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
- 4
- 5
- 6
~~~

Becoming Mama Bear

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

~~~

Harley: Yes, I know it’s been a while since the last update. But I can’t write more chapters if I don’t have a co-writer. Still, there’s a new chapter right here.

Froggy: I’m back up for RPing now. Hopefully it’ll stay that way.

Harley: In this chapter, Bumblebee will get his vocals back, so finally he’ll be speaking again. Also still repairing him.

~~~

Chapter Five: Friendly

Once again, Bumblebee shot up in his med-lab bed, hissing static as he tried to gasp in terror at what he had just experienced, reliving yet another horrible torture session in his unrelenting nightmares. His circuits felt cold, his mind was paralyzed with fear, and he felt utterly lost. As the nightmare faded away, the dark numbness was all that was left, and in some ways, that was far more bothering than the nightmare he had awakened from. It almost felt like he was already dead.

When was the last time he'd felt really alive? Now that he came to think about it, that would be around about when Starscream ripped out his optics and crushed them. And that had been a whole new kind of agony. Did pain really make him feel alive?

There was an old saying that pain was good, because it reminded you that you were still alive, and it was ringing true to him. Desperately, releasing another string of static, Bumblebee clawed at his throat where his broken vocal circuits were. Pain jolted through him, as well as a burst of hot anger. Why the fuck couldn't Hotwire just fix this so he could speak? Why did she leave him blind? He didn't give a damn about the million little calibrations that needed to be made to his internal system! Those could be done later. He clawed harder, tearing into the casing, feeling the raw agony racing through his CPU, simultaneously tormenting him and energizing him, jolting him to action.

For a long and painful moment, the physical pain made the emotional pain - the memories especially - cease, and Bumblebee relaxed. But it didn't last. The memories returned within a matter of minutes, and Bumblebee didn't even hear the slowly approaching clack of light feet.

Bumblebee continued opening the panel up, feeling around the broken circuit boards and frayed wires, unable to vocalize the agony he was feeling as he did so. Yet, at least he was feeling something, which made the pain an odd sort of relief. He almost felt like attempting to repair that particular part himself.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" a voice that was usually dry and unemotional rang out across the lab in a high pitched screech, and slim hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his collar and pinning them by his sides, "I KNEW I shouldn't have left you alone!" Hotwire scolded Bumblebee.

Bumblebee was surprised by Hotwire's sudden interruption, but he was hardly deterred. Shaking her hands away from him, the young Autobot pointed angrily at his opened vocal circuits, and with his other hand, he scrawled messily into the metal table a single Cybertronian glyph for the word "fix".

"I can't repair your vocals until I've repaired your ability to move!" Hotwire replied, "And besides, you could have really hurt yourself clawing at those wires! And besides, if I replace your vocals and your optics too soon, somebody is going to try and take you back to the cells!"

No. Bumblebee decided that he wasn't going to take that as an answer. Amazing as it was, but he actually found himself liking Hotwire. However, he needed her to fix this, needed to give him the freedom to communicate instead of laying around as some blind mute. He slammed a fist against the table forcefully and pointed at the circuits again.

Hotwire very quietly pressed her fingers to her forehead, "For a blind, mute kid, you sure are eager to get your way," she said, exasperated, "I have your replacement parts on order. I could replace your vocals with those of another mech now, but they'd be default Decepticon parts. You'd sound like a different mech."

Bumblebee didn't care, and he let her know it by clenching his fist and thumping it on the table. He just wanted to be able to speak again. If nothing else, he wanted to be able to hold a conversation with his medic.

"Very well..." Hotwire sighed and walked over to a cupboard, bringing out some parts, then returned, "Here, I'm just going to give you a painkiller, so it won't hurt as much while I'm making the replacement." Bumblebee felt a sharp sting in his neck, and Hotwire started to work on his collar.

Bumblebee relaxed, putting down his arms and letting the Cybertronian doctor work on his mangled circuitry. It was remarkable, he realized, how much he had taken speaking for granted.

"When I've completed the task, don't you dare strain your vocals," Hotwire warned him as she continued to work, "They'll still be sore and weak, what with being so new to your body. You could damage them permanently if you're not careful, and then even I won't be able to repair you."

He didn't dare nod his head to say yes, but he took her advice to heart, knowing that he really didn't want to push his luck...

Almost two hours passed, but eventually Hotwire completed the installation work on the parts, before moving on to the programs that would install the parts too.

Just before she could complete her work, Bumblebee heard the door to the lab open and somebody walk in, "Hey, Hotwire," Blackarachnia's calm, sultry voice spoke up, "Heard you were doing a new kind of work..."

Bumblebee tilted his head in the direction of the newcomer, wishing he could see her as well as hear her. One thing at a time, though. He kept still, trying to draw as little attention as he could.

"Hmmm... maybe..." Hotwire relented, shifting awkwardly between Bumblebee and Blackarachnia.

"I heard you were getting... fond of him," Blackarachnia pointed out, "Why else would you take care of an Autobot?"

"Because I've got nothing else to do?" Hotwire suggested predictably, glaring.

Bumblebee didn't like where this was going. Blackarachnia was spiteful and hate-filled - and very, very dangerous. Conversations between Decepticons were constant exchanges of veiled (or unveiled) threats, and he honestly wondered how they could stand it constantly.

"Hotwire," Blackarachnia told the femme warningly, "Look, I checked up on this little runt days ago. What the frag is the point of fixing him up if you're just going to end up handing him back?"

"It's my job," Hotwire insisted, "What else am I supposed to do? Offline or something?"

Or offline me, Bumblebee thought, remembering his first desperate request of the medic. It seemed like the only choice at the time, and it was still looking like a logical action to take, considering the circumstances he found himself in. He didn't want to go back!

"You're always depressed, Hotwire," Blackarachnia pointed out.

"And you're just jealous that I get to be a freak and accepted at the same time," Hotwire scowled. This apparently had the desired effect, and Blackarachnia left the room, fuming. Bumblebee heard Hotwire sit down on a chair, even though he couldn't hear her covering her face.

He still couldn't speak, no matter how much he wanted to. Hotwire had yet to put the finishing touches on the mechanics of his vocal system. Still, driven on by some odd fondness for the one robot in the entire base that hadn't deliberately hurt him, and had shown him the slightest nugget of sympathy, he carefully felt around and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Hotwire turned again, looking at Bumblebee, taking his hand, "I don't expect this will make any sense," she said, "But thankyou. I know what those mechs did to you must have hurt, but I do know what it feels like to feel offline," She stood up again, and bent over Bumblebee, "Hold still," she told him, "There's one more program to install, and then you'll be able to talk."

Complying, the Autobot held still and let her work on the final touches to his vocal circuitry.

"Right... done," Hotwire closed up the torn metal and took Bumblebee's hand, "Now, try to say something - softly, mind you, otherwise you could damage your vocals all over again."

Carefully, Bumblebee went through the familiar action of sending data to his vocal circuits to be translated into audible sound, "...H...Hello?" he spoke. Even now his voice was an aching rasp.

Hotwire smiled, "There we go," she said, squeezing his hand, "That should be better, right?" Although to be honest, Bumblebee's voice was slightly lower pitched than it had once been. But it wasn't as if she hadn't warned him about that; he was the one who wanted to have his vocals repaired no matter what.

"Much... better,” he told her, adjusting to the lower voice he had all of a sudden. It wasn't bad, actually, although he'd have to get around to having it readjusted eventually. Possibly.

Hotwire shook her head quietly, "Of course, the down point is that now you can scream again," she said, "Looks like I might have some more work keeping a few of the more sadistic brutes out. As if I didn't have enough to do already..."

Bumblebee shrugged and generated a stream of static like he did before his vocal circuits were fixed, "They won't notice the difference,” he said smugly.

"Huh, maybe Blackarachnia is right," Hotwire commented, "Maybe I am getting a little fond of you. Can't think why." She absentmindedly wrapped her hands around each other, and started twisting them together.

Bumblebee smirked. "Well, it can't be my charming personality,” he joked, which felt really, really good to do again. He hadn't felt like smiling in so long now. He knew how annoying he could be.

"I know it certainly can't be mine," Hotwire partially agreed, "And now you've got me all worried about you, for trying to hurt yourself. Must be entirely to do with it giving me more work."

"I'll try to keep self-harm to a minimum,” Bumblebee half-joked in return; he honestly didn't want to give her more reason to fix his broken body again.

"You'd better, or I'll have to resort to sedative programs," Hotwire replied. She stood up, letting go of Bumblebee's hand and laying it on top of his chassis, "I just hope that big-chinned scumbag Starscream stays out for a while longer..." She drew to a halt and looked at Bumblebee, thoughts entering her head. She was a medic. She was supposed to take care of her patients. But just repairing Bumblebee would result in him inevitably being taken back to the cells... and she couldn't just sit back and let that happen, could she?

"Something wrong?" Bumblebee asked. Having gone without his vision for several days now had made his sense of hearing more sensitive, and he could almost sense Hotwire's concern because she was still there, but not working on him right now.

Thin, clawed servos knotted together again, and the skinny femme turned away from Bumblebee, picking up a soldering iron in one hand. It was a while since Bumblebee had seen Hotwire's face, but he knew that the skinny femme's visor obscured almost all of her expression, "Nothing's wrong, exactly," she said finally, "I just... feel wrong. Like I should be feeling a different way. I shouldn't be involving you with my problems... but it's hardly your fault." She sighed and turned back to Bumblebee, "Don't worry. There's still a lot of repairs to make for you. But we're coming to the end of the major alterations."

Bumblebee didn't know whether to be thankful or not. Sure, he'd be repaired, but he'd also be a target for his captors again. At least the repairs gave him a fighting chance of escape. If it came to that, he decided that he would much rather go down fighting than the slow, lingering death the Decepticons intended for him. "...I don't want to be a prisoner again,” he said softly, "I'd rather offline..."

Hotwire paused, "No, I wouldn't expect you to want such a thing," she said after a long moment, pushing six feet of plaited metal back behind her head, "I'm not some kind of monster, Bumblebee."

"I know,” he replied, "You might be the only around here who isn't. You fix things. The Decepticons... they just break them." Bumblebee paused, a thought suddenly coming to the young Autobot's mind, the smallest glimmer of hope. If Hotwire was on his side, he might just have a chance. "Say, what sort of spare parts do you have available?" he asked.

"Upgrades," Hotwire walked over to a bench and picked up some parts, "Plenty of spare parts. Lasers. My labs are freaking PACKED with Decepticon weapons."

Bumblebee let the smallest hint of a smile cross his face. That was exactly what he hoped she would say. Hotwire fixed people up constantly... and especially in a war, that included broken weapons systems. "I think we should look into a few upgrades."

"Hmmm... you're sure?" Hotwire asked, "You're younger than me, you know. You sure you want more weapons?"

"Yeah,” Bumblebee answered, feeling down his own body. He had always been smaller than many of his Autobot allies, fit for scout work, but not truly heavy combat. An image flashed in his mind of the last thing he saw before his optics had been damaged too far, of the grinning, vile Decepticons violating his body with reckless disregard for his well-being, "A lot more."

"I don't know..." Hotwire paused uncertainly, "I could get into trouble... and so could you. I'm as much a prisoner in this place as you are, you know." She tapped her cheek, looking at Bumblebee again, "Anyway, I need to replace your armour first too. But apart from that..." she gave it some thought, "Okay, I'll see what I can do. There's a lot to arrange."

"Alright,” Bumblebee quietly agreed, "But I'm going to need better armour. And maybe some improved suspension." He laid back and rested as Hotwire resumed her work, his mind racing, planning and plotting. If nothing else, it provided a good distraction from the emptiness that was creeping back within him.

Hotwire nodded and took Bumblebee's hand, working on snapped wires and broken joints, "You'll be okay," she told him, "You still hurt a little now, but you'll recover soon enough..." she told him definitely.

"I know,” he told her quietly, "You're looking after me."

~~~

Harley: Ah, that’s better. Next chapter, more rape! So stick around.

Froggy: And now that you’re finished reading, review it right now. NOW!
- 4
- 5
- 6
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