TFA: You Can Never Escape

Title: You Can Never Escape
Rating: T
Characters: Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Bulkhead and MONSTER Bumblebee
Summary: Halloween brings more than painful memories for Optimus; it’s the time of the year where the dead walk.

Optimus sat bolt upright, optics wide and pale.

For a few moments, he felt disorientated, unsure of where he was. That scream still rang in his meta, not helping the nightmare to fade. After a few moments, he registered that it was not real, and the whole thing had been just, another, terrible memory purge.

Groaning, he leant back against the wall, rubbing his optics. What he wouldn’t give for a few cycles of decent recharge, where his dreams weren’t filled with death and...

No, it was too horrible; he didn’t want to think about it.

Getting up, he moved out of his sleeping chamber and into his office. It was still strange, even after nearly a year, to walk into this office. Ultra Magnus’ old office, then of course, Sentinel had his brief time here, before Optimus had...well, he’d really had no choice but to take over. Sentinel was offline, so was Ultra Magnus and...no, he didn’t want to think about that. He had work he should finish.

Sitting down at his desk, he picked up the data-pad closest to him. At least he could depend on work to distract him from what he couldn’t bear to remember.

8888

“Bumblebee, what have you done?!” Optimus cried, having rushed to Sentinel’s distress call with what remained of his team. Bumblebee...or this mutated Bumblebee turned to look at him, piercing lavender optics burning into his spark.

“I’ve made perfection, don’t you see Optimus? Don’t any of you?!” he snarled, “No more leaders, all of them are dead. This war can end now!”

“It will never end! Kid, just come with us, we can help you!” Ratchet shouted from his left, optics desperate, “We’ve lost enough, we won’t lose you too.” This new Bumblebee growled in response, optics burning with fury.

“You wouldn’t help me then, why should I believe you’ll help me now?” his voice was cold, “You them do this to me! You let them! You! You! You!”

“No we didn’t, we didn’t know little buddy,” Bulkhead said, trying to calm the mutated Autobot, “But we can help now, we will help you, we promise.” He paused, for just a moment, letting the words hang in the air.

“...No. I don’t believe you, why should I believe you?” Bumblebee growled softly, “None of you would help me, all you’ll do is lock me away. Well never again!” He stood on his back legs, the bot once the smallest of their team, now just towering over Optimus himself, “I’m not going back there, never, never, never!”

“Scatter!” Optimus yelled, diving out of the way with his small team as Bumblebee’s large tail smashed down where he’d just been standing. The walls of the fire weakened structure they were standing in shock with the force of the impact. New Bumblebee wasn’t like the old Bumblebee at all. He’d managed to take down three bots once much bigger than him without them leaving much more than minor damage on him.

“The only one who wanted to help me was Prowl, and now, he’s abandoned me too!” Bumblebee shrieked, energon spilling from his jaws.

“Kid, Prowl is offline!” Ratchet cried, “He’s been offline for years, don’t you remember? We carried his frame back to Cybertron from Earth, he sacrificed himself-”

“LIAR!” Optimus had to cover his audios at the sound that came from the mutated beetle, “HE IS NOT DEAD! I saw him! I saw him, yes I did! He spoke to me, helped me, then he left me! JUST LIKE YOU!” He spun around, focusing on the bot closest to him. Optimus tried to get up and move backwards, but not quick enough. His black and yellow tail whipped around, catching the Prime right on the helm. He tried to hold onto reality as the world splintered with pain. For a few moments, he was completely immobile, suspended in a state between unconscious and consciousness. He couldn’t even hear what was happening to his comrades, his friends...was this...this monster that had replaced their youngest going to kill them too? Bumblebee...no, that wasn’t Bumblebee...it’d had no trouble finishing off Ultra Magnus, Sentinel, and even Megatron himself...they had no chance.

When his systems finally reset and his senses came back to him, he could hear talking, though it seemed strangely quiet. He looked over in the direction of the noise, spark skipping a beat. There he was, standing over Bulkhead, ready to deal a deadly blow. He reacted without even thinking, just knowing he couldn’t lose another team mate...

The sound that left Bumblebee’s vocaliser as the axe sank into the back of his helm was something that would haunt him forever...

8888

“Optimus?” said mech jolted back online, shaking his helm.

“O-Oh, yes, sorry Cliffjumper, what were you saying?”

“It’s Halloween, sir, we wanted to know if we could finish early?” when Cliffjumper didn’t get a response, he frowned, optics darkening with concern, “Sir, are you alright?”

Halloween...well that certainly explained the nightmares. Optimus rubbed his temple. The small team that’d come back from Earth had worked together to get a few Earth holidays implemented on Cybertron, mainly Halloween and Christmas, and they’d become very popular over the last few years. He’d been almost looking forward to it this year; it was a nicer way to honour Bumblebee’s memory, the real Bumblebee. He’d been the one that’d pushed the hardest to get this holiday.

Now he remembered. He’d been walking through Cybertron, he couldn’t really remember what he was doing. But he’d stumbled along a group of sparklings helping each other create costumes. He’d turned to go and see what they’d come up with, a bright smile on his faceplate, when he’d realized just what they were dressing up as.

“Look at me!” one of them giggle, pulling on the helmet he’d crafted, “I’m Bumblebee, I’m gonna eat you all up!” The other sparklings laughed and shrieked happily. To them it was one big joke. They hadn’t had to mourn their lost friend, or been the one to deactivate a bot they’d considered a son. It’d shocked him to the very core, and he’d fled before they could realize he was there.

“Sir?!” Cliffjumper called, sounding alarmed, pulling Optimus out of another day-dream.

“Y-Yes, I’m sorry Cliffjumper, I have a lot on my mind,” he sighed, looking at the red minibot, “Of course you can leave early. Go have fun.”

“Thank you sir, but I’m going to get you a medic...you don’t look so good,” before Optimus could protest, Cliffjumper was gone, calling back to him, “Don’t worry sir, I’m sure Ratchet won’t mind helping you out.”

If only you knew how much he minded...he thought. Less than 10 minutes later, the medic was at the door, and, as predicted, he was wearing a less than impressed expression.

“I hear you have a lot on your mind,” Ratchet said coldly, glaring at him from the door.

“I do,” Optimus said, sitting up, “I’m having terrible memory purges at night, do you-”

“Memory purges?” Ratchet asked, voice straining, “Oh right, are you remembering the night you murdered Bumblebee?”

“Ratchet, you know I had no choice...”

“Hm, yes, I can see that. Well, you enjoy your sparkly office, and your new position. I’m busy dealing with bots that don’t murder their friends,” without another word, Ratchet shut the door and left. Optimus watched him go, optics darkening. It’d been like this, ever since his axe had sunk into the back of the mutated beetle’s helm and left him to die in the burning rubble. Ratchet and Bulkhead both believed the beetle could’ve been saved. Optimus disagreed. The look in the mutation’s optics told him all he needed to know. Whatever traces of Bumblebee had remained after the Decepticon’s brutal experimentation, it was gone, and Bumblebee deserved to be at peace. That, and his confession that he knew Bumblebee was being tested on by the Autobot’s that claimed to be helping to fix his damaged processor, had meant Optimus was now a traitor, something to be despised.

He gripped the desk in his servo, optics narrowing. He’d never meant to kill the beetle, he’d simply reacted on instinct. He’d never meant to leave his friend behind, but he had to save the innocents trapped inside the building first. He’d done nothing wrong! He’d just done what needed to be done...the beetle was beyond saving...

“I’LL DESTROY YOU, OPTIMUS!” Bumblebee’s voice screamed inside his processor as the mutation realized he was trapped in the blade, “I’LL BURN YOU, I’LL BURN EVERYTHING YOU VALUE, EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!” That was the last thing Optimus heard before the fire shut him off from the trapped scout, and he’d fled.

And to a point, the beetle already had. He was loved and respected by all Autobot’s, everyone, but the two he wished he was the closest to. He had everything...and yet nothing at the same time.

8888

“Trick or treat!” sparkling’s ran and giggled through the streets, dressed in varieties of costumes. Optimus watched as he walked, soothed by the excitement of the bot’s around him. Ratchet and Bulkhead might doubt him, but all the bots around him were alive, and safe, because of the decisions he’d made.

Optimus turned a corner, expecting it to be just like everywhere else. He froze. It...it...Oh Primus...

“Come sparkling’s of all ages, come and hear the terrifying tale, of the Yellow Demon!” Optimus couldn’t believe his optics. There, right infront of him, was a large painted picture of Bumblebee, exactly as he’d looked after his mutation. A mech, dressed in a black costume stood infront of it, clearly some kind of street entertainer. Sparklings and parents gathered around him, eager to hear the ‘tale’.

“There was a mech, his name, was Bumblebee,” the storyteller gave no sign that he’d seen Optimus as he started his story, “He’d been mutated, by the evil Decepticon’s to do their bidding, and eat Autobot’s! So, when they set him free, he roamed across the streets of Cybertron, looking for a bot to gobble up.” The sparklings around him squeaked and chirped in fear, captivated by the story none the less. The story, while based on truth, was completely wrong. He’d given the Council the true version after the event, and they’d thought it best to spread...a slightly easier to swallow version round in the media. An Autobot soldier who needed mental help, that had instead, been driven to insanity would never do in a time of loss. A story about a rogue Decepticon experiment who’d been slain by Optimus before he could destroy Cybertron was much more acceptable. There were many versions of the story however. Parents used him to scare their sparklings into eating all their food, or doing their choirs. Street entertainers like this one, simply used their own versions to make more money.

Optimus didn’t hear the rest of the story. He heard a loud gasp from behind him. Turning, he found Bulkhead, who he’d hardly seen since Bumblebee’s funeral. The green wrecked looked mortified. Optimus gave him a sympathetic, understanding look, trying to show Bulkhead that he didn’t find this easy to watch either, seeing their friend’s honour publicly degraded hurt him too. But the effect was lost at the story teller’s next words.

“Then, Optimus Prime, our heroic leader, swept in, and with a mighty swing of his axe, he destroyed the monster, saving the whole of Cybertron!”

Optimus winced a little at his description, glancing back over at Bulkhead. His optics narrowed into a dark, betrayed looking glare at his leader. Before Optimus could speak, the Wrecker stormed forwards, pushing Optimus out of his way.

“Hey kids, why don’t you sit with me, I’ll tell you much better stories about Bumblebee,” he said, trying to work enthusiasm into his voice.

“You knew the Yellow Demon?” one of the sparklings squeaked.

“I did, he was my best friend, come over here, I know some really cool stories about him,” instantly distracted, the swarm of sparklings charged after Bulkhead, leaving the entertainer creditless.

“Hey, you, that was my crowd! What’s your problem buddy?!” the mech snarled. Bulkhead merely glared back at him, before he plonked down to the ground, letting the sparklings sit and move closer to listen to his stories.

Sighing, Optimus handed some of his own credits to the mech, not wanting him to be too hard on the Wrecker, “Here, and next time, try and make story a little more accurate.”

The mech grinned, taking the credit’s gratefully, “I will do, thank you sir! You really are too kind.” The mech scuttled away. Before Optimus could leave too, he looked back at his once team-mate.

“Now Bumblebee, he was a really good friend,” Bulkhead told them, “He was really small too, the smallest bot I ever saw. But don’t let his size fool you, he had enough spirit to take on Starscream all by himself.”

“All by himself!” one of the sparkling gasped, optics wide, “If he was small, how did he survive?”

“Yeah, Starscream is so scary, he would’ve destroyed him!” another squeaked.

“You would think, but Bumblebee sure was quick, and brave,” he said, smiling a little, “He was the bravest bot I ever met.”

Optimus turned away. He didn’t want to hear anymore. Remembering the beetle before his transformation was painful enough, hearing stories of how they used to be, it would break his spark.

8888

Later than he wanted to, Optimus arrived at his destination. The burned rumble at the edge of the city that had buried Bumblebee. This day was about more than collecting sweets, or so Sari had once told him, it was the day where the veil between the living and the dead was thinnest, the perfect time to come and pay his respect to his two fallen comrades. First Bumblebee, then he’d move on to the cemetery to pay his respects to Prowl.

However, it appeared Optimus wasn’t the only one who’d had that idea.

“Oh kid...it shouldn’t be you under here, it really shouldn’t,” Ratchet looked down at the rubble as he set a small candle next on one of the larger pieces of rubble, a cube of high-grade in his other servo, “You were too young...far too young. You could’ve...should’ve done so much more. Grown old, found the one, had some sparklings, had some more sparklings, enjoyed yourself...and now you never will.”

Optimus kept himself back, not wanting to disturb the medic. If he moved over, Ratchet would be gone within seconds.

“And it’s our fault...” he took another gulp of the high-grade, wiping away the tears before they could fall, “We should’ve listened to you...stayed with you, helped you, anything...and I’m so sorry for that...I don’t know if you can even hear me now, or if you even want to...but kid, I really am sorry. If there’s one funeral I didn’t wanna go to...it was yours. I pray to Primus you’re at peace now...maybe with Prowl the aft that he is...and I hope you two are just like you always were. No...more than that...I hope you’re both happy...” The rest of the high-grade disappeared and he threw the cube to one side.

He laughed, half amused, half upset, “I remember, when you rearranged my equipment, back on Earth...all the stupid things you used to get up to with Sari. Primus, there were days when I wished I could beat sense into ya with a wrench...and there were days when I...I...I...” Ratchet stuttered off into silence, lowering his helm. A single tear escaped his optics, showing how badly the loss of their comrades had affected him, “I should’ve known something was wrong with you...I should’ve seen it...I’m so sorry Bumblebee...”

Optimus stepped forward, frowning, “Ratchet...it wasn’t your fault, no one could’ve known what would happen to him...” Ratchet instantly spun around at the sound of his voice, dark optics glaring at him.

“What in Pit are you doing here?!” Ratchet hissed, quickly wiping away the tear.

“I’m here to pay my respects to Bumblebee,” Optimus sighed, “Ratchet, listen-”

“No! For once you listen, you fragging murderer!” Ratchet snarled, “We could’ve saved Bumblebee! He was in there Prime, he just needed our help! We could’ve saved him, helped him, and you killed him. You abandoned him, left him to die. Not only that, we all should’ve helped him before any of this happened. If we’d just listened to him when he said he needed our help rather than just pushing him into that stupid mission he would still be here. So don’t you DARE tell me it wasn’t my fault, that it wasn’t your fault, it was our fault, ours!” He clenched his fist, hissing, “But we could’ve saved him...made it right...and you ruined it...you killed him. And you got what you wanted, we got nothing but pain.”

“Ratchet I...”

“Just...just don’t,” Ratchet growled, glaring at him, “Don’t even say a word. Nothing...nothing you could say would make this better.”

“But Ratchet-”

“NO! It’s too late Prime, it’s far too late!” he snarled.

“No, Ratchet, look!” Optimus snapped, pointing at the rubble on the left, “Ratchet it’s moving.” Ratchet whipped around, slightly unsure whether to believe the Prime or not.

“What do you mean it’s...” he trailed off as the rocks twitched, a few falling, as though something underneath was trying to worm its way out, “...Bumblebee!”

Ignoring the absolute absurdity of the situation, Ratchet dived for the moving rubble, pulling it away, “Bumblebee?! Are you there?” There was a few moments of nothing, just Ratchet desperately pulling away the rubble.

SMASH!

Without warning, something blasted itself out of the rubble. Whatever it was, it was big, big enough to knock Ratchet to his pedes. Optimus moved to help him up.

“Don’t touch me!” Ratchet snapped, getting up on his own, he looked over at the thing that’d emerged. It was covered in dust and burns, the paint job filthy, but recognisable anywhere. It was Bumblebee. Only Primus knew how he’d survived for a year without food and under all that rubble, but that didn’t matter, he was alive!

He was alive...

Memories of their last encounter was enough to make Optimus draw his own weapons. The insane laughter rang in his helm.

“I’LL DESTROY YOU OPTIMUS! I’LL BURN YOU, I’LL BURN EVERYTHING YOU VALUE, EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!”

He shock his helm, focusing on what was in front of him. Ignoring Ratchet’s snarl, telling him to drop his weapon.

Bumblebee looked...different. His optics where no longer lavender, but back to their familiar baby blue hue. And while he was still a mutation, he didn’t look half as threatening as he had the last time.

“Bumblebee, Bumblebee, it’s Okay, it’s me, it’s Ratchet,” Ratchet called, moving forward, “Bumblebee please, you remember me don’t you?” Ratchet was almost to the beetle before he bolted. His new, more powerful form meant Ratchet, maybe not even Blurr had a chance of catching him as he sprinted off into the distance.

“He’s alive...I don’t believe it...”

“He’s alive...”

“He’s alive...”

“Who’s alive, sir?”

Optimus jolted online. He was sitting at his desk, or rather slumped over his desk. He straightened up, looking over at Cliffjumper.

“Cliffjumper?”

“Sorry sir, I just wanted to ask if we could finish early, since it’s Halloween?” the minibot asked hopefully. Optimus just stared at him. Had it really all just been a dream?

“Y-Yes...yes of course...go have fun...”

“Thank you sir. You should get some sleep though, Prime, you look like you need it,” with that, he left. Optimus looked around. A dream...Bumblebee wasn’t online...he wasn’t...he was still gone, and he was still here.

Of course he was. Nothing would change now. Nothing would ever change. That was the way life worked. He’d betrayed the youngest of their team, and now...now he had no one.

Sighing, he put his helm in his servos. I’m sorry Bumblebee...I’m so sorry...

“Oh no, Prime,” a voice whispered in his audio, “You’re not sorry, not yet.” A clawed servo grabbed his neck, pushing him onto the desk. He looked up, optics wide, not daring to believe it.

Above him, the dented and burned mutated minibot stood before him, spark chamber wide open and...empty.

“No, you’re not sorry,” he leaned down, whispering softly, almost sweetly to him.

“But you will be.”