hand to his throat…
Bee remembers when he started down here. He used to be quiet. Why talk when you’re alone? It was just after some time he couldn’t handle the silence.
His comm turns on and he hears:
“Where are you?” Elita-One asks him. She was the only one that could call him anytime and it just went through- everyone else? He had to pick up their call… a small internal check reveals he has a few dozen missed calls from Prime… oops.
He ignores it. It’s not like he can answer anyway. It seems Elita realizes that too because she quickly adds “I’m going to go get you, Bee. I’m pretty sure I know where you snuck off to. How about I talk to you on my way there?”
Bee keeps looking at the ceiling. Right. Not a lot of people knew he ever went back down here sometimes, Elita was one of the few. Optimus himself didn’t even know- he’d probably ask him to stop.
Bee didn’t answer.
She talks anyway “Big guy is pretty worried about you. His finals haven’t gone up in hours. Can’t blame him. You know he hasn’t left your side when you were out until I dragged him out to recharge? He’s a buffoon- If he doesn’t take care of himself, how can he expect to take care of others.” Bee can hear the eye roll “I learned about your situation-”
read: I stole your medical rapport and read it “If you’re not going to be able to talk for a while I better teach you some signs. I’m not sure if you ever were a miner but down there we sometimes couldn’t really talk over the noise, so we used hand signals.”
Hand signals? Bee stretched his arms above his head, looking at his hands.
“I think you’ll take to those well- Talking with hands. It’s basic stuff but every former miner will know what you mean- we can make new signs together for the rest. We’re the ones that made those up in the first place so it’s not like there's a standard for them. Almost there.”
Talking with hands? That’s… cool…
“It’ll be extremely useful to learn- you know? Imagine we’re on a stealth mission, we’ll need to communicate silently. That alone is going to convince anyone that wouldn’t want to learn the signals… and if that’s not enough I’ll just…”
The door opens and in walks Elita. Bee sits up, arms still outstretched as he looks at Elita-One, hits her fist into her open palm as she smirks.
She’s a bit tall for the space but she doesn’t let it bother her, she walks over to him, kicking his pede with her own “There’s my go-bot.” She sits down at the table next to AA-Tron. “Ready to learn how to talk with your servos?” She wiggles her fingers.
Bee jumps to his feet and nods eagerly, maybe the first time in days he actually feels excited about something. They spend the better part of the day and night Ignoring Optimus Prime’s calls doing this.
She teaches him every sign she knows. Go. Stay. Yes. No. Danger. Safe. Go back. Go deeper. Up. Down. Some letters and a few others.
Bee absorbs the knowledge like he’s just been given the power to save the world- his world. Then Elita and him figure out some other things on their own- He writes down a list of words on his data pad that he feels he absolutely needs to have a sign for. Mostly names.
Optimus prime is the L shape (L for ‘leader’) at the sides of his head with both pointer fingers pointing up and wiggling- imitating his finials.
Elita-One is a salute followed by the number one.
Jazz is the motion a DJ-bot would do to roll some vinyls.
Prowl is one hand to the forehead, thumb tucked inward and fingers separated in two to mimic his red forehead horns.
Ratchet is the word Safe done over a shoulder where his medic insignia is.
Mirage is waving in front of his face a few times as he knows he does to people when he becomes invisible.
Everyone gets a name like that- Elita-One takes pictures of each of the signs with the datapad so refer to later. And then there are the words he really needs to have: Friend, enemy, happy, sad, help, talk-
The list goes on and on. They come up with dozens of words together- Bee… Bee needs a lot of words.
It does mean they don’t manage to make all the words in one go before Bee admits that he… is tired and probably needs a recharge and some energon. He also looks and- oh boy… There's like a hundred missed calls.
He goes to write something on his datapad but Elita-One takes it “Ey- use the words we spent 12 hours making together. “
Bee smiles ‘Optimus Prime worried. Go back up’
Elita smiles and answers ‘yes, go back up. Together.’
It feels so good to just- communicate… He almost cries right then and there.
“But before we go- I think we can do one more word.”
‘What?’ Bee signs and tilts his head.
“Your name, Bee- you gave everyone else one, you should have one too.”
Bee is confused and simply signs the Letter ‘B’ and then the numbers ‘1-2-7’
“Nah- That’s your designation. I think you deserve your own special name- especially in this language, because it’s your language now.” She taps him on the shoulder.
‘Okay. Think it Later’ Because he wasn’t going to disagree with Elita-One. She’s scary.
“Alright- take your time with it. It’s your name after all. Come on, let’s go back before Optimus” She signs his name, pointing her fingers up “Is really mad” She points her fingers backward and frowns in peak Prime imitation.
Bee laughs silently. It hurts. It hurts but it feels good to actually find something worth laughing for.
They go back to the surface and before they join the autobots… he can’t help himself. He has to ask.
‘We friends, Elita-One? Friend? Are we? You. Me. Friends?’ He signs a couple times to make sure Elita saw right.
Elita looks… sad. Which for her is terrifying. The only time he’d ever seen her close to this sad was when Orion Pax got thrown into the pit and he had to hold her back from jumping after him.
It’s quickly gone and she smiles “We just spent 12 hours in a hole making up a new language so you can speak with your hands. I think you get to choose if that makes me your friend or not.” And she left it at that.
It was sweet of her to tell him that he gets to decide- But he didn’t really trust his judgment about friends right now…
He opens his datapad and starts a new document titled ‘friends?’ In it he draws three vertical lines and writes ‘Friend’ ‘Friend?’ ‘Enemy’ on top of each section. He puts Megatron in the last section and Elita…
He looks at Elita as they walk to base.
He considers it… She always called him annoying. Rolled her eyes when he talked too much. Called him out when he did something dumb- she was also one of the only bots that knew how to find him. The only one that could contact him anytime…
He puts Elita in the first section and puts in parentheses “Hand talk” as a reason under her name. Everyone else he puts in the middle. He… He wasn’t sure about them yet.
He found some confidence when Elita looked over his shoulder and smiled when she saw what section she was in.
He was quick to hide the datapad when Optimus accosted them.
“Bee! Elita- I’ve been trying to contact you all day. Are you alright?” Optimus, expectantly, started fussing over them. He checks Bee over first, Bee moves away when he tries to check his neck. He didn’t like when anything came close to it. He even showed his teeth, threatening to bite.
Optimus tried to act as if he didn’t notice the flinch and continued “I bet neither of you have had energon- here.” He put a couple energon patch on Bee’s head and arm then gave Elita a cube that she casually ate while reassuring him that, yes, they are fine.
Bee would have thrown a pillow at him when he saw his finials… instead he signed OP’s name and pointed backward like Elita had done. She laughed and did the same. They looked at eachother, frowning and acting like upset Optimus until said bot spoke up.
“Are you mocking me?” Optimus watched them, his finials flicked. His worry was very much warranted. You don’t go awol and expect him NOT to worry about his friend that ALMOST DIED A FEW DAYS AGO-
Bee smiled and silently chuckled ‘yes’
The Prime blinked at Bee’s smile, relaxing as he saw how bright his friend was, acting more like himself than he had in days- then saw the sign. “Ey is that-” His finials are upwards again.
Optimus was a miner- he knew that sign! Bee nodded and smiled brightly ‘Yes!’ and then did some more signs that Prime didn’t recognize. He looked to Elita for answers.
“We’re making a standard for Hand Talk. I’ll send you the files soon so you can learn.” She ruffled the top of Bee’s head. “Can’t stop this little Bee from talking for too long. It’s already so quiet I thought I’d gone deaf without him talking my ears off.”
In the next couple days Elita and him refined the signs they’d come up with and set up MANY meetings with bots to teach them the signs and come up with more. Mostly scouts like him, they were the ones that would need it the most. They were quite enthusiastic about it- and since they had to practice using them together, Bee felt like he signed just as much as he used to talk.
It was nice but it wasn’t perfect.
Elita had also sent the signs to all the lieutenants and Optimus- She was very convincing when she ‘gently’ asked them to learn it. Still… they were at war. Not a lot of time for them to think of anything else… So he didn’t really expect any of them to learn just for his sake.
If Bee wasn’t teaching his scouts… he was left alone. Even surrounded by people, all talking and interacting. He was quiet.
It felt lonely.
He could write on his pad, sure… but it was just… too slow? He had trouble writing fast enough, he’d forget what he wanted to say or just miss his opening in the conversation to say what he wanted- and even when he was fast enough, the conversation was put on pause because the bots had to READ. It was a lot of waiting and a lot of quiet moments…
So when there wasn’t anyone he could talk with… He’d just… watch them.
There’s a reason why he was a scout. He was sneaky. You’d think being yellow was a disadvantage and you’d be wrong. Bee was the best of the best at not being seen. He was small and fast and if he needed to disappear he was gone before you turned around.
This time he was in a nook of the ceiling, watching and listening to people talk. Moving from hiding spot to hiding spot like he used to when he lived in level sub-50. He also used that time to… spy on the people in his ‘friends?’ list.
It wasn’t hard. He was very sneaky. Watching them like this would be a great way of gathering intel to decide if they were friends or not. Plus spying was the one activity he liked doing that involved him actively not talking- so he felt… normal. He could pretend he wasn’t broken.
Being hidden also meant he was free to cry as much as he needed without being disturbed… It’s not like anyone could hear him either. A win-win situation.
After a good cry he’d go back to watch the autobots.
For fun he’d repeat their conversations to himself in Hand Talk. Good way to practice and note down which common words they’d needed to come up with.
Slowly, one by one, he decided to put each bot in the ‘friends’ section with a small reason why written underneath- Yes, even Ultra Magnus.
One name he couldn’t bring himself to transfer over was Optimus Prime.
He just… He just couldn’t.
It didn’t make sense. Out of any bot here he was the one that did the most for him. He was always there for him- He knew he cared about him. But…
What if it was like Megatron? What if he just… wasn’t his friend?
He watched as Optimus Prime spoke calmly to Jazz, sending him on a mission. “May you return to us in one piece, friend.” He always called people ‘friend’...
Bee did that too. More in his head than out loud… He opens his mouth and it just hurts.
He doesn’t try to say anything in particular anymore. He just opens his mouth and… tries to make a noise. Just to feel that pain. To remind him that it’s still there and that Ratchet is working on a way to use it.
It was weird to spy on Optimus Prime… He never really took the time to look at him act before.
He’s always slumping down because he bumps his helm on things. Bee always remembers him standing straight and tall.
When he’s with people he has his battle mask, he doubts he’s smiling under it. Bee remembers seeing Prime without his mask more often than not, and always manages to smile at least once.
Weird thing too is that he asks people about Bee a lot. “Have you seen Bee?” or “Do you happen to know if B-127 was here earlier?” is said a lot. It’s awkward because Bee doesn’t have a name for himself yet so he just spells it.
When he’s alone he reads over datapads, goes to the archives for hours. Take walks in peaceful places. Bee always remembers him doing anything BUT relax… maybe he only allows himself to when he’s alone?
He just acts differently than when Bee is around… Or maybe he remembers wrong?
Bee can’t help but think he looks lonely.
He also spies on him… when he probably shouldn’t. He was free to roam the base but Ratchet (and prime) hadn’t cleared him for missions yet…
Yet here he was… Following Optimus on a mission…
He’d followed him all day and he learned this was a retrieval mission- they’d received a distress signal in a previously ravaged settlement of neutral siding bots… Optimus was to go check it out solo and call backup if needed… Bee decided he was the backup.
The settlement wasn’t a pretty sight. It was… well… destroyed. He saw dried up energons in a few places and a few crushed bodies in the places he’d sneak into to stay out of Prime’s scans… He’d check if they were functioning… none of these bots were.
Bots that choose not to choose a side. Decepticon or Autobot… Megatron or Optimus Prime. And it got them killed anyway.
He wonders how Optimus would react if he told them they weren't friends… or that he wasn’t sure… Maybe he’d rip out the remaining wires in his throat…
He keeps sneaking around until he sees Optimus pick up the distress signal location- he follows him to it. Keeping his distance but keeping an optic on him and their surroundings. Doing his own scans. No life signs…
It doesn’t look good. He watches as Prime lifts up an enormous piece of rubble, and then another- and another… he lifts up the equivalent of an entire house before stopping. He drops to his knees.
Bee gets some height on a remaining wall and watches as Optimus slowly, carefully lifts up a tiny yellow body from the hole he just made. It fits completely in both his palms… He’s so gentle about it, it’s hard to imagine those servos being anything else…
…
A protoform?
He scans… he only catches Optimus’ life signal.
Oh- Oh frag.
Bee climbs down from his perch and carefully gets closer- without making a noise. He just… needed to make sure Prime was okay.
He keeps doing his scans until he’s hiding behind one of the pieces of rubble that Prime had taken off earlier. Back pressed against the stone. He listens.
Optimus was crying. The protoform didn’t make it. They were too late.
One thing he realized when spying on Prime… was how much death he had to deal with. Every fallen autobot, he was there to see them off. To write off their names from lists and add them to obituaries. He always came back to battle sites to retrieve bodies- or what was left of them. He gave a lot of effort to just… be there. For the dead.
He remembers Elita saying she had to drag him away when he was asleep… Did he think he’d die?
Bee heard crying. That’s a sound he doesn’t like.
He got out of his hiding spot- he really was only a couple meters away from the big guy. He stood by him and put a hand on his shoulder. He startled, clutching the protoform as if to protect it.
‘Safe’ he signed… Because… They were safe. Optimus was safe.
Optimus put up his battle mask, surprised and confused to see Bee- right there. ”Bee? W-what are you doing here?” Bee shouldn’t be there- what the frag?
Bee tilts his helm and uses his hands ‘Go deeper. Safe. Stay?’ only using basic words in case Optimus didn't know the others.
Optimus tilted his head. Bee noticed he was still holding the protoform. Bee pointed at it. ‘Go’ He offered his arms for Optimus to give it to him.
He looked down at it and blinked his last tears away. He looks at Bee, then the protoform. The small body was a greyed out yellow, he imagines that’s what Bee’s would look like if he’d died that day.
He blinks “Em…” Just trying to figure out what Bee meant distracted him from the grief a little. “You can use… more words. I learned them…” Of course he did- he hadn’t had the opportunity to use them yet since... since Bee was avoiding him.
Bee nodded- then realized they hadn’t come up with the word funeral yet in Hand Talk…
‘No word for it’ he pointed at the protoform ‘Put to stasis in ground, talk. Together.’ He then pointed to the hole he’d taken the protoform from- he saw the distress signal device and picked it up and turned it off, putting it in his subspace before looking at the hole some more… trying to decide if this made a good burying ground… Optimus talked as he cleaned it up.
“You want… a funeral? Bee- Why are you here?” Optimus got up from his knees, still holding the protoform gently “Did you have a message to deliver…?”
Bee quickly waved ‘No. Complicated. I’m your backup. I’m here for Optimus Prime.’ He used his hand name, pointing his fingers back when he did to imitate Prime’s finials. He felt that Prime now had two hand names.
‘Happy Optimus Prime’ when his finials were up and ‘upset Optimus Prime’ when his finials were down… he used both hand signs a lot.
Prime put down his Battle mask to reveal a small smile. “You were spying on me, weren’t you?”
Bee chose not to answer that.
They eventually laid down the little guy to the ground. Burying it. Optimus says a few words. For the protoform, for the whole settlement, for every bot that lost their life in a similar way, for those they couldn’t save.
They walked back. It’d take more time but he felt they needed it.
He walked in front of Prime once they were outside the settlement, backwards so he could see his hands better. ‘Do you think it was their fault?’ He tries a few other ways to word it to get his point across. ‘Not you. Not him. Gone. Angry?’ and ‘If choose a side maybe they would be okay’
“Bee. It was their choice. I cannot blame them for not wanting to fight a war they don’t feel is theirs.”
‘If me, still true?’ He hesitates to sign.
Optimus pauses, stops walking even. Bee stops too
Theres a moment of silence.
‘Talk please’ Bee gently muses.
OP blinks “No… I'm… I wouldn’t blame you if you chose not to fight…” His finials go back again.
‘Upset Optimus Prime’ Bee hand talks.
“I’d… I’d miss you, Bee. A lot.” And then he shakes his hands before signing ‘If You leave. You, me, friends?’
No one ever asked him if they were friends before…
Bee nods ‘yes’ he smiles ‘Friend Not leave’
He chooses right then and there what his name is. ‘Happy Optimus Prime’ he gets his attention ‘My name’
He shows him, forming his right servo into a ‘y’ handshape to the side of his head and shaking it a couple times, pinky finger pointing up. Mimicking his own moving finials.
Their names matched.
Optimus replicated the movement- doing it with both hands on each side of his head and then frowned and put his pinky fingers down- doing his own version of ‘upset Bee’
They laugh.
When they came back… and after Ratchet gave him a piece of his mind for sneaking off base despite his condition. He changed Optimus Prime’s name to the friend section.
He showed Elita his list and she smiled at seeing the reason why Optimus was his friend. “I agree. You’re a good friend, Bee.” He also shows her his name and decide that the ‘y’ handshape shaking a couple times can also mean ‘yellow’. It fits.
It’s nice to have friends. Bee still keeps to the shadows most days- He still cries in secret. He still spies on his friends… but it’s more of a game now.
They start to catch on that when they can’t see Bee… there’s a chance that HE can see THEM. Once he saw Prowl trip and break a table by falling on it-
He’d suspiciously look around him to try and find the Bee- “If you’re here… Not a word to anyone about this.”
Ironhide was more active about it, he’d actively seek him out. Trying to get better at noticing when he was being watched… he’d get it about… two out of ten times… But he did get better at it over time. Learning a lot of Bee’s hiding places- It was fun.
He actually talks to Ratchet, he doesn’t hide from him. He’d just… sit on a seat in the corner and watch him work. Planning about his new noise box when he had some free time- because it can’t be a voice box, it’ll just make noises. The medic admits there is no way to know what kind of noises it’ll be, but he has a few ideas.
He’s surprised to be afraid when the day arrives he gets his noise box… Part of it is because he has to be awake for this. And he still absolutely hated anytime anything came even close to his throat.
Remember- he bites.
Elita and Optimus are there when it happens. Every step of the way. They held his shoulders- he needed his hands to talk. Ratchet would ask him questions at each step, making sure nothing went wrong and he wouldn’t freak out on them…
Using his hand did help him stop the craving to rip Ratchet’s hands away from him.
When it was done, Ratchet gave him the go to make a sound and-
He paused.
And then let out the loudest sound he could muster. It was high pitched and irritating, like a malfunctioning alarm. A screech. A fracturing glacier. A dog whistle.
Ratchet, Elita, Optimus and anyone that was unfortunate to be near (all his friends waiting outside the room) all had to cover their ears over it because OW.
It was weird- because he didn’t need to open his mouth to make sounds (meaning he couldn’t be gagged) but he did so anyway because it felt natural. It wasn’t as satisfying as talking but he could feel the noise reverberate in his throat and his body, it was GREAT.
After he calmed down he gave Ratchet the biggest hug ever and let out a series of beep, whistle, woooo and buzz sounds.
“I’m already regretting this.” the gruff medic grunted but hugged back awkwardly, giving his back a few taps.
“That- has got to be something we can use against the Decepticons” Elita jokes “You’re louder than you used to be, bud.”
“Means we’ll be able to hear you from really far away-” Optimus shook the dizziness away. Because wow. Ow.
Then Bee went on a rampage- Quickly trying out each sound he could make as fast as he could. Running out the room to crash into his friends, buzzing.
He used his hands at the same time ‘LOOK I’M MAKING NOISES!’ Beep beep whistle buzz buzz.
Base got their little noisy ball of sunshine back- and they were all better for it.
The war continued. He lost some friends. Made others. Added to his list of enemies.
He faced Megatron again.
He survived.
He was the best scout they had. He knew how to hide. To be quiet. He would only be found if he chose to be. He wouldn’t make the mistake of showing himself to Megatron ever again- Until he did.
It’d been centuries until the grey mech saw Bee again- He’d heard tales of Prime’s yellow scout. Rumours. The yellow pest that always snuck past their cameras and guards. Practically a ghost. Prime’s shadow- or maybe his light.
Because that’s what he looked like when he jumped out at him, blocking his sword with his knife hands, stopping him from decapitating Prime.
And then that sound- A screech- made him stumble backwards and cover his audials. That gave Prime time to stand back up and summon his axe- The primary coloured duo stood together as one.
They fought.
The war raged on for millenia.
Megatron took his voice, but it was his mistake to leave him his life. He might have won if he had been less cruel.