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Becoming Mama Bear	By : Breech_Loader Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Het - M/F Views: 8539 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Becoming Mama Bear
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651
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Harley: Of course the cry was Bumblebee. You didn’t think he’d get away without nightmares, did you? Or that we’d forget him so soon? The whole story is taking a different tack now that the pairing is decided.
Froggy: Of course, the main concentration for a bit will be Prowl/Hotwire. But don’t worry. Bumblebee is most certainly not forgotten. He’ll be doing something awfully dumb and important in a few chapters time, and the whole story will kick up a notch.
Harley: In the meantime... this is Transformers Animated! In NC-17!
~~~
Chapter Fourteen: Pain-Job
Pure, unrelenting terror gripped Bumblebee, with the only slight respite being the fact that he now knew he had awakened from a nightmare. But the horrible images remained, along with all the emotional baggage that went with it. The only thing he could do about it was scream. So he did.
The scream rang through the base. Optimus was the first mech to arrive at Bumblebee's room, followed by Bulkhead and Ratchet. Prowl and Hotwire were the last to get there, with Hotwire trying to see past the taller mechs in her way.
"What's wrong? What's going on?" she called out.
Optimus ignored her and stepped towards Bumblebee carefully, "Are you alright there, Bumblebee?" he asked the trembling yellow mech.
The ashamed mech hid his face from his friends to keep them from seeing the horror on his face. All the while, he could not get the image of Starscream out of his mind, "It's nothing... Go away..." he whispered.
Optimus leant forward, "Are you sure it's nothing, Bumblebee?" he asked the once yellow Autobot.
For a moment, Bumblebee said nothing. Then, carefully, he peeked his optics out, watching Hotwire carefully. His expression told her everything she needed to know. To Optimus, he said, "J-just a bad dream... Really..."
Hotwire had by now finally managed to push her way to the front of the group and sat down next to Bumblebee, "So you had another nightmare, huh?" she asked, placing one hand on his shoulder, then continued, "Well don't worry. You're not at the Decepticon base, you're with your friends now, and you'll never have to go back there." She remembered well that Bumblebee hadn't wanted to say anything about his treatment, and 'confidential' was her middle name. Well, technically Hotwire was her first, middle and last name, but still...
Bumblebee didn't think when he suddenly moved forward to wrap his arms around Hotwire in a desperate embrace, seeking comfort from the one person who had been kind to him through that whole living nightmare.
Hotwire just patted him on his back gently, waiting for the other mechs to leave. When she didn't hear them going, she turned her head and glared, "Didn't you hear him?" she asked, "It was just a nightmare. You can all get back to recharge now."
Bulkhead left uncertainly, followed by a grumbling Ratchet. Optimus hesitated, watching the surprising development, "You know, Bumblebee," he said, "If you want to talk to me about something - anything at all - you're free to do so. If you want to."
Bumblebee nodded quietly with a little hum of acceptance, but it was clear that he didn't want to talk to his comrades at that time. All the while, though, Prowl marvelled at the way Hotwire comforted the younger mech; protected him. It reminded him of one of Earth's many species he had studied, like a mother bear protecting her cub. For all her talk of terrible acts, Hotwire was capable of great gentleness and kindness.
Optimus stepped back, before repeating to Bumblebee, "You can talk to me. If you want," Then he walked away, looking back several times, concerned.
Hotwire looked up at Prowl, now the only mech there, "Well?" she asked. When Prowl just stood there, she turned back to Bumblebee and cuddled him, "It's gonna be okay," she told him, ignoring Prowl, "We'll go out tomorrow to a garage and get you a yellow paint-job. We'll even get you your racing stripes back, how about that?"
"...I like racing stripes,” Bumblebee finally said, having regained a degree of self-control. The lingering terror was still there, but it was held at bay mostly by Hotwire's presence.
Prowl, knowing when he wasn't welcome, slowly stepped back. "I'll be around if you need me,” he said before turning and leaving the two of them alone.
"Your friends are good people," Hotwire told Bumblebee, "And don't you worry about those red optics either. I'll get nice blue Autobot optics on order straight away. And before you know it, you're going to be back to your old, young, happy, yellow, blue-eyed, Autobot self."
~~~
Hotwire leant against a wall, "Why'd Prime have to send you out with me again?" she complained at Prowl. They were currently standing outside a garage, while inside Bumblebee was getting a repaint and racing stripes over his currently red armour. Sari was hanging around with Bulkhead, since this was going to take a couple of hours, "I don't need an escort; I can take care of myself."
"Again, it's not about protecting you,” Prowl pointed out patiently, crossing his arms over his chassis, "It's about protecting others from you. ...Not that I think you're going to try anything." He gave her the slightest hint of a smirk, just a little sign that he didn't entirely consider her hostile anymore.
"I consider that an insult to my alignment," Hotwire stated bluntly, "Still, why is it always you? I mean, at least you're not Ratchet, but how about Prime giving me some keeper who doesn't make me feel..." she tapped the side of her head, "What's the word... incompetent... ineffectual... Inadequate, that's the one," she glared again.
Prowl sighed quietly before giving her the answer, "Because I'm reliable,” he explained.
"Humph," Hotwire looked up vaguely, "Well, you are reliable, I'll give you that. You haven't told anybody about the Screwdriver Incident," a glare of mistrust added the word 'yet' to her sentence.
"And as long as you don't go leaking energon all over the carpet, it'll stay that way,” Prowl told her with a hint of dark humour, "Although I still don't understand why you need to. You have so much talent as a healer. Look at how much you've helped Bumblebee."
"Yes, well, anybody with the slightest nugget of sanity-" Hotwire's sentence was cut off by an explosion across the street, as a small missile blew up a computer shop. The backlash and surprise of the explosion knocked both Hotwire and Prowl onto their backs.
"Citizens!" a young, female voice cried out, somewhere above them, "I, Professor Princess, have returned to protect you from these nasty and mean murder simulators!"
Prowl turned his fall into a backflip, and looked up irritably at the demented human child. "Combat simulators pose no threat to anybody. That's their purpose,” he called out to the female, trying to reason with her, "You however, certainly are a threat, and I imagine your designers are to blame!"
"No!" Professor Princess cried out, "It's all the nasty Rockstars and horrible boy’s toys! Violent video games make people do horrible things! I, Professor Princess, Ph D, shall rid the world of you horrible robots that have come to the planet and started breaking things!"
"You may have acquired a Ph D, small organic, but you seem to have missed the irony of blowing things up to bring peace to the world," Hotwire commented dryly, standing up.
"And I'll start with YOU!" Professor Princess shrieked, "Powdered Sugar, Rainbow Blast!" The horn on her flying unicorn started to glow.
Rolling up into a crouch, Prowl wasted no time in drawing a shuriken and skilfully throwing it towards the unicorn's horn, carefully aiming to avoid striking the human. Demented she may have been, but he didn't want to kill her, and humans could be such fragile creatures.
The flying unicorn fired a shot off, and Hotwire threw herself under it, barely dodging. Another blast hit a car, and sent it straight into her as she started to get up, sending them both into the already demolished shop. Hotwire crawled out of the blazing mess, before slumping to the cement.
Almost at the same time, Professor Princess managed to dodge Prowl’s shruiken, "I've faced you horrible robots before!" she cried out triumphantly, "And now that mean toy is dealt with, I'll fix YOU!" she pointed a glowing wand at Prowl, "Powdered Sugar, CHARGE!" The flying unicorn swooped towards Prowl.
Prowl, suddenly angered by the child's unprovoked attack on Hotwire, rushed forward and leapt, aiming to fly over the unicorn and grab it by the tail. Then maybe he could use the ridiculously cute weapon against its user. Professor Princess wasn't the only one who could play with dangerous toys.
"All bad computer games and evil toys should be banned! I will discontinue you all!" the child screamed.
Hotwire smiled from her position on the cement as a cyber-pistol slid into her hand. Professor Princess' toy Powdered Sugar fired a blast at Prowl, and he was sent through the window of a shop behind him, That's what comes from acting without thinking, he thought, I really should know better...
"Now I will save the world from all of you!" Professor Princess aimed her wand again.
"The world may need saving, but it's not endangered by Autobots," Hotwire had returned to her feet. A blast of her cyber-pistol hit Powdered Sugar. Fluff and circuitry scattered over the road, and Hotwire caught the small human on the way down, "It will be all the safer with nutjobs like you off the street, that's for sure," she commented at the struggling child held between thumb and forefinger.
Crawling through broken glass, Prowl glanced up and smirked at Hotwire, impressed by her quick and efficient acting job, and relieved that she hadn’t been badly hurt by the blast, "Nice work,” he said, getting to his feet, "You played your part in the plan perfectly."
"What plan?" Hotwire smiled dryly up at him, "I do believe you were taken in as much as the small human. You looked really worried there for a moment."
Prowl stood up and brushed himself off, "Without immobilising the small human, I couldn’t have helped you," he said confidently, "And you weren’t badly hurt anyway. I guessed that you planned to take her by surprise. I merely added a distraction to the mix."
Hotwire nodded, "Maybe having you as an escort isn't quite as bad as I first thought," she smiled again.
"Aww..." Professor Princess squealed, clasping her hands, "That's so cute!" The two robots had for a moment forgotten she was there, "I just know you two belong together!"
Prowl swiftly frowned at the child still dangling from Hotwire's fingertips. Pointing at her, he said, "You should know better than to go around blowing things up simply because you disagree with them. You're malfunctioning, and you need professional reprogramming."
"It's a shame she's organic," Hotwire said, listening to the sirens approaching, "I could probably do it here in about twenty minutes. As it is..." she raised Professor Princess to optic level, "You'll just have to go with the local law-enforcement agents."
"But you're in love!" Professor Princess said, "Big nasty robots in love - that will make everything better, and I can help you both to-"
"Prowl's right, you do need reprogramming," Hotwire interrupted, watching the cars round the corner. She held the small child with distaste, the way a human might hold a used tampon.
Prowl sighed, sure to be happy when the child would finally be taken away. She was more of a pain than he felt equipped to handle right now, and he really didn't approve of her sudden shift to amateur matchmaker. Sometime, he really needed to have some sort of investigation into where she got those dangerous toys...
The police cars skidded to a halt, and Professor Princess was promptly escorted away, "But I can help you!" she wailed banging on the window, "You're in love!"
"Tell the love salesman I've had enough of his slag to last me a few million more stellar cycles," Hotwire said, and turned back to Prowl as Professor Princess was driven away, throwing a tantrum in the back of the police car, "What were we talking about before the maniac interrupted?" she asked him with a slight smile.
"Your self-destructive tendencies,” Prowl smoothly replied, "But I take it back."
"Why?" Hotwire asked, "What's to say I wasn't aiming for the organic?"
Prowl suddenly looked disturbed and off-balanced by her question, "Were you? I assumed you valued organic life just as much as cybernetic."
"Well, I wasn't really, or I wouldn't have bothered catching her," Hotwire said, suitably abashed, "But that doesn't make me an Autobot!" she added quickly.
Prowl genuinely smiled at this, finding her discomfort strangely adorable, considering the circumstances. "The Autobots don't have a monopoly on good deeds,” he pointed out quietly.
"The main difference being that you don't charge for it," Hotwire replied, then paused, "Not that I did... but I'm still Neutral!" she insisted, pointing at the purple Autobot symbol on her chassis, "You Autobots are always going on about how you believe in nobility and honour, which is especially stupid when you're apparently the only ones who do."
Prowl got the feeling that this insult was more an attempt by Hotwire to get out of the metaphorical corner she'd backed herself into, "Humph, and yet you just displayed a certain amount of it yourself,” he pointed out, "Being neutral doesn't mean you can't agree with the qualities of a certain side from time to time. And I don't even understand why you feel a need to explain yourself to me. I'm not even a soldier. I'm an Autobot, because I was custom built that way."
Hotwire turned away from him to stare at a wall, thinking about this, "Well, I wasn't built to be an Autobot," she said, turning back around, "I wasn't built to be a medic, either," she admitted, "Most medics come with EMPs and magnets. I come with these," she held up the cyberpistols again, before they retracted.
"Odd choice of weapons. I'd attribute them to gunfighters, mercenaries, or perhaps an eccentric law enforcer,” Prowl told her, "You're a neutral medic who came equipped to be a fighter. At the moment, you defy classification."
Hotwire briefly considered telling Prowl that she'd been created as a one-off by an Autobot and a Decepticon, then decided against it, "If there was such a team as the Deceptibots, or the Autocons, existing would be so much easier," she said, watching as the mess the short fight had made was cleared up by automabots, "One small organic sure can make a mess," she said, trying to change the subject.
Prowl glanced over the devastation that the little girl had unleashed in her misguided attempt to help people. "It's always easier to destroy than to create,” he pointed out.
"Too much easier," Hotwire said quietly. She was silent for a moment, then spoke again, "Prowl... I'd just like to say-"
"Hotwire! Prowl!" a young voice cried out behind them, "I'm yellow again!" Bumblebee cried out, elated, “Look at my racing stripes!”
Prowl glanced over his shoulder at the now-yellow Autobot, giving him a slight smile. "Good as new. You'll be back to annoying me with your music and hyperactive attitude in no time." Turning back to Hotwire, he asked, "What did you want to say?"
"Nothing, nothing," Hotwire said quickly, then looked at Bumblebee, complete with racing stripes, smiling, "I told you that you'd be just like your old self real soon," she said, noting that his optics were still red, "And those blue optics are already on order, so then you'll be perfect again."
"Awesome!" the young Autobot enthusiastically shouted before transforming into vehicle mode and promptly burning a rubber donut onto the concrete in celebration, "I feel better already!"
"I knew you would," Hotwire stated, giving Prowl a thumbs up to the side. She just hoped the paint-job might help with Bumblebee's nightmares. Since he looked almost exactly the way he had before being brought in, this was likely, especially considering his joyful mood right now.
"Yeah!" Bumblebee called out, coming to a stop and revving his engine, "If you'll excuse me, I've got some pavement to tear up!" The Autobot took off with a loud screech of his wheels, racing out of the building onto the city streets.
Prowl watched him go, "It's good to see him in such good spirits again," he said softly.
Hotwire nodded, "He's gone through a lot," she agreed, "But perhaps it's time to head on back to your base?" she transformed. A sleek supermoto sat on the road. It was designed for twists, turns, jumps, and off-road travel. The rider’s skill was more important than the speed of the bike.
Transforming into his own vehicle mode, Prowl pulled up beside her, a holographic human figure appearing in the seat to allow him to blend in better... which wasn't really necessary now, but had become a habit of his. "After you,” he said.
Hotwire had no holograph, lacking a projector. She started her engine and drove off, "I hope Bumblebee is going to be okay," she told Prowl, "I mean, I've repaired the prisoners of Decepticons before, and it gets pretty ugly... but even compared to them, Bumblebee's been through a lot."
"He's young. He'll bounce back,” the ninja assured her, pulling into the lane beside her, "Bumblebee is tougher than he looks."
"I hope so..." Hotwire murmured. Somewhere ahead of them, Bumblebee was joyfully speeding through the streets. He sounded happier than he had done in quite some time.
~~~
Harley: Sorry about calling Hotwire a supermoto, but despite the sound of it, it’s a perfectly normal type of motorbike. It’s like a crossover between motocross and road-racing bikes. There’s nothing particularly ‘super’ about it.
Froggy: If you want to know the full reason for Hotwire’s long term depression right now, read “The Choices We Make”, which is by Harley. It’s been up for ages anyway. Of course, you’d find it out anyway sometime along but it reads much better in the separate story. It isn’t really a spoiler.
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Becoming Mama Bear