Bumblebee sat still on the repair table of the medbay, his arm held out ramrod straight as Ratchet repaired a few of the gashes and burn marks on the armor.  Beside him, curled up by the yellow thigh armor of the Camaro, the Sparkling of Optimus recharged peacefully, one tiny hand gripping the armor’s edge as if to make sure that Bumblebee wasn’t about to leave him.  The scout gently stroked the blue helm of his leader, unable to stop the smile that formed as the Sparkling clicked in his sleep

“You never explained why Optimus is a Sparkling,” Bumblebee said softly, not wanting to disturb Optimus but desiring an answer.

“The memory chips and circuitry were damaged in that warehouse fire,” Ratchet said, switching his tool out for another one.  Bumblebee hissed at the new assault on his sensors but didn’t interrupt.  “The files in the memory chips are corrupt, leaving Prime with the mind of a Sparkling.  That will repair itself over time, but it could be from days to weeks, maybe months.  The circuitry will have to be replaced and I don’t have enough of the required wires to do that, but I’ll be able to once Wheeljack touches down.  But for now, Optimus has been restricted to that body and his access to his normal form is restricted down to his memory chips.”

“But why are you restricting him like this?”

Ratchet pulled out a small bit of debris from Bumblebee’s arm with a bit of excessive force and ignored the yelp he got in return.  “Sparkling minds are curious, whether its something found on the ground or a stray code.  We do not need him to accidentally access his variety of weapons and destroy things when the usage of a protoform works easier with only minor modifications to allow Optimus control it by remote access.  Optimus is still around and observing, and while his authority has been suspend for the time being, he will not have to be caught back up when everything’s fixed.”

“Couldn’t you just disable his weapons?  I thought medics could do that.”

“Disable weapons, yes, but we can’t completely offline weapons of a Prime!  They need access to the weapons to defend themselves and others.  Especially Optimus since he carries the Matrix of Leadership.  Do you think you can reach Optimus in time to stop him from firing off one of his missles?!”  Ratchet was brandishing a welder in Bumblebee’s face, forcing the young mech back unless he wanted singed facial plates.  When Bumblebee didn’t say anything, Ratchet went back to work.

“Why me?” Bumblebee asked finally.  “I’m the youngest of the group.  Most of the crew had to take care of me.”

“He was asking for you.  His processes might not be developed, but it’s at the point where the only thing he would say was ‘Bee!  Bee!’  Then he began to put up a fuss until I gave him to you.  You’re going to be his main caregiver.  The rest of us will help out of we can.  Other arm.”

Bumblebee moved to let Ratchet work on his right arm but stopped at the slight weight it had.  Looking down, he saw blue optics flickering sleepily at him.  Carefully, almost afraid that he would hurt him, the scout picked Optimus up and cradled him against his chassis before holding out his right arm.  Optimus gave a few clicks and chirrups in thanks and curled up before going back to sleep.

“He’s not going to break,” Ratchet murmured as he treated a few abrasions.  “Sparkling frames are meant to take tumbles and bend.  He might not like the abruptness of the movement, but he’ll be fine.”

“Wh’the frag is goin’ on!?”

Bumblebee jerked back in surprise as the door slid open to permit Ironhide and Prowl, but Ratchet didn’t let his hand slip, though he did growl.  In Bumblebee’s arm, the Sparkling woke up and peered around curiously.  The small form froze when Ironhide peered closely at him and Bumblebee turned so that his body shielded Optimus from the loud Weapons Specialist’s optics when he heard a soft whimper.

“Why is B’mblebee holdin’ a Sparklin’?” Ironhide asked, turning his attention to Ratchet.

Prowl moved away from Ironhide, walking slowly as he came around the table and looked at Optimus, keeping his distance in case Optimus didn’t approve him.  To everyone’s surprise, Optimus reached for the tactician, happy clicks leaving him.  Bewildered, Prowl picked Optimus up and held him as he barely paid attention to what Ratchet was tell Ironhide, optics wide as small blue hands reached up and touched his helm.

“THAT’S OPTIMUS!?”

The small form jerked back and there was an astrosecond for Bumblebee to think Oh frag! before Optimus wailed loudly, twisting in Prowl’s arms and reaching for the yellow scout.  Bumblebee quickly took the leader into his arms and hopped down from the repair table, excusing himself even though Ratchet was yelling at Ironhide and Prowl just stared at him in shock.

The door slid shut and Bumblebee could no longer hear Ironhide getting dressed down by the CMO.  Optimus’s crying had tapered off a small bit but he was still expressing his surprise by whimpering and nuzzling his head against Bumblebee’s chassis.  Bumblebee murmured soothingly to Optimus, reverting back to the clicks and chirps he used when his vocalizer was damaged.

The door to the rec room opened and Bumblebee went in, grabbed a cube of energon, and sat down on the ‘Bot sized couch.  The day itself already felt long and it barely past eight in the evening.  When he was about to take a drink, Optimus grabbed onto his hand, trying to pull the cube toward him.

“This isn’t for you, little one,” Bumblebee said, pulling it away and taking a sip.  “You’re systems aren’t meant to handle energon like this.”  The Sparkling gave Bumblebee an injured looked and the scout shook his head.  “That’s not going to work.  I know Ratchet fed you before he gave you to me.”  A soft sound that left Optimus’s air intakes sounded suspiciously like sniffling and big blue optics stared up at Bumblebee, the Sparkling’s bottom lip trembling slighty.

“…I’m never going to live this down,” Bumblebee muttered as set the cube down on a stable surface.  Dipping one finger into the liquid, he brought it back to Optimus and wasn’t surprised when two small hands grabbed his own and brought it closer.  Bumblebee’s palm rested on the small chest of the Sparkling, heat from the frame warming his hand as Optimus sucked the forbidden treat from his fingertip.

This was repeated a few more times, Bumblebee sneaking in drinks when he wasn’t letting the Sparkling of Optimus get away with energon that would keep his systems up.  But eventually, the Sparkling’s optics offline and he laid in Bumblebee’s arms, his tiny hands keeping a grip on Bumblebee.

Slowly, Bumblebee stood up and made his way to his own room, unwilling to give up the tiny leader to anyone for the night.  The door admitted him to the dark room and the scout didn’t bother with turning on the lights, the glow from his own optics giving enough illumination for him.  He laid down on his recharge berth and shifted around so that Optimus was between him and the wall.  Bumblebee set his systems to wake him at any movement that was more than a shift in sleep to wake him and offline his optics, letting his hands stroke the blue metal of the tiny head.

oOo

Something was after him.  Something large that filled everything with darkness and cold.  Cruel words whispered to him, plants seeds of doubt in his mind and chilling his Spark.

You can never get away from me, it said.  I will take everything you hold dear.  Starting with the smallest.

No!  He can’t be taken!  The Spark held in the frame of yellow wires and plating deserved to live!

oOo

When he woke up, it was still dark, barely four hours after falling into recharge, but something had woken him.  Optimus was still curled up against his chassis so it wasn’t due to movement, but soft whimpers were leaving him, his hands trembling and grasping his armor loosely.  Bumblebee jerked up when Optimus gave a sharp cry and he picked up the tiny mech, all of his system running at full speed when the Sparkling continued to cry, not waking up from recharge.

Getting to his feet, he began to pace the room, cooing and trying to sooth the Sparkling as he accessed every file he had on the care of Sparklings, eventually resorting to looking up techniques humans used with their own young.  Finding nothing completely helpful, Bumblebee settled on singing softly, not using his radio like he did around Sam but with his own vocalizer, producing songs that were an odd mixture of English and Cybertronian.

Unable to stay in his own room, Bumblebee walked out into the halls, still singing to Optimus whose cries tapered down to soft hiccups, his bright optics peering around worriedly.  Not knowing where to go, Bumblebee headed for Optimus’s office, hoping that maybe the area would be a bit more recognizable and soothing to the Sparkling.

The door opened readily and the lights were brought up to a level easy on the optics.  He walked around the large desk and sat on the chair behind, smiling at how his feet actually dangled off of the floor by a few feet.  It felt odd for him to be setting in a chair designed for Optimus Prime’s height while Optimus himself was sitting on his lap with his own tiny feet dangling over Bumblebee’s knees.

The Sparkling reached forward to one of the desk drawers, opening the space and rummaging around in for a moment before pulling something out.  Bumblebee was ready to snatch a datapad away if need called for it but his optics flickered when he recognized a gamechip in the blue hands.

Optimus immediately activated it and Bumblebee just watched him play it, leaning back in the chair and occasionally pointing something out in the game or whisper hints to the Sparkling.  Every time Bumblebee did this, Optimus would turn around and give him a questioning look only to take Bumblebee’s words of advice.  The game was an advance one, a game that gave the scout trouble when he played it as a Youngling, but Bumblebee wasn’t sure if Optimus was smart when he was so young or if he was pulling from a memory that wasn’t corrupt.

Optimus got stuck on one part of the game and he tried many ways to continue on before he turned around and handed it to Bumblebee.  Bumblebee took the game and started to play it, shifting his arms to make room for Optimus as the Sparkling moved back and snuggled up against his chassis, his optics watching the game.

It was only a few minutes until Bumblebee realized that Optimus had fallen into recharge.  Quietly, the scout turned off the game and carried Optimus across the room to a doorway.  The door opened, revealing a undecorated room with a few datapads on the floor and a large recharge berth against one wall.  Once again, Bumblebee laid down on the berth and place Optimus between himself and the wall.  Optimus moved closer to Bumblebee, instinctively seeking out the warmth the scout’s Spark put out, and they both slipped into recharge without a fight.