Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

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
- 18
- 19
- 20
~~~

Becoming Mama Bear

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

~~~

Harley: Hotwire’s confession. It’s a very brief version of the story “The Choices We Make”. And I am sorry I don’t update regularly, but I’m so busy playing with my Transformers toys.

~~~

Chapter Nineteen: Confession

Ratchet scowled at Hotwire, "You can't just go out there and search for Bumblebee. You have no idea where he is. And suppose he comes back while you're out looking for him? You don't have an Autobot com-link. We wouldn't be able to contact you."

"He's been gone for over 24 hours!" Hotwire complained. She knew what Ratchet was saying was all perfectly logical, but it felt wrong, "He might have been hurt, or captured, or anything. We can't just let him run away and just sit here doing nothing! Do you remember what happened the last time you took that option?!"

Ratchet groaned quietly, "I know you're worried about Bumblebee, Hotwire," he muttered, "But dashing off on your own isn't going to help. I'm trying to locate his energy signature, and when I do, then we will find him."

Prowl was standing off to the side, his arms crossed over his chassis, "I partly agree with you, Hotwire,” the ninja told her calmly, "But rushing out after him unprepared is not the answer. The Decepticons may still be looking for you. You don’t have an Autobot com-link yet, and if you run into trouble we'll be searching for two missing persons instead of one."

Hotwire just glared at him, "I'm not an Autobot. Even if I was, you’re not even an Autobot officer. You can’t tell me what to do or not do! And that includes getting some Autobot com-link so that I’m at your beck and call!” she snapped spitefully.

“He’s right though,” Optimus Prime agreed with Prowl on this one, "You're not an Autobot, but you could get hurt if you run out there without preparing. It's not responsible."

"Why should I follow your orders, Prime?” Hotwire asked him, heading into ranting territory, “You Autobots are all the same!“

"This isn't about orders or authority,” an exasperated Prowl told her loudly, trying to talk sense into her, "This is about common sense. Just give us a little more time to prepare, and we can go out in patrols, sweep the city; do this properly. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Hotwire looked down. She didn't want to do what anybody told her, but she also knew that they were right. Also, she cared about Prowl, "He could have already been hurt by the time we're organised," she said crossly, "He could already have been hurt right now."

Ratchet could tell that Hotwire agreed with them, but didn't want to admit she'd been wrong, "You're tired, worried and angry, Hotwire," he said as patiently as he could muster, "You haven't stopped worrying since Bumblebee ran off. Go and lie down in your room."

"You're not the boss of me," Hotwire repeated, but appeared to relent, turning and returning to her room in the base. She felt ready to cry, but she didn't want to - not in front of them.

She'd only been in the base for a few days, so there wasn't much alluding to her personality in her room, but one half of it was obsessively neat, with disks catalogued in several different ways, and technical specifications for other things. The other half was equally neat, but had posters of astrological signs, phases of the moon, and the inside of a computer, which looked like the overhead view of a very complicated city.

She sat on her bunk, visor down, and put her face in her hands quietly, trying to stifle all the worries she had. It was impossible. Maybe she did worry too much, but she couldn't help it, not when there was always so much to worry about. Obviously she didn’t feel the same way about Bumblebee as she did about Prowl, but she cared for them both equally, and she’d never cared about two people so much before... it was a whole new experience for her.

Oh well... there was really only one thing to do when you were worried. One thing that made it all flow away like so much energon. Hotwire took out her screwdriver and held it at an angle, before jamming it right through the armour on her forearm.

It was then that Prowl entered her room casually, not thinking to knock first, "Hotwire, we need to..." he began, but paused when he saw what she was doing to herself. Staring, his mood and expression swiftly shifted. "What are you doing?" he asked the femme, an edge to his voice.

"I'm... troubled," Hotwire said through gritted teeth, not looking up. If robots could sweat, that's what she would be doing. The screwdriver blade now six inches into her right arm, she began to drag it through metal and sensory circuits. Experience and her training as a medic allowed her to create a great deal of pain for herself, while not causing any damage that couldn't be repaired with twenty minutes of welding. There was a horrible sound of tearing metal.

"So you're tearing up your body? I thought we talked about this,” the cyberninja replied, stepping closer to her, "Hurting yourself is really not productive."

"It's none of your business what I do to myself," Hotwire answered back. Perhaps the worst thing about it was that she didn't look ashamed at being caught. Just irritated that she had been interrupted. She pulled the screwdriver out, but held it ready for another stab at herself.

"Surely you feel the pain?" Prowl asked.

"To tell you the truth, I don't feel much of anything anymore," Hotwire returned, rudely.

"Then why do it?” he snapped back, angered by her dismissive attitude, "If not for the pain, then why? Is it a cry for help? Some way of getting attention?"

"If I wanted attention, I wouldn't do it in private," Hotwire wedged the screwdriver back into the open wound, not looking at him, and grimaced as more metal was torn, "It... is my fault... that Bumblebee is somewhere out there... it is my fault... that this stupid war isn't over... And I hate myself for it..."

"Now you're just being arrogant,” Prowl replied, taking a seat in front of her, "You're one person, Hotwire. You can't control the actions of another person, much less the entire world."

"The right person at the right time can make all the difference," Hotwire hissed. Her face flushed with heat, not embarrassed, but angry at herself. How could she have been so stupid? To blame herself out loud for the war... that would have Prowl asking too many questions. He couldn't understand if she didn't tell him, but if she told him he'd kill her, but if he kept telling her it wasn't her fault without understanding, she'd feel worse, because it was her fault.

"No, the right people can make a difference. One person alone is a grain of sand in the desert. A lone soldier doesn't win a war all on their own. A leader only has power because there are others willing to follow him. What makes you so different?" Prowl spoke back, challenging her statement.

"You'd offline me if you knew," Hotwire swapped hands, and jammed the screwdriver into her left arm with such savagery that it made Prowl flinch. She pulled it out again, "And I deserve it. But how am I supposed to repent if I'm offline? I'm responsible for every death, mech or otherwise, pertaining to this war, in the last seven million years."

Prowl's hand shot out and snatched Hotwire's wrist, preventing her from stabbing at herself again, "That's the most glitched claim I've ever heard,” the Autobot told her calmly, "Unless you're Primus himself, you can't possibly take responsibility for so many lives. What got it into your processor that you can be?"

Hotwire gritted her teeth, "I'll tell you," she said after a long pause, "And you can punish me however you see fit. I won't stop you; I deserve it. But you have to promise me one thing. Promise me on... not on your life, and not on mine. You have to promise me that you will never, ever tell anybody what I did... even after you punish me... on your honour."

Prowl blinked, surprised and confused by what she was saying. She clearly believed that she was responsible, although he couldn't think of how that was possible. But an oath was an oath, and this was one he felt safe in taking, "On my honour,” he replied, “I can swear on nothing greater.”

Hotwire bit down on her lip, "To this date, there are only three mechs functioning who know what I did," she said, "One of them is me." She was visibly shaking. She felt as if there was something pressing down on her chassis, trying to silence her, "It was seven million years ago. The Great War had begun, but it was just a war. It hadn’t yet become the force of destruction and hatred that it is now.” She covered her face with a hand.

Prowl sat there, confused as to what she meant by telling this story.

“I was repairing Decepticons on a battlefield near Iacon. A Decepticon... there was... I..." she bit down on her lip so hard that a bead of energon welled up, "You know of Lugnut?" Prowl nodded, "He brought me a Decepticon to repair. He... brought me... Megatron..."

“Megatron?” Prowl's eyebrows rose slightly, genuinely surprised by what the medic was saying. "You... repaired Megatron?" he asked, looking for clarification.

Hotwire nodded, "I knew what he'd done," she said, almost choking on the words, "I knew what he would continue to do. Nobody forced me to do it; I could have walked right out the back of that battlefield hospital. I didn't get a reward. I didn't expect one. I could have saved so many lives right then... by doing nothing at all... but I couldn't do that. I saved his life..." she whispered.

Prowl looked utterly surprised, his mouth hanging open for an instant as he considered his words. The only one available was, "...Why?"

"Because I was repairing people who came in," Hotwire replied hopelessly, "And he was brought in close to offline from various injuries. Because. I did it because I couldn't have not done it, no matter how hard I tried..."

"I thought you were the pragmatic type,” Prowl swiftly shot back at her, his voice rising, "You had to know that letting him offline would have saved many more lives. What possessed you to start being an idealist then?!"

"I don't know!" Hotwire wailed. She was aware that Prowl's grip on her wrist was tightening, "I tried to justify letting him offline and getting the frag out of there and leaving all the other cons in the tent to offline but I couldn't... And you don't know how hard I tried..." she hung her head, "I deserve to hurt. I deserve to suffer. But would you mind doling out your punishment now? I'd rather not have to wait..."

Prowl looked at Hotwire as if he was seriously considering it. His grip on her tightened, his body tensed, ready to strike... He’d lost friends to this war! People who were practically family! People he’d really cared about! He could feel himself raising a fist to lash out at her...

And then he let go of her, "Frag it all... what would be the point?" he said in a rare moment of emotional release, "What happened back then is done. And I can't punish you for saving a life, no matter who it was..." The ninja turned away from her and shook his head. "I doubt that letting Megatron offline would have ended this war, anyway. Someone else would have risen to take his place. This isn't a person we are fighting; it's an idea."

Hotwire had squeezed shut her optics and readied herself for some sort of attack, but when Prowl let go of her wrist, she blinked, "You what?" she asked, "You mean you don't hate me? I'm a fragging monster!"

Prowl gave a swift, bitter chuckle before turning back towards her. "Foolish, dear Hotwire, is a far cry from monstrous,” he told her, shaking his head, "I can't agree with the action you took then, but I also can't say that what you did was evil. You can't take responsibility for Megatron's actions."

"But... but I..." Hotwire stammered. Prowl realised that despite being far older than him, Hotwire had a rather child-like view of the world. She saw the world as a jigsaw, but only the big picture. She didn't understand how all the pieces fitted together to make that picture, or the way that sometimes you had to turn a piece to fit. And having told so few people, and spent so much time moving around on her own, of course nobody had ever bothered to explain it to her.

Prowl gave her a look that was part confusion and part sympathy. She had spent so long dreading this moment that she had convinced herself nobody could ever forgive her. "You saved Megatron's life. You gave him a gift. But what he chose to do with your gift is not your responsibility. Megatron has made his own decisions, and if we could blame you for what he has done, that would mean he could not be held accountable. But you and I both know that would be wrong."

Hotwire was still shaking slightly, "I... know that should make sense," she said quietly, "But I still feel responsible... like I need to do something... need to make amends. And yet I know it's impossible..."

"All you need to do is what you can,” Prowl assured her, reaching over to rest his hands on her shoulders, "I never expected YOU to be the type to hold the world on her shoulders."

That made Hotwire smile again. Then she looked down at her arms, which were still leaking energon, "I'm sorry," she murmured, looking at the tears in her armour, "I'm a mess..."

Prowl's hands slid down her arm, holding them gently up so he could see them. His optics swept over them, observing the damage done, "Nothing serious, it seems,” he commented about the wounds, "Still, nothing I'd recommend doing more than once."

"I've done it lots of times," Hotwire said softly, "I'll just... fix it up again," she said, and a welding torch slid out of a compartment. She bit down on her lip again, and started welding the tears in her armour closed again. Without a painkiller program, that probably hurt just as much as ripping them open in the first place.

Prowl watched as she melted her own armour plating back together, an agonizingly slow and painful process which showed an amazing amount of self-control on Hotwire's part. He just wished she didn't have to show that self-control, especially when she was dealing with wounds she inflicted on herself.

Hotwire grimaced, and finished up on the lesser cuts on her left arm, before replacing the welding iron. She hung her head, "You want me to stop doing this," she said quietly, "I know you do. I'm just... not sure that I can..."

"It's an addiction, Hotwire,” the mech told her patiently, "Some of your data is fragmented and you need help to defragment those files. But you know that you need help... and that is the first step to healing yourself. You need to try, and you know that." Reaching up, he caressed her cheek.

"I know..." Hotwire sighed, closing her optics, "But I get worried, and then I get angry, and my scars itch, and I have to do something... I don't know who I am anymore... I used to be so sure... it's my fault and I need to make up for it... but now I'm not even sure of that..." she nuzzled her cheek into Prowl's hand.

"You are who you are,” Prowl replied, holding her close, "The rest... you don't have to worry about. It'll turn out alright, I promise."

"So... we're still... friends?" Hotwire asked him, remembering the word he had used a few days ago. Just a few days... it seemed so much longer...

Prowl chuckled softly, "Of course we are,” he assured her, drawing her into a close embrace, "Something like this is hardly worth breaking a friendship like ours for."

Hotwire's engine gave a soft purr, as she was comforted by Prowl's embrace. Yet she was still amazed. Amazed that he hadn't judged her. Amazed that he hadn't hurt her. Amazed that he even wanted to touch her after hearing what she'd done. She sat there, not moving a servo, “Don’t ever leave me, Prowl,” she whispered softly.

“I never will,” he promised her, “On my honour...”

~~~

Harley: So this chapter ends nicely at least. Next chapter though, Bumblebee gets back and things get endlessly complicated.

Froggy: You gonna review or not?
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Becoming Mama Bear