[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Breathing Room [Closed]

[Bumblebee]

Episode 3 | Week 2 | Day 3
Early Morning
---


Ratchet was alive.

That was the important thing, that Ratchet was alive. Yesterday had been an absolute mess of confusion and panic, but all things considered? Had ended about as well as it could've, considering the circumstances.

Bumblebee felt like he hadn't recharged at all. He'd lay on his berth, counting the many CD's that hung from his ceiling, the gentle breeze of the air conditioning moving them just enough that they'd catch the lights, twinkling like weird stars as they reflected patterned rainbows onto the walls.

Normally, that helped. Watching the CDs, counting them - 157 in all - but not last night. He was worried, processor racing over what'd happened to their medic. He'd forgotten almost... almost everything, it seemed. Including who he was. All his medical knowledge was gone, who they were was gone. He couldn't get the medic’s voice out of his head. The fear laced words when he'd screeched at Bee to leave him alone.

What was going to happen in the future? Patch was an amazing medic, but Ratchet was their CMO. He could do all kinds of complicated surgeries, and knew what was wrong usually within moments due to his expertise. Now he was... gone. His mind had been wiped, and it was all because of MECH. 

Somewhere along these anxiety-filled thoughts, Carbine came to mind. It'd only been four days since Bee had visited the helicopter-mech down in the brig, but what he'd seen had stuck with him. The state of Carbine's face- his actual face - behind the helmet. Bee had helped fix him up a little bit with what basic medical knowledge he had, paired with the fact the idiot had been doing what was basically self-surgery on himself since... how long had he said? Since before Bee had even been sparked.

Now, with Ratchet effectively gone? Would Carbine ever be able to be truly fixed? Not that it was Bee's place to nag him to go and see Ratchet over it, but... would he be able to ever get it looked at if he wanted to?

Which brought his thoughts to another who had been hurt in recent days. One he hadn't actually met yet, and probably should've. After yesterday? They all needed to stick together, having a loner out by himself - as secure and safe as the location was? Was something that Bee didn't agree with. Not anymore. 

Windshield. He'd been punched - viciously so - by Carbine. While that happened before the events of yesterday, Bee didn't know if he'd been fixed properly, he didn't know if he'd need surgeries in the future or further checkups to make sure everything was alright.

He didn't know if Windshield even knew what'd happened.

It'd been a week to the day that Bee had spoken with Optimus. The Prime spoke of planned drills, with Bumblebee leading people - Windshield being one of them. This was probably as good a time as any to go check on him and say hello. Even if the meeting would probably be nothing more than a brief introduction, he could at least see what he would be working with. Try to form a friendship to help pull Windshield into the fold.

After they almost lost Ratchet? They couldn't lose anyone else, even those on the outskirts.

Confirming his intended plan with Prowl, it hadn't taken Bee long to get a ground bridge set up to Arizona- and he'd quickly made his way through, only to be met with mild dismay at the state of the location. This was where he was being kept? It was safe and out the way- yet it felt so weirdly open.

::--Hey uh, Windshield! Knock knock! It's me, Bumblebee.--:: he pinged a quick comm to the mech inside, finding that easier - and slightly less awkward - than knocking or bridging directly inside.

While he probably could've opened the bay door and simply stepped inside, this was technically Windshield's home, and therefore it'd be pretty rude if he just waltzed on in without warning.

(Mention of Prowl and usage of Ground Bridge was done with permission, thank you!) 

[Windshield]

There was no response. At least not initially.

And then, for a moment, Bumblebee could hear the mild popping of an open communication channel, but Windshield did not say any words. Maybe he was struggling to find them, or he was simply in a bad mood.

But regardless of that mystery, the hangar door began to creak. Slowly, it opened to reveal a dimly-lit and bleak concrete interior. Right ahead of Bumblebee, in direct opposition to the entrance, a massive crack in the wall still marred the otherwise-pristine room: a grim reminder.

Windshield was nowhere to be seen for a good while, letting the scout stare consequences in the face as he had done with Carbine. Their bonds were so fragile, so easily broken. All it took was a poorly-aimed comment, and the facade of unity began to fray.

Tap, tap, tap. Light footsteps echoed from beyond one of the partitions designating different rooms within Windshield's so-called home. It did not take long then, and the resident himself appeared on the scene. He came from an opening to the left of the room: a place he designated for relaxation.

However, Windshield looked anything but relaxed. He had a notable slouch, dragging himself to greet Bumblebee out of obligation. Though the scout could not see his face, concealed behind a metal plate as it was, a tired look laid underneath. One did not need x-ray vision to know that.

"Ah, you're that one," he exclaimed with feigned and halfhearted enthusiasm.

It seemed that Windshield struggled to assign the name to a face, and until he saw Bumblebee in front of him, he hadn't the faintest idea of who was visiting.

Sure, Windshield has seen him, and he had a passing knowledge of his role to play in the Autobot ranks. But there were so many names, so many scouts, so many children running around. There was Patch, that stuffy geek, Bee, and that only covered the Cybertronian youths, not to say a word about their human charges.

"Seeing as you bothered to come out here, would you care for anything? I've got something to drink in the back, though it's a bit useless to me right now," Windshield stated in dry wit, jestingly tapping his mouth plate.

The wounds he sustained prevented regular intake. As an alternative, Windshield had to rely on injecting rations and forswearing anything intoxicating. It brought back some uncomfortable memories.

Empurata.

It was miserable not having a face. The process could drive a good bot mad. Being forced to relive that time of his life, even in such a small part, felt awful.

And because of that, he wasn't thinking the most hospitable thoughts right now. Still, that didn't give him any right to dismiss Bumblebee completely, or worse, kick him out. No matter how much he wanted to be left alone.

[Bumblebee]

The lack of response wasn’t too worrying, Bee figured he’d arrived pretty much unannounced and maybe he’d caught Windshield at a bad time. Not that he knew what the ex-Decepticon could really do all day in isolation, but after what’d happened with Carbine, maybe he just didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

A gentle pop, the familiar clicking of the communication channel coming to life- Bee shifted his weight, expecting some sort of conversation to follow, only to be met with silence on the other end. He would remain quiet, wanting to give it another… ooooh, five or so seconds before he spoke again, only for another noise to cut through the stillness.

The hangar door opening.

It opened slowly, Bumblebee standing still as it did - figuring he should wait for it to finish opening all the way before he even thought of moving. Even when it had come to a stop, he remained standing in place, although there was a gentle whir of optics as he took everything in. Details like the lack of the other mech's presence, the crack in the wall, the meager things that were permitted in this strange little ‘jail’. Could it even be counted as a jail? Not really- he was isolated, sure, but had more freedom than Carbine in his little cell.

The crack in the wall drew his attention once more, and he peered at it. He did not know much of what’d happened with the helicopter mech, and so part of him wondered if the damage to the wall had been there all along, or merely the causality of an earlier vented frustration. He’d punched many a wall in his short life, although the damage looked different to that.

Light footfalls pulled his gaze away, and he shifted his weight, tensing up ever so slightly as the other mech finally came into view. Another whir of optics, he sized the ex-Decepticon up - out of instinct, a want to be safe, even if he was sure the other mech wouldn’t try or even do anything.

--The uh, the one and only!-- a chirp, trying to add some humor even though it was a little forced.

At the question and offer, he would hold up a servo to politely decline, and gently shook his helm.

--Ah, no I’m good, thanks though! I probably won’t be here too long, just wanted to officially meet you, y’know? Check in, see how you’re doing.--

His gaze followed the gentle tap-tap of the other mechs servo as he tapped his mouth plate, optics furrowing just slightly. He couldn’t tell from here - nor did he really want to stare - just how bad the damage had been to Windshield, however he knew from Carbine’s description of the event that it’d been fairly gnarly.

So he shifted his attention, looking the other mech in the optics. He remained where he was, not wanting to move until he was invited in properly.

--How are you doing? Has anyone told you what happened yesterday?--

Probably not, he figured. An ex-Decepticon was probably pretty low on the list of people to inform about things happening around the base, or maybe he’d simply been forgotten due to the sheer panic of everything going on.

[Windshield]

Windshield beckoned Bumblebee over when he saw the mech standing there awkwardly like a little pet. There was no need to be so polite and formal with scum such as himself.

Generally, formality made Windshield sick rather than feel respected, and he'd be quick to point it out usually, but he made an exception for Bumblebee just this once. The scout seemed quite friendly, and there was no reason to turn things sour right away.

"Nope, comms have been awfully silent since yesterday. People don't exactly tell me about everything that happens back at base, y'know. But by the sound of you, I'm guessing it's gonna be big."

He turned around and pointed towards one of the openings in the concrete walls with a quick snap and a finger gun, slowly setting off to head in that direction with a lazy gait.

"Why don't we sit down for this?"

The black-coated mech shot another backward glance at Bumblebee, suggesting that he follow him. As he moved further in, he turned a corner beyond one of the partitions and entered into a small room: large enough for multiple bots his size, but nothing fancy. A few concrete blocks sat arranged into a Cybertronian-sized table with two metal chairs flanking each side.

To break up the bleak monotony, Windshield lined the walls with some decor in a failed attempt to make the place homier: a few posters, possibly fashioned from stolen billboards, and gaudy, out-of-season Christmas lights. Large, human-sized lava lamps lined the table as if they were candles. Where he got those better went unmentioned.

[Bumblebee]

As he was beckoned forward, Bumblebee would ease into a gradual - if a little awkward - stride. There was a twinge of nervousness, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because this was an ex-Decepticon and should he try anything, it’d take a few minutes for others to arrive. Maybe it was because he knew Windshield had an altercation with Carbine just days earlier, what was to say he wouldn’t try something again?

He didn’t know this mech, he didn’t know the circumstances that’d made him switch sides, only that he had. Ever since, he’d been in isolation - oh, sure he’d managed to get out a few times to assist with things under supervision, he’d led the charge against the Decepticon mine by providing intel to prove his worth, yet he hadn’t been integrated into the fold, hadn’t been allowed into the Omega Base, or been deemed ‘worthy’ enough of being around others.

Hopefully Bee could change that a little bit. Optimus had picked him to help train Windshield, and the incident with Ratchet seemed like as good a time as any to come and finally meet the ex-Decepticon face to face properly.

Following Windshield as he walked, he would nod - helm turning this way and that, looking around the room. A simple table and a couple of chairs, some pretty Christmas lights and - ooooh, those lava lamps were cool, way bigger than the ones Bee had in his own room, and he found himself staring at them.

--Uh, yeah you could say that.-- big was an understatement. They’d effectively lost Ratchet - even though they had him back in one piece, his mind was… different. He wasn’t himself, yet he was, it’d like he’d been reset, forgetting everything he was.

Pulling out one of the metal chairs, Bee would sit down. His posture was a little tense, but he was trying to relax. He didn’t want Windshield to sense that there was a little discomfort. It was all in his own processor, the other mech was one of them now, and had been for a while.

--Surprised Optimus didn’t let you know, then again I think he’s been preoccupied with everything. I don’t think it’s that they forgot, it’s just...-- he tapered off some.

He was sure it was okay if he told Windshield the news, he had to find out sooner rather than later.

--Basically, Ratchet got taken by MECH after going out alone. Uh, we got him back after a chase, but he’s… not himself anymore. It’s like they wiped his processor, he didn’t recognize anyone, not even Optimus. Other than that he’s fine, but…--

He glanced down, fidgeting.

--Just don’t be surprised when you go back to get your face looked at for a checkup. He won’t remember you, he won’t remember any of the work he’s done on you. Patch, though, she’s great, she’ll probably be overseeing things for a while, including any extra repairs that are needed.--

Glancing up, he would look at Windshield. His processor drifting some to the state of Carbine as well. while he hadn’t been punched like Windshield, his face - Primus he had an actual face under that helmet - was a mess. He wouldn’t tell anyone about it, never, but- with Ratchet gone, would Patch be able to fix both of them by herself? She was a fantastic medic but Ratchet had experience and-

Snapping himself from his thoughts, he would ease back some into the chair, trying to make himself more ‘at home’, although he found himself staring - not that he meant to - at Windshield’s face.

[Windshield]

Windshield sat down with Bumblebee and let the other Autobot speak, only superficially noting that he took interest in the lava lamps on his table. It was a tiny detail, most would miss it, but Windshield liked to keep tabs on the ticks and quirks of his friends. Sometimes, it was a bad habit, other times, it could be quite useful. It reminded him what those around him liked—and did not.

And as Bumblebee continued to explain, Windshield would occasionally nod as an affirmation that he was paying attention. He didn't say anything until his guest finished speaking. The matter disclosed was grim and gave Windshield a lot to think about.

That Bumblebee drifted slightly in his thoughts towards the end did not escape Windshield's attention either, but it paled in comparison to the grave implication of his words.

"That's—rough," he eventually responded. While Windshield did not care for many Autobots, the concern he had for Ratchet easily slipped through into those words. One of the few people he considered to be truly good, losing himself like this. It did not bode well.

"Ratchet was always fair to me. I can't imagine what he must've meant to you."

Empathy? From Windshield? Hell must have frozen over. Or he simply had a previously undisclosed capacity to take matters seriously. Such things were not entirely impossible. Maybe there really was a person with his own fears and hopes beneath the layers of sarcasm and Decepticon conditioning.

"But if MECH can do that to him, I'm afraid of what that means for the rest of us. If you think about it, it could've been you, me—or worse—Optimus."

Optimus. That would be very unfortunate indeed.

Windshield stashed away that thought for later. Then he tapped the bottom of his faceplate again.

"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us now."

After all, it was one of his primary directives from the Prime himself to investigate MECH activity. Perhaps he should return to the site of the incident and investigate. Something to do later, at any rate. He had Bumblebee around to consider for now.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee kept his attention on Windshield as he spoke and filled him in on the important details, while keeping the description short as to not drone on. He watched the occasional nod, thankful that the other mech was listening. Other than that though, there wasn’t much of a reaction - yet he was grateful the other mech let him speak.

While Windshield did not know Ratchet like the rest of them at Omega, what’d happened to him affected him, too. Just like it did all of them. He may have been isolated out here, but he was still a part of their team - still a member of their family.

A solemn nod of his own as Windshield responded. Rough was putting it lightly, and Bee found himself wishing he could do something to help. Optimus was so stressed, even with his composure and lack of outward emotion, things were so different at the Omega Base, and this incident had not helped. It was just one thing after another.

--I ah, yeah, he meant a lot to me- does mean a lot to me. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even be here.-- his beeps quiet, averting his gaze once more, before briefly looking back up and across to the other mech.

After what’d happened to him at the hands of Megatron? It was nothing short of a miracle that he was alive- and he had Ratchet to thank for that.

--It’s scary. Just how fast MECH have come, I mean. They were a threat before, of course, but they are so very dangerous the more they learn about our kind.--

He didn’t even want to think about MECH taking anyone else, any single loss would be devastating in its own way. Even the Decepticons - if any of them were taken? It would further advance MECH’s knowledge, allowing them to create scarier and more effective tools and weapons.

Adjusting his posture somewhat as he settled into the chair, he would tilt his helm almost quizzically at the last comment made.

--What do you mean?--

[Windshield]

"I mean that we'll need to clamp down on MECH," Windshield sighed in response, kicking up his pedes onto the concrete table, arms crossed. He nudged his head slightly in return as if repeating Bumblebee's gesture. A response to his question. Even though Windshield used a very casual way to describe what he wanted to do with MECH, it was pretty clear that what he truly wanted to do was anything but lighthearted.

"Look, I've been a Con for a good chunk of my life. I ain't proud of it, but if there is one thing my old life taught me? You can't compromise with threats like that."

Windshield lifted his shoulders into a light shrug.

"So, just between you and me. You see MECH? Shoot. to. terminate."

The black-coated Autobot winked as if the advice he gave to Bumblebee wasn't incredibly brutal. But judging by Windshield's casual attitude towards killing MECH operatives, it seemed that he had yet to learn the value of human lives…

…Or Bumblebee simply struck him like the type of person that could use some hardening. Honestly, it was amazing that somebody so seemingly innocent made it this far into the war. To Windshield, that meant Bumblebee must've been quite young.

"They changed the rules with Ratchet. Seems to me like we gotta change too," Windshield adopted a more serious tone for these words as if he was given Bumblebee something to ponder on his own.

[Bumblebee]

--Oh right, right! Yeah!--

Duh, that much was obvious. MECH was an issue and this latest attack had hit far too close to home. It was bad enough when any Cybertronian got taken by them, and Primus knew they’d already lost a few - from both sides - but things around the base would be so different with Ratchet being effectively ‘gone’. Everyone adored him, and even if they didn’t? He was kind of the heart and soul of the base - their medic, who cared about everyone even though he was a little grumpy and nagged and fussed, they would struggle without his knowledge and expertise - and not only because he could patch up a wound in no time at all!

A glitchy, scoff-like noise sounded at the comment about shooting to terminate. Bumblebee would wave a servo casually.

--Planned to. Don’t worry about that- I ah, even before this stuff with Ratchet, if I ever saw MECH I didn’t intend on letting them walk away.-- his beeps quiet, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

It was something that ate at him sometimes. He knew Optimus didn’t want them harming any humans - and unfortunately, that also meant those that belonged to MECH. If it weren’t for the fact that they’d been trying so desperately to get Ratchet home, with actual innocent bystanders nearby? He would’ve probably attacked them if the opportunity had presented itself, even with Optimus there.

--It goes against a few things, but they deserve it after what they’ve done to us.--

Another scoff, he found it hilarious that this was twice now that he’d admitted it. Twice now - with the first being to Megatron himself, and now to an ex-Decepticon who he barely knew. He wasn’t sure if any other Autobots shared his view, or if they were on the side of Optimus in this. Surely the incident with Ratchet had a few people thinking differently, though he wouldn’t ever bring it up.

There was no pondering to be had, although he did feel a small ping of regret at speaking so openly about it.

--Course uh, that’s just between you and me.--

The last thing he wanted was for Windshield to repeat this to Optimus. While he was sure he could try and explain his side of things, getting the Prime to understand his reasoning was a futile effort indeed. Even with what they’d done to Ratchet, he was sure the ‘no harm’ rule was still very much in effect.

--I guess we’ll have to wait and see if Optimus plans to retaliate, and if so? How.--

[Windshield]

"Just between you and me. Promise!" Windshield perked up and reassured Bumblebee, swinging his legs back down onto the ground. The willingness of his yellow companion came as a pleasant surprise to him. Windshield found that fostering even the slightest bit of deviation from the Prime's orders within the Autobots could snowball into unforeseen chaos, and so the reaction he roused in Bumblebee seemed most encouraging.

If even their little yellow mascot could be forced into extreme measures and conflict with his own leader, their team stood no chance against a unified Decepticon offensive. Although, Bumblebee did not seem to possess Carbine's easily-provoked attitude, so he would need a bit more than a gentle push.

"Say, why don't we go for a drive? Get to know each other better."

This was a prime opportunity for Windshield to prove what a friendly, honest Autobot he has become. And why not? He could play at being a positive influence. Besides, if the scout could put in a good word for him with the others, all the better for Windshield. He didn't need the naysayers to adore him so long as the more empathetic teammates like Bumblebee thought he was good enough.

With that, he stood up promptly and sauntered over to the exit, as if trying to leave Bumblebee with no choice but to accept his request in a manner that was only subtly forceful. Surely, he would not like to disappoint their newest teammate?

"Oh, and you can have one of those if you'd like. I got 'em cheap," Windshield lifted his hands to raise a pair of air quotes before flicking a thumb back, pointing at the lava lamp nearest to Bumblebee. Of course, he did not need to mention that "cheap" in this context meant stolen from a garage sale.

[Bumblebee]

A small part of Bumblebee felt a little wary at the enthusiastic reassurance from the other mech. He was trying so hard to remain neutral, to not judge the fact that Windshield had been a Decepticon - but it was admittedly harder than he realized.

Yet, he’d have to trust Windshield at his word. After all, he had joined their ranks, and was trying to do his best to fit in with their team. They had to give him a chance, and what better way to start than with a little bit of trust - especially now, with what happened with Carbine.

While Carbine was Bumblebee’s friend, he didn’t want to write Windshield off simply because they had had a falling out and come to blows.

So he’d try not to overthink the comment, simply nodding as a thank you.

At the mention of going for a drive, Bee would shift his weight just slightly - a beepy hum of thought escaping him. Was Windshield allowed to leave freely like this? He assumed as such, after all there was nobody really standing guard to keep him here, nor was he shackled like a prisoner.

It did, admittedly, feel a little weird, but he would not argue nor contest - and it seemed like he didn’t have too much of a choice in the matter as Windshield had begun moving toward the exit.

--Sure!-- he chirped, pushing into a stand as he began to follow. --The area seems quiet enough, maybe we could race or something?--

Racing was something that was normally against the rules - or at least it was when against humans, anyway. But this area as far as Bee could tell was a little out the way, and something fun like a harmless race would be a good way to test Windshield’s skills!

As the lava lamp was gestured to, Bumblebee would stop in his tracks, optics whirring as he peered at the object in question.

--Whoa, really?? Thank you so much! I’ll make a point of coming to grab it when we’re done with our drive!--

Excited chirps, he would push off into a walk once more. He did not know this area well, having never been here before, and so would wait for Windshield to lead on.

[Windshield]

"Don't mention it, buddy. Just a little thank-you for being straight with me earlier."

Windshield then led Bumblebee back to the exit, took one long look around the cracked concrete runway, and transformed with an agile jump. In a flash, his body compressed neatly into a black-and-white Mustang. He would not look out of place in a pastiche spy movie with all that tinted glass and slick paint.

Revving up his engine to tease the raw speed of his altmode, Windshield was practically inviting his yellow tagalong to tag along.

"Alright, Bumblebee. You ready to show me what those wheels can do?"

His voice was friendly yet challenging. He clearly did not lack a competitive spirit and seemed more than eager to put Bumblebee's skills to the test. After all, knowing more about your new friends could always come in handy.

Each slip-up and comment would be watched and remembered for future reference. After all, Windshield could never know too much about every Autobot he has ever met—especially not this one.

No pressure, Bee. No pressure at all.

[Bumblebee]

--Aw, well it’s still really nice of you. Thank you! I didn’t even know they made giant ones like that!--

He was probably way more excited about the lava lamp than he should’ve been. It really was the little things sometimes - or giant, as this case may be. Most others didn’t really appreciate what they had here on Earth or share the yellow Scout’s enthusiasm toward even the littlest of things. Yet every day Bee found himself learning something new, or seeing something he hadn’t seen before - almost everything was fascinating in some way, even if it was only because he would get to tell Raf about all the new things he’d learned, only to then go on and learn even more.

Plus this exciting new thing was paired with an act of kindness. Windshield didn’t have to give him anything, he hadn’t expected a gift or even a thank you for just relaying some awful news that he would’ve been told eventually anyway.

He’d honestly been worried about meeting the ex-Decepticon, but after talking to him for a little bit, and now this? He hoped that they could be friends. He would do his best when it came time to try and work with him when Optimus called upon them for training, and would absolutely put in a good word or two as well, should he be asked.

Trying to stop thinking about just where he was going to put the lava lamp once he took it back to his quarters, he would follow Windshield to the exit of the building. He wouldn’t copy and shift forms, at least not right away - and it was only when the other mech revved did he chuckle, shifting effortlessly into his altmode a split second later.

At the question, there was an affirmative trill.

--You bet! I’ll be sure to go easy on you, being cooped up here for so long, I bet you’re all kinds of rusty!--

A gentle taunt, it’d been a long while since Bee had gotten to do any actual driving that wasn’t back and forth doing the school run or some other boring errand where he had to stick to rules and speed limits. While he knew racing technically wasn’t allowed, this could be seen as some sort of unofficial training exercise, if only to get a small glimpse of Windshield’s capabilities.

Or at least, that’s what he’d say if they got caught.

--I’ll even give ya a couple seconds head start!--