#048 - Guilty
This is also serving as a flog for this week's events. It takes place after these logs.
It had been a horrible few days.
Rarely had Bumblebee ever felt so terrible in his relatively short life, even with the slag that sometimes happened to him. Even when he was kicked out of boot camp…Even when he had looked Megatron in the optic and known the Decepticon wouldn’t hesitate to scrap him…Even when he’d been infested with space barnacles…Even when he had faced the ultimate humiliation of having Starscream juggle him…
Nothing had been as bad. This feeling had been much worse; much more awful.
He had lost Scorponok. Lost the mech he was supposed to be protecting and looking after.
He had promised to protect the little Decepticon from anything that could harm him. Promised to look after him and make sure he was okay. Scorponok, though he’d never really expressed as much in words, was fragile. Bumblebee knew that. Sure, he was lethal and efficient. He could kill anything he set his mind to and wouldn’t rest until he’d completed an assigned task. But…He had so many joints; so many delicate parts. He was so helpless without any one to give him orders. And Bumblebee had promised…Promised.
And he had failed.
Scorponok was sleeping, curled up beside him and using his arm as a pillow. He’d been exhausted when he returned home; Bumblebee had pretty much forced him to eat something before letting him slip into recharge. He’d nodded off almost the moment after they settled down, a small, content smile on his face.
Bumblebee lay awake in the makeshift bed, staring off into the darkness.
He should have just held Scorponok’s hand. Should have kept him closer. He knew the ’Con was wary around large groups of humans. He knew that it was easy for them to get separated, what with the way Scorponok had a tendency to wander off when something caught his interest. He knew it was more likely for something to happen when they were in these weak, fleshy bodies. He knew.
And he still hadn’t paid enough attention.
They had gotten lucky. He had gotten lucky.
Scorponok could have been hurt. He could have been lost forever. Something bad could have happened.
Bumblebee wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. The Decepticon had only tunneled into his life a mere two weeks before. He shouldn’t have cared. They shouldn’t have been friends; they were on opposing sides. What would his friends say, if they knew he was recharging with a Decepticon? That he was friends with a Decepticon?
The rebellious part of him didn’t care what any one else would think. The vulnerable, desperate-for-approval part screamed at him that this was wrong; that every one would think he‘d gone crazy if they knew. He pushed that little voice to the back of his processor and ignored it; he knew Scorponok needed him.
He liked being needed.
But what good was he, if he couldn’t even keep the ‘Con from getting lost?
Scorponok shifted a little, curling closer and clinging to him a little. Bumblebee glanced at him through the blackness; there was enough moonlight filtering through the window for him to see that the ‘Con’s expression had become less pleased and more stressed. He wondered what Scorponok was dreaming…
“I’m sorry…” He said softly. He was fairly certain Scorponok didn’t blame him. Or that -if he did- he had already forgiven Bumblebee. But still…He felt like he needed to say it. He felt terrible. He needed to say it or he would only feel worse.
“I’m not good at this.” He continued, “I’m not good at being the responsible one. Slag, I’m not even good at taking care of myself. I’m trying my best…And I still couldn’t keep you safe. Or find you when I lost you…I couldn’t do it and…I’m sorry…”
Silence.
Scorponok stirred again, eyes suddenly slitting open and burning red through the night. He looked at Bumblebee solemnly for a painfully long moment, expression serious and considering.
Then he smiled.
Bumblebee felt a little better.
It had been a horrible few days.
Rarely had Bumblebee ever felt so terrible in his relatively short life, even with the slag that sometimes happened to him. Even when he was kicked out of boot camp…Even when he had looked Megatron in the optic and known the Decepticon wouldn’t hesitate to scrap him…Even when he’d been infested with space barnacles…Even when he had faced the ultimate humiliation of having Starscream juggle him…
Nothing had been as bad. This feeling had been much worse; much more awful.
He had lost Scorponok. Lost the mech he was supposed to be protecting and looking after.
He had promised to protect the little Decepticon from anything that could harm him. Promised to look after him and make sure he was okay. Scorponok, though he’d never really expressed as much in words, was fragile. Bumblebee knew that. Sure, he was lethal and efficient. He could kill anything he set his mind to and wouldn’t rest until he’d completed an assigned task. But…He had so many joints; so many delicate parts. He was so helpless without any one to give him orders. And Bumblebee had promised…Promised.
And he had failed.
Scorponok was sleeping, curled up beside him and using his arm as a pillow. He’d been exhausted when he returned home; Bumblebee had pretty much forced him to eat something before letting him slip into recharge. He’d nodded off almost the moment after they settled down, a small, content smile on his face.
Bumblebee lay awake in the makeshift bed, staring off into the darkness.
He should have just held Scorponok’s hand. Should have kept him closer. He knew the ’Con was wary around large groups of humans. He knew that it was easy for them to get separated, what with the way Scorponok had a tendency to wander off when something caught his interest. He knew it was more likely for something to happen when they were in these weak, fleshy bodies. He knew.
And he still hadn’t paid enough attention.
They had gotten lucky. He had gotten lucky.
Scorponok could have been hurt. He could have been lost forever. Something bad could have happened.
Bumblebee wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. The Decepticon had only tunneled into his life a mere two weeks before. He shouldn’t have cared. They shouldn’t have been friends; they were on opposing sides. What would his friends say, if they knew he was recharging with a Decepticon? That he was friends with a Decepticon?
The rebellious part of him didn’t care what any one else would think. The vulnerable, desperate-for-approval part screamed at him that this was wrong; that every one would think he‘d gone crazy if they knew. He pushed that little voice to the back of his processor and ignored it; he knew Scorponok needed him.
He liked being needed.
But what good was he, if he couldn’t even keep the ‘Con from getting lost?
Scorponok shifted a little, curling closer and clinging to him a little. Bumblebee glanced at him through the blackness; there was enough moonlight filtering through the window for him to see that the ‘Con’s expression had become less pleased and more stressed. He wondered what Scorponok was dreaming…
“I’m sorry…” He said softly. He was fairly certain Scorponok didn’t blame him. Or that -if he did- he had already forgiven Bumblebee. But still…He felt like he needed to say it. He felt terrible. He needed to say it or he would only feel worse.
“I’m not good at this.” He continued, “I’m not good at being the responsible one. Slag, I’m not even good at taking care of myself. I’m trying my best…And I still couldn’t keep you safe. Or find you when I lost you…I couldn’t do it and…I’m sorry…”
Silence.
Scorponok stirred again, eyes suddenly slitting open and burning red through the night. He looked at Bumblebee solemnly for a painfully long moment, expression serious and considering.
Then he smiled.
Bumblebee felt a little better.