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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.

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Becoming Mama Bear

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

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Harley: This chapter was designed to be extremely emotional. No sex though. And please remember to review. Please?

Froggy: This is mostly a Prowl/Hotwire chapter, but it’s necessary to lead up to the point. By next chapter, Bumblebee may not always be the star, but he’ll be a major focus.

Harley: There’s some very sweet stuff planned, and some ‘by moonlight’ stuff, and some stuff that’s been done because I don’t believe in selling my fanfics short just because something’s already been done... and some very, very nasty stuff.

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Chapter Fifteen: One Touch

It was late, and a clear night once again. Not that the clarity mattered; Hotwire would have enjoyed staring at the endlessness of space if it was completely obscured by clouds. She'd talked with Bumblebee, checking how he was doing, and had been congratulated by Prime briefly for helping Prowl to stop 'Professor Princess'. Appreciation was nice – Megatron never noticed when she did anything right, only when she got something wrong. But it was always good to stare into the endless void and imagine how easy it would be to lose yourself in it. She stepped onto the roof, and saw Prowl meditating in the lotus position.

Prowl heard the light footsteps and knew that it was Hotwire approaching. Opening his optics slowly, his back still turned to her, he spoke, "Hello, Hotwire. Coming to look at the stars again?"

"What else is there to look at up here?" Hotwire asked, "I assumed there would be nobody else up here though. I thought you preferred organic life." She sat down, about a foot of space between them, and looked up, hugging her knees again.

"Just because I like the organic life on Earth doesn't mean that I dislike everything that isn’t,” Prowl pointed out without reacting as she sat down beside him.

Good answer, Hotwire considered, still looking up, "Humans don't understand space," she said finally, "They think it's all, like wow, a star, and a few miles on, there's another star. They get it from intergalactic movies. They don't understand how big it is. Or how much of space is so totally... completely... endlessly... empty."

Finally, Prowl nodded slightly, "There's so much empty space in the universe that it makes the small amount of matter that does exist seem meaningless."

"But you have to find meaning somewhere," Hotwire pointed out, not looking at him, "Otherwise, what's the point of anything at all?"

Prowl seemed to consider this for a moment, frowning before turning his head to look at the medic, "In my training, I was taught that we don't have to find meaning. In fact, that craving for meaning is something that will only bring us torment. All we have to do is be."

Hotwire paused for a moment, then looked at Prowl, "Listen, Prowl..." she said hesitantly, "Today, just before Bumblebee interrupted... well, I was going to say... that I'm sorry," Prowl blinked, "I mean, I've insulted you at every opportunity, and you've just been polite. I've been feeling a bit... tense, lately... but that's really no excuse." She returned her attention to the stars again, quickly.

Prowl blinked again, surprised by this, thinking that Hotwire didn't have an apology within her chassis – even a private one, "...It's alright. You haven't hurt my feelings, if that's what you're worried about,” the Autobot assured her.

"Well, I didn't think I had," Hotwire answered, "Otherwise there might have been some point to it. But I was just wasting my energy on being rude when I could have been doing something more productive."

“Like what?” Prowl asked, curious to know her response.

“I don’t know...” Hotwire shrugged, “Challenging Megatron to a duel? Stabbing Starscream in the optic? Putting another tear in my armour?” she glanced at her right forearm, “Most everything is more productive than insulting somebody who takes it all in his stride.”

Prowl nodded quietly, partially agreeing with what Hotwire was saying. "True. There are better things to do,” he told her, "But I think there are more productive things than destruction and death."

"You say that like you need to persuade me," Hotwire said calmly. She looked up at the sky, at a 'shooting star'. Some humans believed that if you made a wish on a lump of rock burning up as it hurtled through the atmosphere, it would come true. Humans were so strange. Still, there was no harm in wishing... I wish I could find somebody who understands... She glanced at Prowl again, "Got any suggestions?"

Prowl shrugged, "As a medic, it's your job to keep people online. That's a worthy pursuit. You just have to remind yourself of that and not let it turn into just another job."

Hotwire smiled wryly, "I thought you were the one who said there was no meaning in the universe; that it was better to just 'be'," she said, "Or is it different for cyberninjas?"

Prowl just smiled back at her, "The thing you'll come to learn about cyberninja wisdom is that it's frequently contradictory."

"Look at it this way," Hotwire returned, who found she liked the smile, "Either there is meaning in the universe, or there isn't. I try..." she paused, "I'm trying..." she started again, "I've done bad things, and I try to make up for them by doing the right thing. That way I find meaning for my existence. 'Meaning' is a subjective term, so... if you want, you can find meaning in anything."

Prowl's smile didn't leave, and the Autobot reached over to place his hand on Hotwire's shoulder, "Yes, you can,” he replied, "And I think you're doing a far better job and are worth much more than you believe." He felt the tenseness return, and although Hotwire's expression and position didn't budge an inch, she was, in a way, ready for any attack he might make. Obviously she hadn't received much praise or gentle touches from the Decepticons, but he'd never actually hurt her, so why did she still have a problem with it here? The smile that Hotwire liked disappeared, replaced by concern, "I'm not going to damage you,” he assured her quietly and calmly, his optics fixed on her face, "You know that, right?"

"I know," Hotwire admitted, "It's just that... the people who get close to me always seem to end up getting hurt. Or I hurt them."

"You won't hurt me,” Prowl told her, letting his hand stay this time, "At first, I thought you might try... but now I know you won’t. You're not an enemy. It wouldn't be right to call you an ally just yet... but you are a friend."

Hotwire hesitated. Habit was a hard thing to break, "A friend?" she asked him, "You say that now... but what about tomorrow? And all the tomorrows afterwards? If I let my guard down... people get hurt. In all sorts of ways..." she looked down.

"Don't worry about all that,” Prowl spoke reassuringly, "Fear is the thing which enslaves us. You don't want that. And I trust you enough to stand by my words."

"I'm not afraid of anything," Hotwire insisted, shaking off his hand and standing up again, her arms wrapped around her chassis as she looked up at the stars.

Prowl, still sitting, looked up at the femme. Her body language said something very different to what her vocal circuits did, "Everyone's afraid of something,” he told her softly.

"Not me," Hotwire said, but the way she avoided looking at him said otherwise, "Why would there be anything I'm afraid of? I’ve been alone all my life. I've worked on battlefields with missiles exploding overhead. I've fallen 250 feet into a car-compactor. I've looked down the barrel of a fusion cannon and prepared to die. How can there be anything, anywhere, that can scare me now?"

Prowl considered how to approach this. Hotwire didn't want to admit to what she perceived as a weakness; that much was clear. But there were other things to be afraid of; things that had nothing to do with physical danger, "You tell me,” he said quietly.

Another pause. Hotwire still wasn't certain that she trusted Prowl enough to go into detail. But then, if she stayed here, he'd find out sooner or later anyway, "I'm afraid... that I'll be offlined before I can fully atone for what I’ve done," she said quietly.

"You need not worry about that,” Prowl replied, getting to his feet, "Atonement is not something that can be measured. It doesn’t involve numbers. There is not some goal you must achieve. It's much more simple than that."

"How is it simple?" Hotwire asked sharply, spinning to face him, her plait twitching and her blue visor shining in the moonlight, “Tell me that, Prowl! Tell me how anything is simple!”

It was almost impossible for Prowl to interpret her true emotions under that visor. Perhaps that was why she wore it all the time. It was a barrier in the way. A mask with which Hotwire hid her true feelings from the rest of the world, “First I need to see your face,” he told her gently.

Now there really was a visible change in her stance – a shift to defensive. Hotwire hesitated. Trust was so dangerous. But... maybe this once? Prowl was gentle, brave and honourable - three character traits she really admired in a mech. Of course, he'd said he trusted her - meaningless words - but it seemed he cared. Enough to try and stop her hurting herself. Enough to be worried about her in the street battle. Enough to tell her, in that voice that was so hard to disbelieve, that she was worth more than she thought. It was best that they decide what was the truth and what was a lie right now, rather than later. She turned her face away from him, and raised her hands to her blue visor. There was a soft *click*, and she pushed it up into her helmet. Then she turned back to face him.

She had green optics. But they were just a small accessory to the appalling scars that covered the upper half of her face. To say, 'It's not that bad' would actually be insulting, owing to the extent and severity of them. They made her face look as if it had been torn open with a claw hammer, and welded back together again. Badly, "Still think I'm worth more than I believe?" she asked Prowl bitterly.

Prowl reached out to touch the ugly scars that mutilated Hotwire’s face. They made what should have been soft, pliable metal feel rough and hard to the touch. He could not deny that they shocked him. But more importantly, he could see how such a disfigurement could be such a source of pain, "...Yes,” he said calmly, looking straight into her green optics.

"You're just saying that to look like the better mech by doling out pity," Hotwire said, pulling away quickly, "I detest pity."

Prowl frowned and shook his head, again staring at her with his seemingly unshakable calm, "I do not pity you,” the mech explained, "Why should I? Those scars are superficial damage only. They don’t change who you are inside."

Hotwire paused for a moment, almost ready to believe him. Then, "What do you know about me?" she asked resentfully, reaching up to pull the visor down again.

With lightening reflexes, Prowl reached out and caught her wrist before she could do so, "I know you are kind, intelligent, and selfless in your desire to help others, even when they disagree with your methods,” he said, "You're opinionated, strong-willed... and very lonely. You're afraid that no one will ever truly accept you for who you are, and if someone did, that you don't deserve it. You feel lost in this world, with no family to call your own and no side which stands for what you believe in."

Hotwire had frozen at Prowl’s touch and raised her fist to lash out at him, but as he spoke, she listened. There was a long silence, and green optics locked with a blue visor, "How do you know about me?" she whispered.

"I've listened to you,” Prowl said softly, "Something I doubt few have. You try to crush your emotions and beliefs under an impassive mask, but I’ve seen the sensitivity and strength of character that hides beneath it. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

"You... listened?” Hotwire asked. Then the hard look returned, “No,” she looked at Prowl’s grip on her wrist, and pulled away, “People say that I must pick a side; that I must join their team; that I can’t keep sitting on the kerb. You know what I say? Track or turf; it’s all just dirt underneath.” She stared up at the half-moon, her arms hugging her chassis again.

"And you're right about that,” Prowl replied, "I'm not an Autobot because of programming alone. But the Decepticons have threatened my friends and hurt the world I have come to know as home. That's what matters to me in this fight."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Hotwire asked him distantly, "That I should become an Autobot because Decepticons are jerks? Autobots aren't all shining examples of lovable personalities either."

"And I didn't say they were. I was just explaining my own reasons,” the cop-bike replied, "You are your own person, and I would not dare to change that about you."

"I can't see why," Hotwire muttered, "I'd sure like to be able to change. Primus knows I've tried..."

Prowl frowned, tilting his head slightly. "...Why?" he asked sincerely.

"You have such a clear definition of what is right and what is wrong,” Hotwire explained, “I repair 'cons; I know they're going to kill 'bots. I repair 'bots; I can't stop thinking about the 'cons who offline without a medic. No matter how hard I try to do the right thing, I always feel like I'm wrong."

"Why?" Prowl asked her. It sounded like a horrible way to think.

"Because I was programmed that way," Hotwire said helplessly.

"No,” Prowl denied, "It's because you're a good person. You're someone who is above taking sides. You try to help where you can, and you leave the rest to fate. I admire that." The cyberninja stepped closer to her, looking down into her green optics.

"But I'm not," Hotwire insisted again, not backing up, looking at Prowl, "You don't know the things I've done!"

"I would if you could tell me,” Prowl shook his head. He looked away, at Detroit’s skyline, and the organic world beyond, "What is it going to take to convince you that I’m trustworthy?" The black and gold mech really did seem to believe in her; thought that she was a good person worthy of companionship. It was something new to her.

Hotwire turned her back on him and looked up at the stars, You just made a wish, and it's trying to come true, she thought, But you still have to let it come true... "I shouldn't be taking it out on you," she said finally, "It's just hard to trust, that's all."

"I understand,” Prowl said quietly, "I doubt you've ever had reason to trust. I don't mean to push you..."

"I know," Hotwire said. She didn't turn around, but just looked up at the stars for a while, "All my life..." she said finally, "I've been searching for somebody like me. I've searched battlefields. I've copied databases of mechs. Autobot, Decepticon, functioning or not. Anybody, just so I can stop feeling like I'm totally alone. You know, when I first met Blackarachnia on the Nemesis, I really thought I'd found that person? Split down the middle, she was a freak, she'd have done anything to be normal, and she was lonely. She even had similar abilities. I was so sure..."

Prowl looked at Hotwire curiously, "You knew Blackarachnia?" He could certainly see certain similarities between them. But he'd never had the impression that Hotwire had joined the Decepticons out of any kind of loyalty to one of them... more a lack of anywhere else to go.

"Yeah," Hotwire answered, "We'd both have done anything to be normal. But then it turned out that her definition of 'anything' was different to mine. Very different. So, it ended up that I felt more than ever as if I was never going to find anybody."

Prowl nodded slowly, "You have limits. She doesn't,” he said, "In that, you show a great strength of character. That's why I'm drawn to you."

Hotwire turned abruptly, "You what?" she asked him.

"I... well..." Prowl began, finding that his wording may have been more direct than he intended, "I like you, Hotwire. Others see you as a threat or an outcast, but I just see someone with a different point of view. I find that so... refreshing."

"You are... different to other Autobots," Hotwire admitted, testing the sentence in her head, "They're always throwing their good guy crap at anybody who gets in range... but you don't do that," she said.

"Why should I?" Prowl responded simply, "You're not on the side of the enemy. You're not on anyone's side. It's not my place to judge you."

"That's new too," Hotwire answered, taking a cautious step towards Prowl, "Most of the time I'm judged before I can even open my mouth. Just on this," she tapped the purple Autobot symbol on her chassis, "Ever felt... like you've got this huge hole inside of you where your spark should be?" she asked him.

He glanced down at her sympathetically, confronted with her question, "I've had that feeling before, yes. A long time ago,” he admitted.

"When?" Hotwire asked, curious, "And why?" she paused, "If you don't mind me asking."

The mech seemed to look right through her as he glanced back into his own past, "It was... about a million stellar cycles ago. I had just dropped out of cyberninja training. I had no friends or allies to speak of. I had no cause to fight, no great goal to pursue. I felt empty inside. Alone. I think it was the worst point in my life..."

"Then... maybe you can understand..." For a moment Hotwire’s face looked hopeful in the moonlight, "Can you?" she asked, sounding uncertain again.

Prowl watched her carefully before reaching over, his fingertips brushing against her scarred cheek, "Yes,” he answered, "I can understand." He expected her to become rigid again, and for a moment she did... but then it faded.

Hotwire shivered at the touch, her fists clenching, "When I realised I'd never find anybody like me... I just wanted somebody to understand... but I couldn't find them. And I looked so hard..."

Prowl didn't fully understand the warmth he felt under his chassis. He hadn't felt that in such a long time that it felt almost alien to him now, but looking down into Hotwire's optics, it also felt right. She had searched for so long for someone who simply understood her, and he did. And she might understand him as well. That was worth more than any words. So he leant forward and pressed his lips against hers gently.

For a long moment, Hotwire just stood there, not reacting to the kiss one way or another. But then she closed her optics, and her lips started to move very slightly against his. For some reason, Prowl suddenly felt as if he had made a huge breakthrough. Her arms still hung by her sides. But she was responding. He reached up, one hand caressing her face indiscriminately, while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her close. His lips moved with hers, deepening the kiss slowly as he drew her into his embrace.

Hotwire almost froze up again, but then she reached out, one hand touching Prowl’s shoulder, the other brushing against his cheek. She wasn’t lonely. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t afraid. Because Prowl was right there, driving it all away and filling the desperately empty void with his wisdom and his strength and his touch... and even if everything went wrong tomorrow... at least she'd have this one moment...

Eventually, Prowl drew away, ending the kiss reluctantly. His optics remained locked with hers, and he still held her close, but suddenly his gaze flicked, and he seemed embarrassed with himself.

"Um," Hotwire said quietly, "Well, that was... enjoyable, if somewhat unexpected. Um... you could always-" Then she realised that Prowl wasn't actually looking at her. She turned around slowly.

There she saw a pair of wide red optics looking back at her. Bumblebee looked startled and confused as he watched the two of them, and his mouth opened and shut, trying to find words. Then he gave up, spun around, and ran back into the warehouse.

"Oh for..." Hotwire looked around for something to punch. Unfortunately, there was nothing but Prowl, and she didn't feel like hitting him, "I knew somebody would get hurt!" she snapped, "I just knew it!" she snapped her visor down and ran towards the steps Bumblebee had hurried down, "Bumblebee!" she shouted down at a hurrying yellow figure, "Come back up here and let me explain!"

Prowl just stood there, conflicted over whether to go or to stay. He knew he couldn't help. He and Bumblebee had always had an antagonistic relationship, and he knew the younger mech wouldn't understand right now. Was this how Hotwire felt all the time? He shuddered at the idea.

"I knew it, why couldn't I just have... Bumblebee! Wait up!" Hotwire started hurrying down the steps, trying to catch up with Bumblebee. But the fast mech had quite the head start, and clearly didn't want to have anything explained to him. Hotwire's voice floated up to Prowl, "I should never have come here... let my guard down... stupid, stupid..."

Prowl, listening to the pursuit, sat down on the edge of the roof, alone again and lost as to what went wrong this time. In the absence of anyone else to worry about, he sighed and put his head in his hands.

Behind him, he could hear the revving of an engine. Bumblebee was heading away from the Autobot base and into the dark night at high speed. Obviously Hotwire hadn't caught up with him. Well, at least now he did have something else to worry about.

Standing up, the cyberninja leapt into action, leaping over the ledge of the building to land lightly on the pavement below, transform into vehicle mode, and take off in pursuit. He couldn't let Bumblebee run off like this. He had to catch up with the young mech... though what he was going to tell him, he really didn’t know.

~~~

Harley: I want to make this absolutely clear right NOW. Bumblebee is not shocked because he wants Hotwire. Or Prowl, for that matter. Bumblebee sees Hotwire as a mother figure and Prowl as a friend. Imagine if you saw your mom kissing one of your friends.

Froggy: Gimmie an ‘Ew’. It’s a completely different kind of ‘jealousy’ that we’ve been working up to for some time now.

Harley: And yes, that is a mild allusion to a lesbian relationship between Hotwire and Blackarachnia. I haven't decided whether to actually make anything of it yet, though.
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Becoming Mama Bear