Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m sure it’s not as interesting as you think it is.”

“I’m sure you have no imagination.” Mo retorted, strapping the ‘night vision goggles’ (read: swim goggles she painted black and taped green vellum paper over) to Thrash’s face. He yelped and tugged to readjust them. “Come on, if Thrash and Twitch noticed—”

“Twitch notices flies buzzing too loudly, and Thrash just agrees with her.” Robby protested, arms still crossed.

“Hey, the flies want to buzz right by my face!” Twitch protested, in the process of slapping herself in old black paint that Robby had to triple-check was normal paint and not somehow going to stick to their metal forever. “Come on, Bumblebee’s always telling us we gotta work on our sneak attacks and eating stakes!”

“Stake-outs,” Robby corrected simply, “and I really don’t think he meant for you to use those skills to spy on him!”

“Then he’s not teaching right.” Mo said simply, patting Thrash’s head when he stood back up, looking around in amazement at the vibrant green world.

“Whoa, it’s like everything is a leaf!” He ogled.

“Okay, look,” Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, “Bumblebee can do whatever he wants—”

“We’re not stopping him from sneaking out.” Twitch put her servos on her hips. She broke into her classic manic grin. “We’re just gonna see what he does!”

“Maybe he’s scouting, he’s a scout!” Robby insisted. “Or, maybe he’s just meeting with Optimus. Maybe he’s making sure no ones sneaking up on us in the middle of the night!”

“Then he wouldn’t mind if we came to help him out.” Mo said cheerfully, stepping out of the way when Thrash nearly walked over her, then bonked into the barn wall. “You gotta admit it’s a little suspicious.”

“So he mysteriously leaves in the middle of the night every other Tuesday, big deal.” Robby huffed. As if he was not, in fact, twitching with curiosity.

“Not quite!” Twitch cut in again, hopping over Thrash’s collapsed body (from hitting the barn wall, you see) and crouching down. “He usually leaves on Tuesday nights, but sometimes it's on Thursday, or Monday, or I saw him leave really early in the morning on Saturday cause he kinda kicked me in the head on the way out. But usually it’s Tuesday, though I think he had two weeks he didn’t go at all—”

“So we’re only mostly sure he’ll go wherever he goes tonight.” Robby interrupted. “And if he doesn’t? Are we just going to stay up late every night till he leaves? We have school.”

“How about we just worry about tonight first?” Mo said cheerfully, picking up the discarded ‘stealth attire’ and chucking the black hoodie at her brother. He cringed and lifted an arm, to which it hit him, then fell to the floor. “Think of it this way: either it’s something really important that they think we can’t handle—”

“Which is stupid.” Thrash scoffed, jerking his head up.

“—or it’s something really embarrassing, and that’ll be funny.” Mo broke into a bright smile. “No other reason Bumblebee would hide it if it was just regular scouting.”

“Oh, wow, you actually asked him about this before going through with a plan?” Robby raised a brow. 

“I asked why he was sneaking around all Decepticon-like!” Twitch raised her hand, proud. “And I kept asking until he made us do early morning drills and I totally forgot about it until he did it again!” 

“That’s why he woke me up so early?” Thrash whirled on her.

“...it was an attempt.” Robby sighed, grudgingly picking up the hoodie. “But if we get caught, I was the one trying to be responsible.”

“No, you aren’t. You brought the ninja clothes.” Mo huffed, grabbing her own black sweater and pulling it on. 

“They aren’t ninja clothes.”

“Now, remember,” Mo ignored him, turning to the Terrans, “we gotta be really, really quiet. No talking unless we say so, got it?”

“What if Bumblebee sees us and nobody else notices?” Twitch raised her hand. “Or what if one of those spider bots are coming at us? Oh, oh, what if we get lost?”

“No talking unless it’s an emergency.” Robby amended, then paused. “And if it’s not an emergency, it has to be a really quiet whisper.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Twitch perked up, saluting. Bumblebee had taught them that move just the other week, and it was now one of their new favorite poses.

“Ready and quieted, captain!” Thrash mimicked the pose, jumping to his pedes.

“We still have half an hour before Bumblebee usually goes into recharge.” Robby reminded.

“Oh, can we practice ninja moves till then?” Twitch grinned.

“Absolutely!” Mo answered first, and Robby just sighed.

Bumblebee, unlike the Terrans, had no set sleeping place.

He had a few favorites, they’d learned. Sometimes it was in the barn with the Terrans (usually on nights he didn’t feel he needed a lot of sleep), sometimes it was in his alt form somewhere near the house, once it was in the garage, and other times it was just in the forest, or right next to the barn, where he could keep an eye on everyone.

Tonight, he was sleeping next to the barn. Perfect.

The barn was old, so it had a few holes in it. At bedtime, Robby and Mo went into their rooms and waited about ten minutes. Once they were sure the coast was clear, they opened up their windows to where Thrash and Twitch were waiting below (having also pretended to be recharging, but they snuck right back out at the five minute mark instead), and slid off the roof to be caught by them before they possibly broke a leg.

Twitch started opening her mouth, but Mo was quick to shush her. Twitch nodded once, comically shifting into her ‘stealth mode’ and crouching, holding Robby on her shoulders. Thrash tucked Mo under his arm like a football and hurried off back to the barn, Twitch following.

They slipped back through the open barn doors, deciding to leave them open a crack to avoid the noise of closing it again. They all hurried into the loft, using the hay to muffle their sounds. The Terrans had to be shushed a few times, but otherwise it was a near-perfect mission so far.

Robby pushed aside the hay, looking for the cracks in the wood till he found one. He pressed his eye up to it, searching.

Bumblebee’s alt form was still there, resting soundly.

“When does he usually leave, again?” Robby whispered, very quiet.

“Oh, it's—” Thrash remembered to quiet his voice half a second later, crouching down, “somewhere around midnight, usually.”

“Are you serious?” Robby whispered, whirling around. “That’s, like, three hours from now!”

“Do you think we could ask him about it again?” Twitch whispered, quite loudly. But a whisper nonetheless.

“No, no, just,” Robby sighed, then lounged back into the hay, “just get comfortable.”

In the end, they nearly slept through the whole thing.

Thrash was right, in fact, he was nearly exactly right. Unsurprisingly, it was Twitch who shook everyone when Bumblebee finally moved, because when given a mission, she could probably stay awake for an entire fortnight if needed.

Robby and Thrash startled out of their half-awake state (and Mo out of her fully-asleep slumber) to Twitch’s shoving, whispering frantically.

“He’s moving, he’s moving, he’s moving!” She was nearly stage-whispering at this point. 

Robby smacked at her arm to get her to keep quiet, hurrying over to peer through the wood. Mo took a second longer to wake up. Thrash nearly fell to the ground floor.

Sure enough, Robby looked out just in time to see Bumblebee transforming out of his alt mode, albeit much slower than usual. He was being decidedly careful. 

Bumblebee looked around a moment, watching warily. He crept along the side of the barn, poking his head around it. Mo got sight of him just in time to realize he was checking the perimeter before nodding once to himself and stepping back around the barn.

Robby made a signal with his hands for the others to move out. Bumblebee was making to creep off towards the forest. It was impossible for Cybertronian’s to be completely silent, they were made of freakin’ metal, but it was honestly surprising how quiet they could be when they were really trying. 

Then again, Bumblebee wasn’t the size of Optimus Prime.

Twitch transformed into her alt mode, flying with a quick buzz from the hayloft. Robby and Mo quickly dropped down into piles of hay to soften the landing, Thrash following suit. 

It was a little hassle, trying to get out of the barn stealthily. But they somehow managed, Twitch flying ahead to keep track of Bumblebee. For someone who was bright yellow, he snuck around quite well. Scout training, or something. They should probably pay more attention to that kind of stuff.

Bumblebee clearly wasn’t worried about someone following him. Made sense, nobody had followed him for however long he was doing this. Still, Mo and Thrash shared a glance that said they would totally mock Bumblebee about being a lazy scout when they solved this mystery.

Twitch vanished from sight on occasion, before doubling back and leading them down a new route. The rest of them were far enough away that even they sometimes lost sight of Bumblebee, letting Twitch do most of the tracking. She was clearly excited to do so.

Finally, Twitch flew back to them, about ten minutes into their walk, buzzing in a jittery sort of way.

“He’s at the silo!” She loudly hushed, flying a few circles before darting off. “C’mon, c’mon!” 

Robby and Mo glanced at each other, confused, then followed. Thrash tried not to trip on a root.

There was a lot of empty ground around their home, land that either wasn’t in use or had long since been abandoned. Most of it was farmland that either had the misfortune of nobody in the family sticking around to keep caring for the place, or moving out. When the kids had gotten bored, they drove around a few times just to see what there was.

And about a ten-to-fifteen minute walk from their house was a number of old, abandoned silos. They were empty, and connected to a few decrepit buildings that had seen better days. Their mom had warned them not to play near the place because of falling parts or wild animals hiding in there.

And when they broke the treeline, Bumblebee was going right for them. 

They stayed further back (although Twitch had to be yanked by the wing) due to a lack of cover on the open ground. But it meant they could more easily see Bumblebee was unlatching something from himself, a comm of some sort, tapping away at it as he walked.

With a hand movement from Mo, the four of them all scurried off to hide behind one of the silos Bumblebee was rounding on. When Thrash peeked to see where he was going off to, he was surprised to see Bumblebee hadn’t come around the other side.

A soft thump alerted them to what was going on.

Bumblebee wasn’t walking past, into, or anywhere beyond the silos. He was taking a seat right in front of one, still typing at his comm. The one they were hiding behind.

“What’s he doing?” Twitch loudly whispered, beginning to transform out of her mode.

“Quiet, quiet!” Mo shushed with a whisper. Twitch paused halfway through before slowly making a point of continuing. 

Robby tried peeking around the silo, getting a view of Bumblebee’s side, typing away. He didn’t seem to be stressed, jumpy, anything of the sort. He was just…sitting out by a silo, in the middle of the night, completely silent.

Robby gave Mo a look. It was the one that said this was a complete waste of time.

Bumblebee typed a few more times, then leaned back. The silo creaked with the extra weight, making the four kids startle before it resettled. Bumblebee’s knees bent, and he set the comm down on one knee. He typed once more, and a holographic screen popped up.

Twitch leaned a bit too far forward, nearly smothering Thrash as she tried to take a look at the screen.

The comm was making a soft ringing noise.

Bumblebee was…making a call. If they squinted, they could see the call was to someone named… Voice? Who the heck named their contacts like that? 

“Who’s that?” Thrash whispered.

“How should I know?” Robby retorted.

Bumblebee tapped his foot, clinking softly. Here was a tiny show of nervousness, crossing his arms and staring intently at the screen as it rang. Already a few theories were forming in the kids minds—another Autobot? Maybe someone in hiding? A secret call to Optimus Prime? A Decepticon?

Probably not a Decepticon. But imagine if it was.

Then, suddenly, it clicked through.

All four of them leaned dangerously forward. Bumblebee cleared his throat.

And the hologram patched through to…a woman.

A normal, thirty-something year old white woman with unkempt, brown hair. She had smears of what looked like grease or oil on her face, in a ratty t-shirt that looked like it might’ve been from some band. She was grinning.

Mo’s eyes flicked to Bumblebee, and so she was the first one to catch the immediate shift. How Bumblebee seemed to relax and yet tried to straighten at the same time—and the wide, giddy smile splitting his face.

The time was 12:01.

“You couldn’t give me two minutes to wash up?” The woman scoffed good-naturedly, voice a little staticky through the call. “It’s not the end of the world if we’re a little late, you know.”

“I like to keep a schedule.” Bumblebee chuckled, and that smile never left. It was so surprising the others were noticing it, too. “You can go wash up now, you just get to talk while you do it.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you.” The woman muttered under her breath, then flickered on the screen, probably taking her own comm somewhere as she walked. “You look a bit dusty, Bee. I’m telling you, a car wash wouldn’t hurt.”

“First of all, who’d drive me in? Second of all, yeah, I sure love getting pummeled on every surface.” Bumblebee scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not the same as a good wash.”

“You are so spoiled.” The woman laughed, setting the comm down and stepping to the side, leaning forward. Nothing else was shown in the hologram, but she seemed to be using a sink from the faint sounds, splashing some on her face. “I can’t believe I made a pompous, prissy alien.”

“I am not spoiled.” Bumblebee complained, slumping down a bit. Thrash and Twitch gave each other bewildered expressions. “Mirage is spoiled.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” The woman teased, grinning back at the screen. Bumblebee’s mouth twitched. “How’s it across the country?”

Now, Robby and Mo gave each other wide looks. Across the country? Did she know their location? But it was Bumblebee, after all, so the biggest surprise was who this woman was if Bumblebee was telling her that kind of information.

“People are a bit less friendly,” Bumblebee smirked a little, “compared to your general place, of course.”

“My ‘general place’,” The woman raised a brow, “I really don’t think the censoring is necessary anymore, Bee.”

“Security measures.” Bumblebee protested. “What if someone goes through the calls before I delete them? Or is tapping into it right now?”

The four kids silently ducked further behind the silo.

“Bee, they probably would’ve done so by now. Besides,” The woman stepped back, grabbing something that may have been a towel, since she started dabbing at her face, “if Sector Seven thought I wasn’t worth keeping an eye on, I don’t think anyone else will, either.”

“You don’t know.” Bumblebee mumbled, in a voice that said he wasn’t putting much effort into it.

“Alright, alright. So, you’re meeting a lot of assholes, then?” The woman teased. Robby clapped his hands over Mo’s ears, to which she struggled in protest. Thrash and Twitch mouthed the new word to each other in confusion. 

“I just said they weren’t as friendly, not that they weren’t.” Bumblebee muttered. “Only had one person insist I get taken for a spin.”

“Damn, really?” The woman whistled in awe. “Just the one? Either they know how to mind their own business, or nobody there appreciates the beauty of a racing Ford.”

“Uh huh, yeah,” Bumblebee loudly cleared his throat, oh my God was he embarrassed, readjusting, “so, how’s work?”

“Same as ever, come on,” The woman huffed, then took the comm again, face clean of grease, “you’ve got way more interesting stories to tell me.”

“I still like hearing about you.” Bumblebee borderline pouted (Robby frantically patted at Thrash’s arm until his eyes flicked and he started recording, something they’d only recently learned he could do). “What about O?”

The woman leveled Bumblebee with a look.

“Alright, alright, yeah,” Bumblebee sighed, then smiled, “sorry, did Otis get into that tournament?”

“Course he did, he’d kill someone otherwise.” The woman snorted, taking a seat somewhere and leaning close to the camera to adjust where it was placed. “It's terrifying when your little brother can actually kick your ass now.”

“He’s been bigger than you for a while.” Bumblebee reminded.

“Ugh, I know, hate it.” She leaned forward on whatever table, resting her chin on her crossed arms. She had a little cheery glint in her eye. “How are those students of yours?”

The kids all straightened. 

“Kids are so much work. ” Bumblebee groaned, thunking his head back on the silo, optics closing. 

“Yeah, and Mom wonders why I’m not havin’ any.”

“I really do think you’d like them, though.” Bumblebee cracked open an optic. “They’d remind you of Otis. Younger Otis.”

“That doesn’t actually make them sound appealing.”

“An Otis who isn’t a snitch, then.” Bumblebee chuckled. “They’re…bright.” He said, astoundingly fond. “In a lot of ways. Too much so, probably. Still want to do the right thing.” He let it hang for a moment. The kids all glanced at each other, feeling a moment of pride. “Terrible at lying, though.” He added with a snort, and the pride dissipated on the wind.

“You’ll teach them how to fix that right up, huh?” The woman teased, sitting up so her cheek was now on her fist. 

“Hey now…”

“No, no, you’re a great liar.” Her grin widened. “Why, so much so I’d say you’ve never lied, but that can’t be true. You’re amazing at it.”

“You should see when Bulkhead tries to lie, he’s worse!” Bumblebee complained, streating out the leg that didn’t have the comm on it.

“I’d love to.” The woman said, a slightly different, almost wistful tone. “He sounds fun, when you know him for longer than a minute.”

Bumblebee opened his mouth. Closed it. There was something conflicted in his expression, something hesitant and twisted. He cringed a moment, tried speaking again, then gave up. He let out a vent of air, slouching a little.

The woman glanced away from the screen, also appearing a bit torn herself, possibly guilty. It made Robby and Mo quite uncomfortable to witness, remembering times during extended family functions when one of the adults would get into some argument and it felt all weird.

Momentary, awkward silence hung.

“How can they look into my eyes, and they still don’t believe me?”

Twitch started forward before Robby eased her back. That wasn’t someone new, that was… music.

Coming from Bumblebee.

Sure, Bumblebee could transform into a car, but they didn’t know he could actually play music on a whim, that his radio actually worked. But here he was, glancing at the ground, then back at the camera, with a slightly upbeat-tune song playing.

“How can they hear me say those words, still they don’t believe me?”

The woman’s mouth twitched up a little, eyes moving back to the screen. She was clearly failing the fight against a smile.

“And if they don’t believe me now, will they ever, will they ever believe me?”

“You know I understand, come on now, you’re playing dirty.” The woman scoffed, lowering her hand from her cheek. She didn’t seem very upset.

“Behind // zzt // a plundering desire for love /// bzzt // who do you need to know?” The song started switching up, like hitting the fast forward button really fast. Bumblebee had a little shy-like smile on his face. They seemed to both be feeling better.

“That old radio sounds awful.” She said bluntly. “Did you ever get that thing tuned?”

“Why would I?” Bumblebee blinked. “It sounds fine to me.”

“Well, sure, but it sounds a bit…staticky, doesn’t it? Little rough around the edges.” She tilted her hand.

“I think it fits me pretty well, then.” Bumblebee gave a grin that was nearly coy. The woman rolled her eyes, amused.

“You’re such a dork.” The woman huffed, soft. “Just don’t let that thing get too worn out, yeah?”

“I know who to go to get it fixed.” Bumblebee said, also suddenly quite soft, leaning closer to the screen. “It’d be a nice excuse to come out there.” 

“Don’t even start.” The woman said gently. “You’ve got fine enough medics over there, you know you’d never make it here.”

“Haven’t heard from them in a while, you never know.” Bumblebee insisted, but it didn't sound like he really believed it.

“You’d wish a real medic got to you.” The woman warned, pointing a finger. “I might just make you stay put for once.”

“I’m alright with that.” Bumblebee said, coming out breathy, optics so glued to the screen he might have missed a bomb go off.

Robby shifted, stepping back a little. All of a sudden, it felt awkward to be watching this. It kinda reminded him of the grossness he felt when his parents got mushy in the kitchen.

The woman held up her hand to the screen, extending a finger. Bumblebee chuffed a little, then extended his own, the two ‘touching’ through the screen. Kinda like E.T. if you asked Mo.

“The garage is always open.” The woman murmured, glancing at their hands.

“I know.” Bumblebee leaned back a little. He seemed sad, then brushed it off. “Hey—”

BRIIINNNG!

Thrash jumped and banged his arm against the silo. By the grace of God, Bumblebee missed this, because he also banged his helm on the back of the silo at the sudden noise.

“Are you—?”

“Sorry, sorry, I just—” Bumblebee waved off the woman, tapping at his comm, showing another person was calling. This one was simply called Wicky.

Bumblebee stiffened a moment, fumbling. He glanced all over the screen, then back at the woman, then everywhere again.

“Charlie, I…” He waved a servo uselessly. “I’m sorry, this is…I have to, it could be an emergency…”

“I know, Bug.” The woman—Charlie—smiled. It seemed a bit sad. Mo silently mouthed Bug to herself in confusion. “Go be a hero. I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah,” Bumblebee vented, sounding guilty, “see you.”

He ended the call. In the same breath, without missing a beat, he opened up the new line. The four kids immediately all ducked their whole bodies behind the silo when Dorothy Malto appeared on screen.

“Bumblebee, where are you?” They heard her demand. Robby was making frantic hand gestures for everyone to stay quiet. 

“I’m just out on patrol.” Bumblebee lied through his metal teeth, and they heard the sound of him standing. “What happened?”

“I can’t find the kids.” Dot said, and all four of them froze like statues. “Mo left her lamp on so I went in to tell her to go to sleep, but she’s gone. So’s Robby, and the barn is empty.”

Bumblebee hissed something under his breath, probably a swear. They heard the clomp of his pedes as he began walking. Thrash peeked out to see he was hurrying back from the way he came.

“They’re probably on some night hunt, or something.” Bumblebee said, but he sounded tense, voice fading as he departed. “I’m sure they haven’t gone far.”

No one said a word, listening to Bumblebee leave. They stayed silent a moment more once his voice and footsteps faded into the distance.

“We’re so screwed.” Robby groaned.

“Okay gang, quick,” Mo clapped her hands together, “what’s a really weird place we could go on a random night hunt?”

“Won’t we get grounded if we’re doing that?” Thrash worried.

“Well, we’re already gone, might as well make it look like normal rule breaking instead of snooping.” Robby sighed.

“Ooh, oh, what if,” Twitch held out her hands, “we were practicing our night scouting? Just like Bumblebee!” 

“That’s better how?” Robby turned.

“Well,” Twitch shrugged, “we were doing what Bumblebee would do?”

“I’ll take it.” Mo grinned, standing up. “Alright, team, let’s get our poker faces on.”

“What’s poker?” Thrash asked.

“I dunno, but Dad says Mom has a great face for it.”

After receiving a week's grounding for sneaking off without telling anyone, getting a semi-normal night's rest, going to school, coming back for homework, finally, they got to talk about ‘it’. 

Because Thrash and Twitch perched themselves by the window outside Robby’s window without any preamble, and Mo slipped in. They weren’t in the house, therefore it was allowed.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Robby said, staring at the ceiling from laying flat on his bed. “We don’t know anyone named Charlie.”

“I didn’t know Bumblebee could talk to any humans.” Thrash added, resting his chin on his crossed arms. Twitch was being annoying by leaning her full weight on his side since he was taking up the window place. 

“He can’t.” Mo frowned, sitting up with crossed legs. “He’s supposed to be hiding.”

“That liar!” Twitch scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Well, we know she’s definitely not with G.H.O.S.T.” Robby raised his hand, counting off his fingers. “She might not even be someone our parents know, and Bumblebee seems like he’s keeping her a secret.”

“I bet he accidentally got caught.” Mo pointed her finger as an idea struck. “He was found out while in hiding, and then he made her promise not to tell anyone.”

“And, what, she’s blackmailing him?” Robby scoffed. “They didn’t talk like it was a blackmail situation.”

“Do you think,” Twitch leaned way over Thrash’s head, “Bumblebee has friends?” She gasped. To be fair, to them, that was certainly a surprise. Arcee was the only one they’d seen to be friendly with Bumblebee—Optimus and Megatron not counting, because they tried to be nice to everybody.

“But why hide her?” Robby pressed. “Bumblebee wouldn’t have a secret human friend, would he? Optimus would understand.”

“I dunno,” Thrash frowned, “Optimus is pretty strict about the no-human-contact thing. Maybe Bumblebee thought he’d get in trouble.”

“But Bumblebee follows the rules!” Twitch protested. “He wouldn’t break them.”

“Maybe he’s more of a troublemaker than we thought.” Mo was grinning at the mere thought. “Did she really call him Bug?”

“I thought I was hallucinating.” Thrash admitted. “Nobody calls Bumblebee ‘ Bug’.”

“Charlie does.” Robby couldn’t help snickering. “Maybe Bumblebee’s hiding her cause she’d embarrass him.”

“Arcee embarrasses Bumblebee.” Twitch offered.

“You couldn’t hide Arcee if you tried.” 

“I can’t believe we’re hiding a secret with Bumblebee.” Mo was positively delighted. “And he doesn’t even know we’re helping him hide it!”

“Are we helping him, really?” Robby raised a brow. “Twitch, Thrash, if it wasn’t already obvious, do not tell anyone, not even Bumblebee, that we know about Charlie. Whoever she is.”

“Maybe Bumblebee has a secret network of humans.” Twitch tried conspiratorially. “Ones not even Optimus knows about.”

“Let’s keep it small, Twitch.” Robby said lightly. 

“Wasn’t staying up worth it?” Mo knocked into her brother’s side. “Now we know Bumblebee has a secret!”

“A really weird secret.” Robby snorted, but he was smiling, too. “You think we might get to meet this mystery person someday?”

“Knowing Bumblebee?” Mo snorted. “We’d probably have to drag it out of him.”

Chapter Text

Then the Mandroid Incident happened. 

Nobody really cared about secrets by then.

Between the seeker attack, the new Terrans, the brief kidnapping, the Mandroid battle as a whole, everything was a bit of…a mess, to put it lightly. And when the dust finally settled and made it home (or to their new homes), there became something a little obvious.

“It’ll mend itself on its own eventually, Optimus.”

“Not fast enough.” Optimus muttered, arms crossed as he narrowed his optics. “This is the kind of injury we need a medic for, to repair your parts.”

“If you think,” Megatron growled, “I’m letting G.H.O.S.T. anywhere near me—”

“You are being needlessly stubborn.” Optimus didn’t snap, but he was sure annoyed. “G.H.O.S.T. has helped me before.”

“Are any of them medics for living metal?” Megatron snapped. “Maybe they can patch up a scrape or two, maybe pop a dent, but have they ever dealt with an arm nearly ripped off its hinges?”

Optimus cringed a moment. Bumblebee, having been standing at the barn doors this whole time, shifted awkwardly, optics going literally anywhere else. Dot leaned against his leg, very tired of this whole debacle.

They’d been at this for a while.

“You said it wasn’t that bad.” Optimus accused weakly.

“We were in a battlefield, and you worry so much I can hear your gears creak with it.” Megatron sniffed. 

“You lied, then.”

“Do not give me that disappointed look, you absolute protoform.”

“We know Wheeljack is in the area.” Bumblebee offered meekly, raising a servo. “Maybe he could help?”

“Perhaps,” Optimus turned immediately, thoughtful. “Though it may take some time to hail him. Only the Allspark knows how far he could travel in a night alone.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have a single Autobot medic on speed dial?” Dot raised a brow, very judgmentally. 

“Well,” Bumblebee hesitated, “a bunch of Autobots scattering to the wind does that to you…most of the time the best we have is hailing them over the radio. But that’s within…a two hundred mile radius?”

“Two hundred—that's just short of the entire width of Pennsylvania !” Dot whirled her head up to him. “Hail them, see if anyone responds.”

“It runs the risk of a ‘Con intercepting the call.” Bumblebee stiffened. “And I’m not doing that.”

“Not even for me?” Megatron snarked.

“Don’t make me answer that.” Bumblebee deadpanned back.

“Minerva may not be far,” Optimus hummed thoughtfully. “Ratchet is preferable, but…”

“Ratchet is always preferable.” Bumblebee scoffed. “But no way we’re getting him.”

“Too far away?” Dot guessed.

“He’s, uh,” Bumblebee glanced at the two Cybertronians, “he’s a little grumpy right now."

“That’s your main medic, he’s always grumpy.” Megatron rolled his optics.

“Ratchet had some concerns with G.H.O.S.T.” Optimus said, a tad stiffly. “As far as I’m aware, he’s decided to find our friends and offer his services to them while I work here. He has expressed he'd like to remain that way."

“AndfindDrift.” Bumblebee coughed into his fist.

“You’re joking.” Megatron stared at Optimus a moment, then cackled. “Your own medic brought up concerns with G.H.O.S.T, and you’re still working with them?”

“Ratchet understood it was the best option we have right now. This does not mean he liked said option.” Optimus bristled. “I’ve no doubt that if there were ever a true emergency where we needed him, he’d come within the minute.”

“Ratchet can’t stay that mad at Optimus for long.” Bumblebee agreed. He then leaned down and whispered to Dot, “Probably why he left, he knew he’d get stuck with all this way too easily.”

“So we have no medic, no safe way to contact them if they are around, and no humans who know what the hell they’re doing.” Megatron summarized. “So then we’re back at square one, like I said. I will heal on my own just fine.”

“I’m not comfortable with that.” Optimus gruffed.

“You’re never comfortable.” Megatron scoffed, looking away. “It’s like you're permanently walking with a tree up your aft.”

“Okay, so, tough situation.” Bumblebee stepped forward, servos out. “Let’s just try and get Wheeljack, huh? Let’s focus on that first, then, just, you know, go down the line. And stuff.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Dot said, only slightly amused. When Megatron opened his mouth, she pointed a finger at him. “Enough, I’m not listening to you argue all day. Besides, the kids will be home soon.”

“A relief for Alex, I’m sure.” Bumblebee snorted, leaning to the side to peer out the barn doors. “How’d he entertain five Terrans for that long?” 

“It’s a gift.” Dot smiled, also leaning out. 

In the distance, by the house, they could see Alex sitting on an old pile of hay, talking to a seated audience of Terrans. It was a welcome difference from the running around or drawing with sticks they’d seen earlier. The Terrans were absolutely enraptured with whatever story he was telling.

Dot frowned. A beat later, so did Bumblebee.

“You’re counting three, right?” Dot asked.

“Yeah, I’m counting three.” Bumblebee was already walking out. “Hang tight.”

“What’s the phrase?” Megatron hummed from in the barn. “Like herding cats?”

“Perhaps you should try it sometime.” Optimus muttered. “You have experience with Ravage.”

“Ravage is Soundwave’s pet, no one else's. I value my servos intact.”

Dot rolled her eyes and followed Bumblebee out. She’d rather not listen to those two go at each other again. It’d be concerning if she hadn’t learned this was more or less how they bonded.

“And then,” They could hear Alex saying, “Knockout and Breakdown found them.”

“No!” Hashtag and Jawbreaker jerked forward.

“Oh no,” Nightshade curled their head into their bent knees. 

“They were cornered,” Alex went on, clearly having the time of his life, “with nowhere to go, and no help to—”

“Alex.” Dot called.

“Oh, yes?” Alex cut off instantly, sitting up.

“Wait, wait!” Hashtag was nearly landing on top of Alex, begging. “What happened next? Did the Autobots make it?”

“They made it.” Bumblebee came to a stop, servo on his hips. “Alex, where’s Thrash and Twitch?”

“Oh, Twitch offered to fill in the holes the new Terrans made when they were running around earlier.” Alex said cheerfully. He glanced at the gathered group again. “...I’m not sure where Thrash is.”

“Of course,” Bumblebee sighed, already turning and walking away.

“Alex.”

“He was here when I started the story!” Alex protested. “He can’t have gone very far, he’s probably helping Twitch or…Bumblebee? That’s not where Twitch went…”

“I know.” Bumblebee called over his shoulder. “And I know she’s not filling in holes.” 

He transformed into his alt mode, opening his door in invitation. Dot sighed, then followed after. “Just keep an eye on the Terrans we have now.”

“Sorry, honey!” Alex called, cringing.

“Ooo, can we come with?” Jawbreaker stood. “We could find them really fast!”

“Sorry, but let's at least wait until you have alt modes.” Dot said with a smile, sliding into Bumblebee’s driver's seat. “Come on, Bee.”

“You’re gonna get in troubleeee,” Played over the radio as Bumblebee shut his door and began speeding down the dirt road. “Heyyaaaaa, heyyaaaa—”

And he screeched to a stop. 

Because the kids were pulling up into the driveway, the literal second Bumblebee began to take off. With Robby and Mo riding in Thrash’s alt mode, Twitch flying overhead.

“Of course,” Dot sighed, pushing open Bumblebee’s door again. “Kids.”

“Oh, hey, Mom!” Robby was off Thrash in a flash, Mo cringing down with a sheepish smile. “Made it home from school! When’d you get here? How’s Megatron?”

Dot stood in front of them and crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed further.

The kids shrank.

“No one caught us.” Twitch mumbled, transforming out of her alt mode.

“But they could have.” Bumblebee transformed out already. He was ignoring the other Terrans waving wildly to greet their siblings behind him. “Kids, look,” He sighed, crouching, “I understand you want to keep each other safe after the Mandroid thing, but it's not worth almost getting yourselves caught. You’re putting yourselves in more danger, not preventing it.”

“We were preventing plenty today!” Twitch protested. “We just dealt with bullies!”

“They weren’t bullies.” Robby cut in quickly. “Just—the normal, annoying kids at school.”

“They were rude, though.” Mo said, stepping out of her seat. “They were messing with Thrash!”

“Why did you let kids get close enough to mess with you?” Bumblebee pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Wazzzzzzznn’t tryin’,” Thrash mumbled, the first words he’d said. They were groggy and slow.

“He was just in the parking lot, minding his business, when these jerk kids started messing with all the cars!” Twitch exclaimed, full of righteous anger. “Nails under the tires, throwing dirt all over the windshields—”

“They were just bored, Thrash sped us off. We were fine, they barely touched him.” Robby said quickly. He hunched his shoulders. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Kids,” Dot sighed, “look, just…go inside, do your homework. If you’re going to pull something like this, you can’t just vanish when nobody knows where to find you.”

“You’d never let us go anyway.” Twitch crossed her arms.

“For a good reason.” Bumblebee said, standing back up. “The first real battles are rough on everyone, I know.” He placed a servo to his chassis. “But there are much better things you can do to keep each other safe.” He deflated a minute, then waved them off. “Just…go ask Alex what your new chores are, you’re getting to work this instant.”

Twitch glared, but muttered under her breath and stomped off to Alex all the same. The other Terrans still greeted her cheerfully, and she seemed to feel a little better instantly. Robby and Mo huddled together and trudged off to the house, Robby with a hand pressed a little tight against his chest.

Then, Thrash transformed out.

It was…odd. Slow and disjointed, with some odd creaking sound. Bumblebee watched with a wary eye as Thrash slowly came back into his normal self, immediately hunching over and clutching his stomach. Then gave a thumbs up.

“Yeah, sure,” Thrash mumbled out, “can I…can I sit down for a minute, first?” 

“You feelin’ alright?” Dot stepped forward.

“Everything kinda hurts a little.” Thrash hunched over. 

“Go lay down in the barn. Megatron and Optimus are due to leave soon, anyway.” Bumblebee said, gently placing a servo on Thrash’s shoulder. “Probably just stress tightening up some gears. But you're going to work later.” He warned.

“Mhmm,” Thrash mumbled, slowly hobbling over to the barn.

Dot watched him go for a moment, then sighed and shook her head. Bumblebee met her eye, but she waved him off and moved to go talk with her kids in the house.

Bumblebee just let his shoulders slump, and went off to have a talk with Twitch.

“Bumblebee.”

“Hmm?” Bumblebee hummed over his shoulder, then did a double take and straightened. “Optimus, sir.” He turned fully away from where Twitch was being made to carefully clip off every dead branch on the old trees, much to her impatience. “I thought you and Megatron left already?”

“I sent him off, I wanted to speak with the Terrans more.” Optimus said. “Have you seen Thrash?”

“...he snuck off again.” Bumblebee summarized.

“Oh, no, he’s still in the barn.” Optimus corrected. “Just…have you seen the state of him?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bumblebee turned back to observe Twitch. Alex was already doing a fine enough job on that front, though, “he wasn’t feeling well. I told him to recharge it off hours ago.” He glanced up at the sky. Late dusk, nearly fully dark. “He’s still not feeling any better?”

“I think he may have a bug.” Optimus said, which caught Bumblebee’s interest immediately. “We’ve both seen Cybertronians ill with stress, this is not it. I suggested some exercise, but it doesn’t seem to have helped.”

“Should he have been over exerting himself when he wasn’t feeling well, sir?” Bumblebee ventured.

“If it was stress locking him up, exercise should’ve loosened it.” Optimus said patiently. Bumblebee tried not to cringe a little. “I’m sorry, I thought my advice would have helped him.”

“No, no—” Bumblebee turned quickly, then sighed. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Update us if you learn anything.” Optimus said as he left.

Truthfully, a bug wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sometimes stress could lead to Cybertronians venting more frequently, letting in all sorts of things. He still recalled Mirage having such a freak-out over getting stuck in a swamp that he let in all kinds of insects, which got lodged all in his gears.

He was sympathetic, of course, but it was also Mirage, so a panic such as that was less in the ‘war veteran’ way and more of the ‘oh Allspark, I’m disgusting’ way.

It was an odd tightening in his chest, thinking about how much the battle could have affected the kids. He remembered his first real fight. It was different, he was created after the war had already begun, but…yeah, nothing beat the terror of a first fight, of first death. Or the first explosion that rocked you to the ground…

Anyway, Thrash.

Bumblebee pushed open the barn doors, peering inside. It was dark, as per usual, and cleared out. Faintly, he could see a glow of blue in the far corner, in a pile of hay.

“Thrash?” He called, walking in. “Hey, heard you aren’t feeling much better.”

Thrash made a low groaning sound, curling into a ball as Bumblebee approached, laying on his side. A faint click sound could be heard among his insides as he moved.

“S’all bad.” Thrash mumbled.

“Can you be more descriptive?” Bumblebee took a slow seat on the floor next to him. “Like, are you coughing? Do you feel…fragile? Stiff? Anything sound like its…grinding?” 

“Somethin’s wrong.” Thrash croaked, and oh, the poor kid sounded absolutely miserable. Like a wounded puppy. “I think I juzzzzt wanna sleep…”

“I know, bud, I know.” Bumblebee said, feeling a twinge of guilt as he placed a servo over the Terran. “Just…anything in particular standing out?” 

“M’just tired.” Thrash mumbled, curling closer.

“...alright, kid, you recharge.” Bumblebee sighed, standing up. “I’ll check on you in the morning, yeah?”

Thrash didn’t respond, just closed his optics. Bumblebee sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before slowly creeping back out of the barn. Allspark, he was bad at this. 

Then again, were Ratchet here, he’d probably inspect Thrash head to toe, and Bumblebee knew from experience that such an endeavor was the last thing Thrash wanted right now.

Yeah, he’d check on him in the morning. He’d probably feel a little better by then.

Thrash was not better by morning.

Twitch had noticed Bumblebee vanish during that night, off to who-knows-where. She had an inkling of remembering some ‘Charlie’ before the other Terrans pulled her away to rest. They liked sleeping in a huge pile, which was awesome! She usually ended up sleeping on top of Thrash in the barn, but now she could be crushed and the crusher! 

Right, Thrash.

He wasn’t part of the sleeping pile, which was sad. But he wasn’t feeling well, so they left him alone. They’d mess with him in the morning.

Except, that morning, they woke up to Nightshade frantically poking all of them awake. 

“Guys, guys, guys!” Nightshade hissed. “Thrash isn’t waking up.” 

They would never know what a relief it was that none of the adults were there to hear Nightshade’s words. The heart palpitations they would’ve gotten from such a sentence might’ve killed them on the spot.

As it may, the Terrans just frowned.

“Ugh, he’s probably just tired.” Twitch muttered, getting up and stretching.

“I could wake him up.” Jawbreaker offered, grumbling as he pushed upright.

“But he just won’t!” Nightshade stressed. “I shook him so hard I heard rattling, and he won’t move!”

Twitch ignored Nightshade’s worrying, stomping over to where Thrash had curled up the other day. He was still in a ball, completely still.

“Thrash,” Twitch said, poking him.

Nothing.

Alright, then. Twitch took in a deep vent.

“Thrash!” She hollered with all her might, and shoved him.

Thrash fell off the hay with a clang!

“Owwww,” Came a soft, pathetic little whimper.

“Woohoo, go Twitch!” Hashtag cheered. 

“Are you feeling better?” Twitch asked, peering over the hay.

Thrash made a long, drawn out noise. Possibly ‘no’, but it was all garbled and slow. Kinda sounded like Robby’s computer when it was suddenly powered off mid-video by Mom when he was supposed to go to bed.

“Is he dead?” Jawbreaker fretted as Twitch hopped over the hay to crouch by her brother. Then there was a yelp as Nightshade chastised by smacking him upside the helm.

“Are you dead?” Twitch repeated, poking at Thrash’s face. “Or dying? Please don’t be dying.”

Thrash blearily cracked an optic. It was dull and flickering, he was clearly struggling to keep it open. There was a faint, strained whirring sound of his engine working to wake him up. It was sputtering, and his optic closed when his engine went quiet. Then he twitched (ha) when it tried to rumble back to life again.

Twitch felt an emotion she really hated—a pang of worry.

“Thrash?” She asked, quieter. “I was joking about the dying thing.”

“Mm’ire,” He mumbled, coming out broken. His engine sputtered again, and he jerked a little, concerning cracking and creaking noises coming from somewhere in his chassis. 

Twitch placed a hand over his chest, feeling the faint rumbling of his engine. It was weak, and clearly struggling.

“Twitch?” Hashtag called.

Twitch looked up, to their three siblings all watching from the other side of the barn, optics bright and curious.

She felt something heavy weigh underneath her armor.

“Where’s Mom?” She croaked.

It took less than ten minutes for the whole family to pack themselves into the barn.

Dot was glued to Thrash’s side the minute Nightshade was at their door, in a panic because Twitch was panicking. Alex was working on keeping the Terrans calm while Dot kept one hand firmly on Thrash and called Bumblebee, then Optimus. 

Robby and Mo heard the commotion, obviously, and soon enough they were sitting with the other Terrans, worriedly sending glances Thrash’s way every odd minute. They clearly weren’t feeling well either, thanks to their emotional bond, and thus didn’t put up a huge fuss.

Twitch refused to leave Thrash’s side, pacing around and talking a mile a minute about nothing at all.

Bumblebee arrived on the scene exactly one minute after he was called. He de-transformed and was across the barn in barely five seconds without a word.

“He’s barely conscious.” Was the first thing Dot said, voice low as Bumblebee crouched and placed a servo over the Terran. “The kids say they don’t feel right, either. Like there’s something heavy on their chests, hard to move fast.”

“Shit,” Bumblebee hissed under his breath, feeling the barely-there rumble of an engine. 

“Is he gonna be okay?” Twitch stressed, popping up. “He’s gonna be okay, right? He has to be okay. He—he’s just sick, right?” 

“Optimus will be here soon.” Is all Bumblebee said, then startled when Thrash’s optics finally fully opened.

“Hey, hey, easy.” Dot eased a hand over his cheek. Thrash whined and immediately leaned into it, face scrunched. He wasn’t being careful, as evidenced by Dot startling a little to not get her hand crushed under his helm. “How are you feeling?”

“Ow,” Thrash croaked.

“Yeah, yeah, I bet.” Bumblebee mumbled, keeping his servo where it was. “We’re gonna figure this out, alright?” 

Thrash just whined, and his optics flickered shut again, with a shudder from his chassis. Bumblebee frowned, then turned around. He still stayed right by Thrash’s side.

“Did you kids go anywhere weird the other day? Or a few days ago?” He asked, and all of the kids, human and Terrans alike, straightened. Alex turned as well. 

“Nowhere that we haven’t usually gone.” Mo shook her head, clutching her stomach and leaning against Jawbreaker’s side.

“You think something may have crawled under his armor?” Dot suggested.

“Could be.” Bumblebee glanced back. “Kup once got a lot of acorns stuck in him thanks to squirrels.”

“I think we’d notice if a squirrel got near us.” Hashtag huffed.

“Not if you were asleep. Besides, Kup’s bigger than you.” Bumblebee said simply. “I was thinking maybe some insect nest?” He turned to Dot. “I mean, I had that once.”

“You had bugs in you?” Twitch scrunched up her face, momentarily distracted. “Oh, is that why you—?”

“Does it always feel this awful?” Robby interrupted.

“...no, but…” Bumblebee fumbled for something, anything, optics darting. Alex and Dot shared a quick look. “Just…just if something got in him…”

“The only thing I can think of is those kids.” Mo mumbled, turning to rest her cheek on Jawbreaker’s side. “In the parking lot.”

“But they didn’t get anything dangerous near Thrash.” Robby protested. “We made sure of that.”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss anything?” Alex asked gently. 

“No, we saw when they got to Thrash.” Robby shook his head, eyelids a bit droopy.

“They just got him with some water, that’s it.” Mo agreed.

“That shouldn’t do anything, he doesn’t have any open holes for water to get in.” Bumblebee frowned. “They just sprayed him down? That doesn’t sound like—”

“No, in his, um, tank.” Robby corrected.

A second passed.

“What.” Bumblebee choked.

“They were, like, putting water in his gas tank? Just before we got him and sped off.” Robby said with a confused frown, glancing at Mo for confirmation. She nodded. “I didn't get it, but Thrash couldn’t leave without us and not blow his cover.”

Bumblebee and Dot stared. 

“How much water did they put in him.” Bumblebee got out.

“I dunno?” Mo shrugged, concern growing. “...why?”

Bumblebee and Dot then stared at each other. Their gazes went down to Thrash, shaking and struggling to power on.

Then the barn door was pushed open.

“I’m here,” Optimus rumbled. “How is he?”

“Hey,” Bumblebee was on his pedes in a millisecond, striding over quickly and snagging Optimus’s arm, “come with me for a second.” 

“What’s going on?” Twitch sprung up. “Bumblebee?”

“Bee?” Mo added as well.

“Is Thrash alright?” Nightshade stressed.

“Everythings fine,” Dot stood as well, quickly waving at Alex. He hurried over to take her space sitting beside Thrash. “We’re just going to talk for a minute, not enough room in here. Stay here.” She said, hurrying after the Autobots as they moved out around the side of the barn.

“Bumblebee?” Optimus blinked down at his scout until they were a good few feet away outside. “What are…?”

“Thrash’s engine is fucked.” Bumblebee hissed out, and his expression could only be described as manically freaking out.

“He’s gone nearly a full day with a gas tank filled with water.” Dot loudly whispered when she made it over to them.

“...oh.” Optimus’s optics flickered with a hint of panic. “But, the Terrans survive on water, and they—?”

“It was some specific water, remember?” Bumblebee began pacing in short lines. “And I don’t think that made their insides waterproof.”

“...and I told him to run around.” Optimus’s optics widened. He looked down at Dot. “Dorothy, I am so sorry, I had no idea his engine shouldn’t have been running at all—”

“You didn’t know, Optimus.” Dot patted his leg. “None of us did, the kids didn’t even think to tell us.”

“And now he may have a ruined engine.” Optimus stepped back, bringing up a servo to his chin and thinking. “By the Allspark, if Ratchet were here…”

“He’d kill you, yes, whatever, what are we supposed to do?” Bumblebee demanded frantically. “I have no damn idea if Wheeljack is qualified for this sort of thing, and I don't think this is the kind of situation where we can wait around until we find him!”

“Maybe we could take him to a mechanic?” Dot said thoughtfully, also a bit twitchy. “When he’s in alt mode, then they could fix him.”

“That’s too risky.” Optimus shook his head. “He’s never been to such a place before, and we don’t know how he’ll react. Too many things could go wrong.”

“We’d have to…drain the engine, right?” Dot tried. “I’m no mechanic, but I could probably figure out how to do that.”

“It’s more than that.” Bumblebee tapped his foot, thinking. “Our insides run hot, even when we recharge. The pumps would have to also be checked and drained before he rusts. And it’s not really easy to work on a Cybertronian when their engine is exposed.”

“Like trying to put antiseptics on an open wound.” Dot guessed.

“Sure, yeah,” Bumblebee dismissed. “We can’t go to G.H.O.S.T, none of us are medics or mechanics, we can’t afford to let newbies have a go at him, we…” He hesitated, something sparking behind his optics. Before he set his jaw and looked off to the side. 

Optimus looked at him for a moment, then off in thought. Dot saw when he twitched, optics flicking before he looked back at his friend.

“There’s this…” He started, then closed his mouth and looked away again.

“Bumblebee,” Optimus said, and it looked like he might’ve just had the same idea, “your…your friend, is she still a mechanic?”

Bumblebee stared at Optimus. Dot opened her mouth to ask what the hell the Prime was talking about.

“She…is,” He started, and for a split second there was something elated growing on his face—before it was suddenly slammed away in replace of dismay. “No, no, we can’t—you said we wouldn’t get her involved in any of this!”

“And I would still rather we didn’t.” Optimus stressed. “But right now, I don’t know who else we could get within a day’s time, and Thrash needs it.”

“I know he does, I know, I—” A conflicted expression struggled on Bumblebee’s face. “But you…I…” He slumped, like he already knew how this was going to turn out. “And what if she gets put on another government watchlist, huh?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dot startled.

“I promise, Bumblebee, I will do everything in my power to ensure she is as far removed from our situation as possible.” Optimus stressed, reaching out a servo to place on Bumblebee’s shoulder. “All we would ask is for her to help Thrash, maybe even Megatron, and then we send her home.”

“I…” Bumblebee seemed to be struggling for something to say, optics darting. “What…I mean, you said I had to cut contact with her while I was hiding, right? And I totally did that,” He fiddled his digits together, “because you said I should, so I’ve had zero interaction with her. I mean, who even knows if she’d still just…what, drop everything to come out here?”

“In my experience,” Optimus rumbled, “four years of silence isn’t usually enough for humans to drop their connections.” He said it almost a little fondly. “Come now, she hardly seems like the type to cut all ties like that.”

“Seriously, what the hell are you two talking about?” Dot snapped. “I’m right here!”

“Of course, my apologies.” Optimus looked down. “Bumblebee has an old friend that's a mechanic. She knows of our existence, so if we need some help…”

“She lives across the damn country.” Bumblebee protested, crossing his arms. “And–and what about the costs? She doesn’t make a lot of money as a mechanic!”

“That is true,” Optimus acquiesced, looking off in thought. “While I do not approve of it, I wonder if Megatron could—”

“We are not sending Megatron to—!” Bumblebee faltered, cutting himself off and stepping back, clearing his throat. Dot warily eyed him as Optimus dropped his servo from his shoulder. “I’m…I’m sure a regular flight would be fine.” He mumbled, glancing away.

“While this is sounding suspiciously intriguing,” Dot said, “if she’s across the country, that’s a six hour flight. Plus however many hours it’ll take for her to find a flight and get back from the airport. Do we have that kind of time?”

“True,” Optimus hummed thoughtfully.

Bumblebee shut his mouth a little tightly. He looked away, shifting his pedes. He looked conflicted. He started to speak again, then backed out. His cheeks puffed a little.

“Well…” He started.

“Bumblebee.” Optimus said. Bumblebee warily flicked his optics. “Is Charlie in California?” He narrowed his optics.

Bumblebee gave a sheepish smile.

“So, uh, back when I was hiding out with her,” He said slowly, “around this time, she said, um, she usually visits her brother…in Texas…”

“That’s a three hour flight!” Dot whirled. “Forget that, she could be here before today’s even over.”

“If she finds a flight by today. Can they even do that?” Bumblebee mumbled. 

“Would she not be willing to make the trip?” Optimus tilted his head.

“No, of course she would, she…” Bumblebee huffed. “She’d say yes. I know she would, she wouldn’t even think about it.” He mumbled, looking off. “Look, I…” He held up his servos. “I want to help Thrash, obviously, I just…” He stopped. He didn’t finish the thought.

Optimus gave such a sad, guilty expression. Bumblebee let out a bit of a loud vent, stepping back and running a servo over his helm, briefly grabbing at one of his horns.

“Everyone will be safe.” Optimus promised, quiet.

Soft clicking came from within Bumblebee’s chassis. Then, he slumped.

“Yeah, alright,” He sighed, as if the answer was ever going to be anything different, then shyly smiled, “it’d be nice to see her again, anyway.”

“You know how to contact her?” Optimus clarified.

“From our last contact—four years ago, yeah.” Bumblebee cleared his throat. 

“Do I not get a say in bringing a stranger to my home?” Dot narrowed her eyes. “How the hell does Bumblebee know some random mechanic from California?”

“It’s a long story.” Bumblebee said, looking off a moment with a smile, then down again. “But I promise, you can trust her. I do. With everything.” He said, like it filled his chassis completely to admit such a thing. “Thrash’ll be fine.” He said, wandering off and digging under a plate on his arm, producing a comm. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

Dot watched him go. Then, she looked up at Optimus, who was doing the same. He noticed her watching him.

“Her name is Charlie Watson.” Optimus explained without being asked. “Bumblebee owes her an immense debt, and so I owe her the very same. She is the reason he is still with us today.”

“That so,” Dot hummed, watching Bumblebee’s retreating back. “Never heard that story before.”

“She’s one of the few humans we’ve ensured never got too tangled in our war.” Optimus said, something longing there. “It is one of our few blessings, but…I know that Bumblebee has missed her.” He said, folding his arms behind his back.

Somewhere, just out of sight, a comm rang.

Chapter Text

In the end, Charlie Watson was expected to be on-scene no later than five in the afternoon. Just in time for dinner.

Three kids all straightened when they were told this, but Robby slapped a hand over Twitch’s mouth before anything was said. They were lucky that everyone was too busy to take note of the odd behavior.

“Bumblebee and Optimus say she's a friend, and a mechanic.” Dot explained to the rest of them. “If they trust her, then I suppose I should, too.”

Bumblebee spent all his time pacing outside the barn. He left for patrol, lasted about thirty minutes, then came back and paced again. Every once in a while his helm turned towards the road, his mouth opened, and then he closed it and resumed pacing. 

“Is she really that good with Autobots?” Mo ended up asking, hating being anywhere inside that barn with her sick brother, feeling it pulse throughout her.

“She’s brilliant with them.” Bumblebee glanced her way, a small smile on his face, servo by his chin. “She was brilliant when she was only eighteen, and she’s just gotten better over the years.”

“Was she, like, the team mechanic?” Mo asked, hands on her crossed legs.

“How is a mechanic any different from a medic?” Nightshade asked right after, startling Mo slightly as they came to take a seat beside her. Either they got curious, or they couldn’t handle being in the barn, either.

“No, no, we never got her involved with our work.” Bumblebee answered Mo first, both kids tracking him as he walked back and forth, back and forth. “I mean, she has helped before, but it was only…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. And, uh, well, I guess the difference is that Ratchet knows how to stop energon from bleeding everywhere, and specializes in Cybertronians.” He went on. “Charlie mainly fixes just cars for a living. Although she did say something about stopping an energon flow not being so different from a leaky pipe on a car…” He hummed thoughtfully.

“Do medics or mechanics know anything about Terrans?” Nightshade asked.

Bumblebee looked at them for a moment. His mouth twitched, and he looked away to avoid meeting their optics.

“I’m sure it's not that different.” He said, and resumed pacing.

Optimus eventually had to leave, choosing to check in on Megatron and try to contact any nearby Autobots, just in case. He gave Bumblebee a hefty pat on the shoulder before he left, and Bumblebee only somewhat acknowledged it, which was a first for him.

Somehow, Alex managed to coax the other Terrans out and into the old training courses Bumblebee had permanently set up. They were all terrible at it, but Bumblebee didn’t bother correcting them. Robby and Mo stayed by the barn, only difference being Alex eventually getting them comics and books to pass the time.

Twitch never went more than five feet from Thrash’s side. Dot didn’t leave the building.

“I should wait at the airport.” Bumblebee said, for the fourth time. “I mean, you–you never know. Sometimes these planes land early. And the traffic, whew—”

“Bumblebee,” Dot raised a brow, “she won’t land for another two hours.”

“It’s good to be prepared.” He protested, tapping his foot erratically. 

“What are you gonna do, sit in the parking lot before driving all the way back around to sit at the pick-up?” Dot scoffed, Robby glancing up from his comic to pay more attention. “People would notice a running car waiting where it’s not supposed to be. Trying to stay still in the parking lot isn't any different than here.”

“I can stay still.” Bumblebee protested, having not stood still for multiple hours.

“The airport is a forty minute drive.” Dot said, patient. “I suggest going to wait for her when she has thirty minutes till landing time. I’d personally go for twenty, but I don’t think you can handle that.”

Robby snorted. Then quickly pretended he was still reading his comic books.

“I guess,” Bumblebee mumbled, arms crossed as he stared off to the side. “She’ll recognize me, right?” 

“I mean,” Mo also looked up, “you’re a bright yellow car.”

“Changed alt forms since last meeting?” Dot guessed, looking him over.

“Well, no, alt form is the same, she–she knows that, but,” He cleared his throat, “I’ve had a few repairs since then.”

“Bee,” Dot sighed, “you’re a very unmistakable car. Frankly I consider it a relief G.H.O.S.T employs a bunch of idiots who just assume my husband is such a Bumblebee fanatic he’d design his car after you.”

“He would, though.” Robby pointed out.

“That would be his own car.” Dot corrected. “I ain’t driving that thing. No offense.”

“I just—there are lots of fancy cars, you know?” Bumblebee went on, showing no sign he noticed or cared. “We don’t know what kind of cars are gonna be there. I mean, I once saw a car with a Mirage-inspired paint job. Mirage.”

“Bee, she’ll find us.” Dot assured. “We’ll have a sign and everything.”

“But are you—wait, ‘us?’” Bumblebee paused.

“You think I’m gonna let you bring some stranger to my home before I even get a good look at her?” Dot scoffed. “I trust that she’s a good friend of y’alls, but I still wanna meet the woman. Besides, it’s been four years since you last saw her?” She clarified. “She can be someone who wants to help us and be someone who’s changed quite a bit.”

“Not that much.” Bumblebee muttered. Robby and Mo glanced at each other. 

“Alex will watch the kids, they should be able to handle themselves.” Dot continued. “Besides,” And her grin turned a bit mischievous, “I wanna take a good look at the lady who’s got you this worked up.”

“I’m not worked up.” Bumblebee muttered, and the kids subtly tried to see if they were imagining a flash of purple under his face. “What, a guy can’t be wondering about his friend?”

“We didn’t think you had friends.” Twitch finally said, not looking up from Thrash. And so, she missed the affronted expression Bumblebee was giving her. “None that weren’t a few Autobots.”

Dot laughed into her fist. Bumblebee just scoffed and stormed out to watch the Terrans on the training course. Robby and Mo weren’t so generous in hiding their giggles.

Bumblebee and Dot were on the road exactly thirty minutes before the alleged landing time. Because Bumblebee had zero chill.

Dot let Bumblebee drive them the whole way, understanding this was a Bot on a mission, and he would not be stopped. Alex barely got the message to watch over Thrash before Bumblebee was all but herding Dot into her seat and speeding off.

Dot let the silence hang, watching the scenery fly by. Bumblebee was definitely going a bit over the speed limit. To say nothing of his unnatural quietness.

“So,” Dot said once they hit the five minute mark, “who is this Charlie Watson?”

“Huh?” Bumblebee faltered, going out of lane for a moment before correcting. There were only a small handful of cars on the road now. “I…I told you? She’s—”

“A friend of yours who's a mechanic, yeah, that I know.” Dot interrupted. “I also hear she saved your life.”

“More than you know.” Bumblebee mumbled. 

“Tell me, then.” Dot lounged back in her seat.

“Look, like I said, it's a long story. Longer than the drive.” Bumblebee brushed it off. 

“Shorten it.”

“Oh for—alright, look, I was the first Autobot on Earth.” Bumblebee sighed, easily sliding into the next lane. “And I was tasked with setting up a base for the rest of the Bots. There were…complications.” There was a slight, strained flicker to his voice. “Point is, I don’t know if I could’ve made it out of that on my own. She helped us save the planet.” He paused, and it hung for a moment. “Well, I guess it was minimizing damages at best, really.” He added, quieter, guiltier.

Dot let it hang. Then she sighed, patting the steering wheel.

“Those thousands of lives that were saved by that ‘minimizing’, whatever it was,” Dot said, “I’m sure they could never express how grateful they are.”

“Yeah,” Bumblebee hummed, and softly, a song clicked over the radio. Too quiet for Dot to hear, but she thought she heard something about a coma. Rather morbid song, Bee, “I wish she’d believe that sometime.”

Dot didn’t press further.

It was a struggle and a half to convince Bumblebee to wait in the pickup lot. As if there was anything else he could be doing.

Really, the trouble was prying away from him. He kept insisting Dot know exactly what Charlie looked like, and what to say, and to mention he was there, wait, no, don’t say he’s there, or, maybe she should.

“I’ve got a sign with her name on it.” Dot said, slamming the door shut. “And if you come up, you come up.”

She left before he could complain more.

Dot knew it would be a bit of a wait, so she sat down and checked for any messages from her family or work. Nothing but a blurry picture Mo took of the new Terrans failing to play Jenga. It made her smile, just a bit.

Once the time hit that Charlie’s flight should’ve landed. She stood, cracked her back, and picked up her sign scribbled CHARLIE WATSON (of which Bumblebee insisted on checking for spelling errors, as if that was a difficult name), and got to standing with the other folks.

She saw some meet with groups of people, sometimes just the one. Some were clearly professional, others family happy to see each other. She smiled at a young girl embracing an older gentleman, and two other family members about his age pulling him in.

She’d had Robby while the war was still going on. It was nearing its end, in fact, everyone thought it was ending, but it took a sharp turn that made it last another four years. She remembered having about a year with Robby before she put herself back out there to fight.

And she remembered coming back home to a little boy who didn’t quite remember her, but she hugged tightly anyway. He’d have time to remember her again.

Dot jerked out of her memory when a new influx of people started rushing by. It was periodic, groups coming from their flights. She scanned the crowd with a keen eye. Thrash had been recharging long enough, she’d like her kid to be better sooner rather than later.

Then, she saw it.

She didn’t exactly have a picture of Charlie Watson, but people tend to notice when someone in a crowd stops short and stares right at you, clearly surprised.

And then the woman walked over, readjusting a backpack over her shoulder, wary.

The descriptions from Bumblebee matched. White, wavy brown hair that didn’t look like it’d been combed properly in a few days, somewhere in her mid-thirties, and wearing jeans and an old t-shirt that’d been well-loved, dragging a suitcase along with her.

No one of remarkable note. 

“Charlie?” Dot guessed.

“Uh, I guess.” Charlie eyed her. She had a rough edge to her voice. “I didn’t realize I’d have someone waitin’ for me.”

“I’m Dorothy Malto.” Dot said, holding out a hand. Charlie only hesitated a moment before shaking it. Dot leaned just a little close, keeping their hands clasped. “And just to clarify, you’re here for the…insect infestation, yeah?” She raised a brow.

Charlie blinked at her for a moment. Then, her mouth twitched up a moment, and she nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” She played it off in a slightly-obvious way. “Hive under the car, happens all the time. Dealt with it a few times myself.”

“Just checking,” Dot said, releasing her hand and stepping back. “Come on then, time’s a wastin’.”

“Yeah, course.” Charlie readjusted her bag, pulled her suitcase closer, and followed when Dot strode off. “Brought my best tools with me, but, er, have you taken a look at the engine?” She asked, keeping pace. “Cause it should be fine, but your…type of car runs differently. I’ve seen the engines get ruined much faster.” She warned. “Might need to get it replaced.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Dot clenched her jaw, eyes forward. “If it does, we’ll pay for it. So long you can do your job.”

“Hell yeah I can.” Charlie gave a lopsided grin, dodging around the crowds. “I know these things inside and out.”

“Didn’t realize you had that much experience.” Dot hummed, leading Charlie outside and walking briskly. 

“Well, here and there,” Charlie cleared her throat. “So, uh, Mrs. Malto, you’re the…ranger, right?”

“As far as anyone asking is concerned.” Dot said curtly. “How much did your caller talk about us?”

“Oh, not much at all.” Charlie said easily. “Basic run-down, really.”

“You’ll have time for a longer rundown when my car is fixed.” Dot said pointedly, coming around a few taxis and spotting the flash of distinctly different yellow. “Oh, by the way,” She looked over her shoulder, not stopping, “your friend couldn’t wait to say hello.”

Charlie’s frown lasted only a second, Dot saw the moment she spotted him. Saw it when Charlie faltered to a stop, sudden and quick. Saw her eyes widen. Saw how quickly that morphed into an expression of absolute joy.

“Hey,” She greeted, awfully quiet, and she was off, damn near dropping her suitcase as she rushed up to the car.

Dot startled when Bumblebee revved his engine twice, loud. Loud enough that multiple people all looked over, and those walking by flinched from the noise. 

“Oh, look at you!” Charlie laughed with glee, skidding to a stop and placing her palms flat on the hood of Bumblebee, fully dropping her suitcase. “You’re gorgeous.”

Another rev, and very suddenly, the radio turned on. Dot knew this, because the volume was pumped up so loud she could hear it from the goddamn curb.

“Why pamper life's complexity,” began blasting, “when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?”

And Charlie just laughed, patting over his hood and—

Alright, Dot was more than a little interested how thrilled this woman was, and how very obvious Bumblebee was being in public, but there became a moment where it was too much for her to be comfortable. Sure, people probably thought there was someone inside the car, but good grief. And Bumblebee was supposed to be the role model.

“Okay, okay, very nice, love that you two get to have your reunion,” Dot cut in, and the radio suddenly snapped off. “But let's take this elsewhere.” She pointedly didn’t look back at the people glancing their ways. “And do what we came here to do, yeah?” She curtly yanked open Bumblebee’s trunk.

“Right,” Charlie didn’t seem overly ashamed, but at least looked apologetic as she quickly tossed her suitcase in the back. Bumblebee opened up his own passenger side door for her (seriously, get it together) and she slid in, backpack clinking as she set it down at her feet.

“Lord help me,” Dot muttered, walking around and getting into the driver's seat. The second she shut the door, Bumblebee flicked to life.

“Charlie,” Came a voice over the speakers, and he was turning out of the line of cars and speeding off before Dot could even properly get a seat-belt on. Dot realized a moment later that it wasn’t Bumblebee’s voice that said the name, but it did sound a lot like the actual Charlie’s voice. Albeit a bit higher pitched.

“Hey, Bug.” She grinned, placing a hand on the dash. Dot immediately tried not to boggle her eyes at her. “You drove all the way out here?”

“Just a forty minute drive. Thirty, really.” Bumblebee’s real voice clicked over the speakers. “How was the flight? Do you need to grab anything before we get there? Anything extra, just in case?”

“I made sure I packed enough.” Charlie confirmed. “Save a spare engine.”

“Which we’re hoping we don’t get to.” Dot cut in. She glanced between the two of them. “Bee,” She settled on, “keep a lid on that undercover identity, would you?”

“It was fine!” Bumblebee protested. “Nothing about any of that screamed hidden transformer.”

“To be fair,” Charlie said, tapping a finger over his dash, “you don’t have an inconspicuous paint job. That isn’t helping.”

“Finally,” Dot exclaimed, “I have been saying this for ages.”

“Plenty of people started painting their cars after us!” Bumblebee insisted.

“And you know what happened to those cars?” Dot crossed her arms. “You have any idea how many of them got searched?”

“Oh, he knows.” Charlie snorted.

“It was one time.” Bumblebee huffed. Dot mentally jotted that down to ask later. “How about we just focus on the task at hand?”

“Oh, now you wanna get back on task.” Dot huffed, then kicked by Bumblebee’s break when she saw the speed they were going at. “Tone it down before we get a speeding ticket.”

“That's only if the cops catch him.” Charlie grinned, and Dot swore she heard Bumblebee’s engine rumble at that.

“I’m not out-speeding the cops today.” Dot gave her a harsh look.

“Just saying,” Charlie raised her hands, leaning back. She paused for a moment. “Hey, Bee, did you even get a license plate?”

The sudden silence from Bumblebee and Dot spoke a hundred volumes.

Charlie just laughed.

Chapter Text

In Charlie’s defense, she was up and out before Bumblebee even came to a stop.

Dot had planned on leading the way to the barn, but she supposed Charlie must have been briefed, because she only looked around for a moment before rounding on Bumblebee and grabbing her suitcase, yanking it out and tossing her backpack inside. She was beelining straight for the barn right after.

Bumblebee de-transformed, jogging to catch up with the two of them. Charlie spared a glance his way, paused, then smiled. He nervously smiled back.

“Hi, Bumblebee!” Hashtag suddenly popped up from the hay she was supposed to be jumping over from the nearby training course. “Hi, Mom! Hi, new lady!” 

“Is that them?” Charlie blinked, though she kept walking.

“One of the new ones.” Bumblebee said quickly, only sparing a quick look. “I’ll make introductions later.”

“Of course,” Charlie said, and let Bumblebee push open the barn doors.

Everyone looked up (save for Thrash).

Charlie hesitated in the doorway a moment. Then she shook it off and pulled her suitcase closer.

“Over here,” Alex said after just a second, standing up and waving her over. She ignored the stares from the kids and followed.

“Kids, we’re gonna get to work now.” Dot said, sparing only a glance Charlie’s way. “Dad will help you make dinner. We can have one of your favorites tonight, I think we all need it.”

“And leave Thrash?” Mo protested.

“If Bumblebee says he’s in good hands, then he’s in the best.” Dot assured them, crouching and putting a hand on Mo’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine, I promise.” She said, meeting her gaze. “Now head back, okay?”

Mo hesitated a moment, then slowly nodded. Dot smiled at her, then caught Alex’s eye and gestured with her head.

“Alright, come on, now.” Alex was quick to step away from where Charlie was crouched next to Thrash, unzipping her suitcase to reveal a toolbox, among other things. “We’ll even get sprinkles this time.”

“Better only be on Mo’s serving.” Robby managed to muster up, but allowed him and Mo to be herded out. 

Nobody bothered trying to change Twitch’s mind. She was watching Charlie like a hawk.

“Is there any possible way to get him into his alt mode?” Charlie asked, not looking up from bringing out her tools. “Easier access to the engine, and I’ll understand the direction of the fuel pumps better.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the best.” Twitch accused, glowering. 

“She is.” Bumblebee said firmly, then crouched down. “If Thrash is able to, but—”

“If it’s gonna put too much stress on him, no, absolutely not. I get it.” Charlie assured, standing.

“If it's just for a moment it shouldn’t damage his engine too much?” Dot clarified, Bumblebee placing a palm over Thrash, slowly encouraging him to wake up.

“Not if he transforms and goes into recharge immediately after. Right?” Charlie checked. Bumblebee gave a curt nod, removing his servo when Thrash started to flicker.

“But what if he can’t transform?” Twitch stressed. “What if he just—he just makes his engine all worse and watery and he can’t even do it? Huh? What about that?”

“It’ll be a one-and-done try.” Charlie said, gaze lingering on Twitch a moment before turning back to Thrash, his limbs twitching. “I’m not going to let him get hurt, I promise.”

Twitch glowered. “If you promise.” She relented.

“Hey there, Thrash,” Dot murmured, stepping around all of them to sit on the hay beside him. Thrash groaned, optics flickering. “We’re gonna try something to help you. But if it hurts, if it feels like something is—hey, can you hear me?” She clarified, hand on his chassis.

“Mmmmzzzzhmm,” Thrash buzzed out. Twitch’s wings flicked.

“If it feels like anything is getting worse, you stop, alright?” Dot said. “You understand?” 

Weakly, Thrash nodded. Dot felt a small pang in her chest, and she slowly retracted her hand. 

“Can you transform for us?” She asked softly. “As best you can, into your alt mode. Then you can go right back to recharge, I promise.”

Thrash gave a low, sputtering groan. For a moment Dot thought they’d have to work with what they got—but then his limbs twitched, and he rolled over a little too far.

Bumblebee reached down to catch him, steadying Thrash as he tried to stand upright. Bumblebee was very evidently out of his element, but doing his best with one servo hovering behind Thrash’s back. Charlie watched all of it intently, eyes flicking when one of Thrash’s gears locked for a moment.

“C’mon, c’mon, it's easy!” Twitch was there, practically shoving Thrash further upright with her whole body, making Bumblebee jerk back completely. “You do it a hundred times.”

“Easy with him, Twitch.” Dot warned gently.

“He’s got it!” Twitch protested, nudging Thrash’s side. “I’ll do it with you.”

Thrash made some broken noise. Then, Twitch nudged her helm into his shoulder, and she began to, remarkably slowly, transform.

A second later, Thrash followed suit.

He was much slower than her, and a lot clunkier. Twitch actually fully turned into a drone before Thrash was even halfway through, having to go back and re-transform a few pieces he did incorrectly. Twitch apparently noticed and then de-transformed halfway, repeatedly transforming the next few inches forward until Thrash caught up with her.

Twitch cared, but that didn’t make her any more patient. 

And then, finally, the last piece clicked together, and a motorcycle-and-sidecar was resting in the barn.

“Perfect, Thrash, that’s perfect.” Dot said quickly, crouching by him and putting a hand just over the headlight. Twitch was giving a big cheer and flying up above. “You can go back to sleep now. You’re gonna wake up feeling a lot better, I promise.”

“Ooooookkkaaakkk,” Thrash droned, and, immediately, his voice began dimming with the sound of his power flickering off.

Charlie set her toolbox down next to Thrash the second he clicked off.

“Thank you,” She nodded over her shoulder to Dot. “Alright,” She started working on feeling over the plastic body, tugging to see how loose they’d come off, “to work, then.”

Twitch stopped in the air, looking down curiously. And Bumblebee—he just nodded once, and stepped back, almost relaxed.

Dot just watched.

“Kids, quit looking out the window.”

“We weren’t!” Chorused Robby and Mo, both jerking away from said window and sitting back down on the couch.

Alex sighed, putting the pan he was cleaning back on the rack. As if he hadn’t been cleaning after dinner a lot more thoroughly than usual.

Dot wound up declining on coming in for dinner, or taking one from a tupperware. He didn’t stick around too long—seeing Thrash with all his covers pulled off and half his parts on the ground had been unnerving. 

Twitch herself had eventually gotten hurried off to join her siblings sleeping in the garage. She didn’t strike him as the queasy type, but she was also young. Then again, equally as likely she kept getting in the way and they convinced her to leave for Thrash’s safety. Bumblebee hadn’t looked too perturbed, at least.

“They’re not going to come in for a while.” Alex warned, walking over and taking the Uno cards they hadn’t even pretended to be occupied with off the coffee table. “Come on, it's late, and you still have school tomorrow.”

“But—!”

“Thrash is going to be fine.” Alex interrupted, and Mo grudgingly sat back against the couch. “It’s just like going to the doctor overnight. You two really need to go to bed.” He held up a hand before they could protest. “I’m sure Thrash will be better in the morning. It’ll make the time go by quicker.”

Robby and Mo looked at each other, clearly not liking the idea, but—not having anything better. Dot had made it clear they weren’t to come in and bother Charlie while she worked.

“Promise you’ll wake us up when he’s better?” Mo challenged.

“Or call us?” Robby added. He didn’t seem as optimistic about the speed of Thrash’s recovery.

“I promise,” Alex placed a hand over his chest, “you’ll be the first to know. Though I’m sure you’ll feel it, too.” He chuckled lightly.

“Okay, then,” Mo sighed, pushing up to her feet slowly. She’d been droopy for the last hour or so anyway, and Alex ruffled her hair as she shuffled past.

Robby was slower, more hesitant. He looked back out the window one more time, to the barn that had a faint light of a lantern and flashlight shining between the old wood. 

Then, when he turned to walk up to his room, Alex moved to place a hand on his shoulder.

“M’sorry, Dad.” Is what Robby mumbled instead, and that made Alex pause through the movement.

He frowned confusedly—then sighed, letting his hand drop much softer on Robby’s shoulder.

“You couldn’t have known.” He said softly. “Kids are jerks, and let me tell you, we will certainly take destruction of property as a complaint to the school board.”

“We didn’t tell him to wait for us.” Robby still wasn’t looking up, arms crossed. “But I should’ve…we should’ve told ‘em to go home more, I guess.”

“Hey,” Alex crouched to be eye-level, “this is not your fault. Any other time, you would’ve all come home safe. These things happen.” He tried to smile. 

Robby just shrugged. He got in his own head sometimes, so Alex just patted him once with a sigh and stood back up. He mumbled quiet encouragement as he moved his hand over Robby’s back, guiding him to the stairs.

Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow would be better for everyone.

It was scarcely an hour after that when Alex heard the front door open.

He was up in an instant, his book forgotten on the chair. There was a moment of panic—and then relaxation when he noticed Dot in the doorway.

The clock was just after ten P.M.

“How is he?” He couldn’t help asking.

“He’ll be fine,” Not- Dot said, and the woman—Charlie—poked her head in and looked around, apprehensive. “Though there is…a slight hiccup…”

“It’s really not that bad.” Dot assured easily, stepping inside and kissing Alex on the cheek, taking his hand. Charlie looked hesitant a moment before Dot nodded and she stepped inside. 

She looked even messier than when she arrived. Then again, she’d gone through quite a bit in the last few hours. Her old t-shirt was heavily stained with grease and what might be water, hands definitely in need of a wash, backpack over her shoulder.

“It’s the engine.” Charlie said, and Alex noticed yellow outside. Bumblebee was standing guard outside the barn, though his blue optics kept flashing towards the house. “Cybertronians—er, Terrans,” She amended, “run real hot real fast, and their engines get a lot more use in a minute than our cars do. So,” She sighed, rubbing her neck. Alex was all too aware of the black smear she was getting on herself, “if this were just a car and I didn’t have a customer who could pay for it, I’d fix up their engine, tell ‘em to be careful, and be done with it. But I really don’t think this Thrash is gonna be in top condition if he keeps his current engine.”

“He needs a new one.” Alex summarized, feeling a small sink in his chest.

“The good news is these big guys always scan pre-existing vehicles, so I just gotta find Thrash’s make and model.” Charlie pointed a thumb back to where Bumblebee was doing a terrible job of pretending not to be eavesdropping. “The slightly annoying news is I’m better with cars. But I know some motorcycle folks and could probably figure it out within the day. The kind of bad news is a brand new engine is definitely gonna cost a bit, and take some time to ship out. Although Bee did volunteer to break a few speed limits and pick one up.” 

“We can cover the costs.” Dot said firmly. “But Thrash is gonna be in the barn for at least another day.” She told Alex. 

“Whatever he needs, of course.” Alex said, already deflating at the kids being disappointed come morning. 

“And whatever you guys want to do, I can do it.” Charlie said, seeming to realize the door was open and turning back to shut it. She paused for a moment and waved to Bumblebee, who immediately gave a wave of his digits back, then closed it.

“We can’t thank you enough, truly. I know this was such short notice,” Alex began, “and–and I don’t think I’ve even introduced myself.” He slapped his forehead. “Goodness, my manners!”

“Hey, s’cool, we were all in a bit of a rush.” Charlie shrugged it off, still cautiously glancing around the house.

“I’m Alex Malto.” He began sticking out his hand…then remembered how dirty Charlie’s were and hesitated halfway through the movement.

“I figured as much. Bumblebee gave me a quick rundown.” Charlie said, not noticing as she went right ahead in shaking his hand. It was brief, but he cringed when he saw how filthy it immediately got. Ah, well. “And you know who I am by now.”

“The mechanic from California, yes.” Alex smiled all the same. “Or…” He leaned forward again in a conspiratory manner, dramatically looking around, “is that what you say when anyone asks?”

Charlie blinked at him, then snorted. She didn’t quite roll her eyes, but she looped her thumb through the waistband of her jeans, more relaxed than when she first stepped in.

“Yeah, cause there are so many robot incidents happening in California.” She teased. “They had to get secret operatives who don’t even get anything cool out of the ordeal.”

“Well,” Alex stuttered, and Dot was definitely grinning at him behind his back, “sorry, I just—I assumed since you knew Bumblebee…”

“That’s a long story, and trust me, it has nothing to do with having a cool secret identity.” Charlie held up her hands. “I really am just a mechanic from the golden state.”

“Maybe tell us the story some time.” Dot suggested.

“Definitely, but for right now, uh,” Charlie clasped her hands together, “you said you had a spare guest room…?”

“Of course, it's upstairs.” Dot nodded, then Alex stepped forward.

“I can show her upstairs, I was about to turn in, anyways.” He assured. “There’s still some leftovers in the fridge if you want them.”

“Maybe,” Dot hummed, stepping back for Charlie to follow Alex to the stairs, readjusting her backpack.

“You got a bathroom up there?” Charlie clarified as she and Alex ascended up.

“Oh, yes, we do. I can, uh, get you some wipes.” Alex cleared his throat. “So you don’t get a mess on the towels.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s best.” Charlie chuckled, Dot listening to their voices fade. “All mine at home are permanently stained.”

Dot waited as their voices faded. She waited a moment longer after that, leaning back against the kitchen counter as she heard footsteps on the floor above her. She closed her eyes, and breathed.

The fun part about being a parent was that, no matter how much you were assured it would all turn out fine, your kids getting hurt still scared the hell out of you.

She was not prepared to be a mother of seven, but that's how it went in this business, she supposed. She also didn’t expect to be friends with Earth’s former enemy, so, you know.

She’d just stay down here for a minute. Listen to the soft thumps as the house and people settle. Alex knew she needed these moments sometimes. He wouldn’t bother her.

They were fine.

All of them were going to be fine.

The only thing that broke Dot out of her trance was the faintest shaking of the ground.

It was gentle, and wouldn't have woken anyone, but it wasn’t too hard to miss when one was awake. Her eyes glanced at the kitchen clock—only half an hour, actually. She’d been out longer than that.

She knew the sound of Cybertronian footsteps. Could practically tell their weight class by it.. Knew that Twitch and Thrash could almost be silent thanks to their size. Knew that any footsteps that could be so quiet, yet still make the ground shake the tiniest amount, belonged to Alex’s favorite of all the Autobots.

Dot went to the window at the back of the house. She could already see Bumblebee’s legs standing next to the building. She at first thought he was here for her, but he would’ve crouched by the door if that was the case, not gone around.

He wasn’t even near the backdoor.

Curious, Dot came to the window, pushing it open. She had a question on her tongue, wondering what he needed.

“Now, this doesn’t look stalkerish at all.”

Dot looked up at the voice, craning her neck out of the window.

Bumblebee was head-level with one of the windows they almost never opened—it belonged to their guest room, and they’d had no guests. That window was open now, and she could only barely see Charlie.

“Oh, come on, you can’t say that every—” Bumblebee started. 

“I know, I know.” Charlie chuckled, and Dot thought she saw her arms crossed over the windowsill. “You need something?”

“No, no, I, uh,” Bumblebee cleared his throat, one pede scuffing the ground, “I just…well, now that we have a moment,” He straightened a little, “sorta, we didn’t, er…get to properly say hello, I guess.”

“Yeah, no real time for emotional greetings.” Charlie said, but her voice sounded strained. A moment later, Dot definitely saw her torso leaning a bit dangerously far out the window. 

In a flash, Bumblebee was there, one servo gently resting on their roof, helm up right before the window. He blocked the view, but Dot could well enough gather Charlie’s head and hands against his helm.

“God,” Came so quietly she nearly dismissed it as the wind, “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Bumblebee’s voice cracked, she swore up and down it did, “yeah, I—you have no idea.” He muttered something under his breath she didn’t catch, something Charlie softly replied to.

Then, a soft click rang out, and Dot heard music.

“My love, tell me what it’s all about, you’ve got something I can’t live without. Happiness is so hard to find, hey baby tell me what is on your mind,”

She heard Charlie snicker, an awfully wet-sounding noise, and Dot decided that was as good a time as any to ease back into her home and gently shut her window.

She could see a personal moment when it was happening, no matter how curious she was. And even then—she couldn’t help smiling a little, finally deciding to make her way upstairs. 

At least that tiny, nagging part of her was at ease: whoever Charlie Watson was, as a person, had to be something good. Bumblebee may have been known as the Autobot most curious about humans, but you didn’t get that close with a Cybertronian without earning it.

Yes, she knew for certain, without making it a mantra: she wouldn’t have to worry about Charlie.

Chapter Text

“Wait, wait, you’re telling me that Bumblebee…disobeyed Optimus Prime?”

“Right?” Twitch exclaimed, then ducked down and looked nervously over the training course. Luckily, nobody came out of the barn to see what they were doing.

“That kind of seems like a big deal. Everyone says Optimus Prime is a big deal.” Jawbreaker fiddled his servos together. 

“It’s a super big deal.” Twitch assured, turning back. “But apparently Robby says I can’t tell anyone about it because ‘we don’t know what the whole story is’ or whatever.” She scoffed.

“We won’t tell, promise.” Hashtag said, typing away at her phone (that didn’t look anything like Robby and Mo’s phones, but Mom said it was basically a phone when Optimus left it at the house, so phone it was). “Let me just…”

“Are you writing this down?” Twitch startled, standing up straighter.

“Well, I’m not posting it anywhere.” Hashtag huffed, as if it was totally ridiculous to think otherwise. “Just, like, recording it. Until we figure it out and I can post it.”

“I don’t think you can post stuff related to transformers.”

“But we can’t just ask them, can we?” Jawbreaker stressed. “I–I mean, they’re busy with Thrash and all…”

“No, no, not now.” Twitch waved it off, wing flicking a bit anxiously. “Robby and Mo said to at least wait till Thrash is all better. Then we’ll figure out what this whole mystery is. Ooh, maybe we could learn if you guys are really good at secret spy missions!” She bounced on her pedes. “Like—uh,” She looked around a moment, “where’s Nightshade?”

Jawbreaker also looked around. Hashtag glanced up from her phone, shrugged, then went back to whatever it is she was doing.

“Er, they were here a second ago?” Jawbreaker tried.

“Uh,” Twitch blinked, “maybe they’re in the barn?”

“Aren’t we supposed to stay out of the barn?” Jawbreaker fretted. 

“Well, if Nightshade is in there, then it must be okay again!” Twitch straightened, much more excited. “Which means Thrash is better! Or almost better! Either or! Come on!” She zoomed between her siblings, grabbing them by the wrists. “Let’s go!”

“Do what?” Hashtag blinked, but she allowed Twitch to guide her up.

“But wait, what if Nightshade isn’t even in there—!” 

Twitch yanked on their wrists, then all but sprung up into her drone form, zipping over to the barn. They’d follow, she knew they would. They were curious and also hated trouble, respectively. And if Thrash was better, then they’d want to say hello! 

She was transforming back to her regular form in a flash, shoving the barn door open a crack and sticking her helm instead, optics darting. 

Most of the light was coming through openings at the top of the barn, plus some electrical lanterns. But most of it—most of the light was coming from the same place Thrash had been for forever, and it was coming from Bumblebee.

Bumblebee had barely left since this Charlie person showed up, and honestly, Twitch was getting rather impatient. Yeah, yeah, they’d get in big trouble for revealing they spied on Bumblebee, but she wanted to know! Charlie didn’t look any more special than any other human, so what's the big deal? 

Bumblebee was sitting against the barn wall, bright lights shining from his headlights and gently from his optics. He was looking down where Thrash had always been, and where this Charlie was also sitting on a pile of hay.

She wasn’t working on Thrash this time. It was pretty early in the morning, just after Robby and Mo left for school. Twitch was personally awake because she thought sleeping in was for lazy people (and her new siblings had yet to develop a proper circadian rhythm). Instead, Charlie was typing something on a laptop, then turning it towards Mom, sitting on another haybale.

“This is his engine.” Charlie was saying, and Twitch felt herself deflate, realizing Thrash was not, in fact, any better. “But a lot of the plain engines I found were used. To be honest, it might be easier just to buy a fresh motorcycle and tear its engine out.”

Twitch looked over her shoulder, finding Jawbreaker and Hashtag creeping up to follow. She made a jerky motion with her helm, then ducked inside the barn, keeping low to the ground and scurrying along like a proper ninja.

“And you already looked at how close they are, I bet.” Bumblebee said as Twitch hid behind a wooden beam. She saw Hashtag roll in a second later, flopping halfway before scooting behind a pile of hay. Jawbreaker hesitated in the doorway.

“Course I did, you think I’m not going in armed?” Charlie snorted.

Jawbreaker finally tiptoed inside, trying to ease his way over to where Twitch was hiding. She darted off and climbed up onto some old stacks of hay, tilting around before catching her balance. She liked to be tall. It allowed her to survey the domain.

Jawbreaker also did not at all hide well behind a skinny wooden beam.

“Alright, alright, if…” Mom sighed, and oh, she sounded stressed. Twitch felt another prick of guilt. “If buying a fresh motorcycle is best, then it's best.”

“A used engine would still work fine.” Charlie said. “I mean, it's used, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work as effectively.”

Twitch felt a tiny flare of indignation, her brother deserved the best kind of engine. It was quelled when Mom sighed and shook her head, typing something down on the laptop.

“No, if you want something right, you pay full price.” She said resolutely. “How soon can it be delivered?”

“I’m going to pick it up.” Bumblebee corrected, and Twitch caught sight of Hashtag failing a roll over to Jawbreaker, then re-trying it before she made it to him and pulled him down to hide behind old crates and stalls. Hashtag looked up and gave a thumbs up at Twitch, and Twitch just returned it. “It could take a day to deliver, maybe two, but I can drive there in three hours.”

“Don’t lie,” Charlie huffed, taking her laptop back and scanning it when Mom handed it over, “you’re making it in two or less.”

“Can you have a little more faith in my ability to abide by speed limits?” Bumblebee puffed, resting his cheek on his servo. 

“How soon can you head out?” Mom asked.

“Now, honestly.” Charlie said, giving another once-over before shutting her laptop. “The order’s all through, and since it’ll take a while to get there, they should have it ready to go when you get there. Maybe another hour of tune-ups, but that’s it.”

“Fantastic,” Mom breathed out, standing. “Alex can go with Bee, he’s better with normal car-related stuff than me.”

And Twitch, because she had a high vantage point and liked to stare at the little minute details, noticed when Charlie sent a quick glance towards Mom. Swore there was a tiny hint of disappointment, but it was gone just as flash, and she was tucking her laptop back into her bag. Bumblebee’s digit curled a little over his cheek, the smallest frown before he readjusted and it vanished.

Interesting. She tried to remember that for later.

“If all goes to plan, Thrash should be good as new by tomorrow, maybe the day after, but definitely early in the morning.” Charlie said, resting her arm on her knee. “The dealership has my number, so I’ll give any updates if they come. Have Alex call me if he’s got any questions.”

“Of course,” Mom said, standing and stretching out an arm. “Thank you, again. I know we keep saying it, but—”

“He’s your ‘bot, I get it.” Charlie said with an easy smile, leaning back till her head was tilted back till she could see Bumblebee. 

Bumblebee smiled back at her, just as easy, and in a uniquely soft way Twitch had only seen a few times before. The best one she could think of was when she and Thrash had managed to figure out how to replenish themselves on the weird magic water.

“Something like that.” Mom said, expression frowning a little before she turned and began walking. “I’ll fetch Alex, then. Kids, your brother’s fine, you don’t gotta spy anymore.”

Jawbreaker very ungracefully rolled out from the pile of crates, landing on his face.

Charlie jumped, nearly tripping over her own feet. Bumblebee was entirely unphased, simply snorting and looking up and directly to where Twitch was hiding.

Oh, so now he was good at paying attention to his surroundings, was he?

“We weren’t spying.” Twitch huffed, giving up the jig and poking her head out of the rafters. “We were looking for Nightshade.”

“Which led to spying.” Hashtag added, popping up from her spot. 

“I was trying not to spy!” Jawbreaker added from his place on the ground.

“Sure, kids.” Mom called over her shoulder, but she seemed amused, and she left the barn without any sort of scolding, so Twitch felt it was a win, and came to land with a soft thwump.

“Maybe that can be our next training exercise.” Bumblebee sounded only partially teasing, dimming his lights a little. “Twitch, I’ll give you props, you’re getting better.”

“Why thank you.” Twitch gave a little bow, trying not to let her smug oh he doesn’t even know show on her face.

“Is Nightshade actually here?” Hashtag asked, walking right over Jawbreaker’s back. To be fair, he didn’t seem to care.

“Nope,” Bumblebee leaned back a little, “well, I mean, I know they used to be in here, but they must’ve left a bit ago.”

“You’re not even totally sure of that?” Charlie raised her brow at him.

“I am,” Bumblebee immediately puffed, “because I would’ve noticed if they were here. Obviously.”

“Mhm,” Charlie said, then looked back at the Terrans, eyes flicking between them, “I don’t think we’ve properly met?”

“Oh, we’re supposed to tell each other names when meeting!” Twitch suddenly buzzed over and plopped in front of Charlie, who jerked a step back. “Hi, I’m Twitch, you’re fixing my brother, and I hope you do a good job.” She stuck out her servo. “Because if you don’t, I will know.”

“...excuse—?”

“Twitch.” Bumblebee gruffed, leaning forward in his seat.

“I’m just saying!” Twitch flew back instantly, servos up in the air innocently. “What, I can’t say things? I’d just know, that’s all, that’s it!” 

“Charlie knows what she’s doing.” Bumblebee warned anyway, optics narrowed. 

“Well, I still need to see that.” Twitch muttered, crossing her arms and turning her body to the side.

Alright, maybe that was a little harsh. Twitch did like Charlie— wanted to like her, that is. She was apparently Bumblebee’s big secret and so far the most interesting part about her was that she knew how to fix machines. She flew from really far away to be here, and Bumblebee clearly trusts her, so—yes, Twitch trusts her, too.

It just twisted her insides, in a way she had yet to describe, when she looked over at Thrash and saw him as lifeless as a corpse.

“I’m Hashtag!” And Twitch’s wings stopped buzzing. She didn’t even know they were doing that. Everyone's eyes went right to the Terran in question, who was crouched by Charlie and stuck out her servo awkwardly. “Robby’s been teaching me about handshakes.”

“Hashtag, huh?” Charlie said, appearing to have a bit of whiplash, something twitching on her face before she took one of Hashtag’s digits and shook it. “Who came up with that one?”

“I did!” Hashtag said cheerfully. “Well, no, I was kinda created with it. Or something. We’re not sure.”

“Don’t ask.” Bumblebee said as soon as Charlie looked back at him.

“Well…interesting name, but nice to meet you, Hashtag.” Charlie decided on. “You’re one of the newer Terrans, right?”

“Just created a few days ago.” Hashtag chirped. Charlie’s eyes boggled, just a tiny bit. 

“It’s been a long week.” Is all Bumblebee said, then canted his helm. Twitch saw Jawbreaker creep up to his pedes and nervously shuffle over. “This is Jawbreaker. I’d also introduce you to Nightshade if I knew where they were.”

“Yeah, you should probably have better awareness about that.” Charlie snorted under her breath, but smiled up at Jawbreaker fiddling his servos together anyway. “‘Sup.”

“Uh, hi.” Jawbreaker scuffed his pede on the ground. “Sorry, um, about spying…”

“Nah, it's fine.” Charlie brushed off, offering a hand. “Bumblebee’s done worse.”

“I have not!” Bumblebee straightened like a rod.

“It’s a problem.” Charlie said without missing a beat, giving a small shake to Jawbreaker’s huge digit. “You know he once tracked down a street racer and spied on his house ‘cause he revved a little too loud?”

“That is not even close to what happened!” Bumblebee squawked indignantly, and it was immediate how fast all the Terrans were suddenly paying full attention. “He’d been borderline threatening people and had way too much to boast about.” He scoffed, crossing his arms and glaring down. “Of which he was lying about, for the record. He did not have a supercharger, in fact it barely even qualified as a low-grade turbocharger. ‘Street-winning Corvette’ my a—my whatever.” He corrected quickly.

Charlie was fully giggling into her fist. The Terrans were all staring in a mix of surprise, fascinated interest, and downright confusion.

“Bee,”

And it all evaporated when the barn door was pushed open.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Bumblebee was on his pedes, clearing his throat and dimming his lights completely. “Is Alex all ready?”

“As he’ll ever be.” Dot said, stepping to the side. “He’ll call when you get there.”

“Great,” Bumblebee was very careful when stepping around Charlie, “we’ll be back before dinner.” He stopped in the barn entryway, looking back and pointing a digit towards the Terrans. “All of you play nice.”

“I think I can handle it, Bee.” Charlie teased gently.

“That warning went for you, too.” Bumblebee corrected, a little upwards curl to his mouth before nodding to Dot once and walking out to meet with Alex.

And thus the barn was silent.

“Alright,” Dot said after a moment, “let’s see if we can find where Nightshade went before Optimus comes visit, hm?”

Chapter Text

In the end, they didn’t find Nightshade.

Nightshade found them.

There seemed to be some sort of unspoken rule that someone stay close to the barn, even while they searched. Sometimes it was Twitch, then it was Jawbreaker, Hashtag, anyone. The others, for lack of anything to do, fanned out in search of the Terran.

Charlie, who had yet to be introduced, mostly stayed by Dot, asking the odd question.

“Just spawned from the ground, huh?”

“Something like that, Optimus is still trying to understand it.” Dot sighed. “Frankly I think he’s too excited about the existence of something Cybertronian-related to worry over the small details.”

“Well, it’s gotta be exciting.” Charlie shrugged, hands in her pockets. “Not like any more Cybertronians are gonna be born.”

Dot faltered a little, frowning off. Charlie continued strolling, watching as Hashtag fell off a tree before calling out she was fine, and no Nightshade was to be found.

“Yeah,” Dot said, quietly, then straightened. “When did Bee tell you about Cyber—?”

A shriek rang through the property.

Heads snapped around, many of which were automatically geared for a fight. Instead, they saw Jawbreaker topple over onto his side like a turtle from his post by the barn.

Walking up from behind him was a mildly confused, very casual Nightshade.

“Oh, did I startle you?” Nightshade asked curiously.

“Kid!” Dot exhaled heavily, relaxing along with the others, “where have you been?”

“Just working.” Nightshade said cheerfully, offering a servo to help Jawbreaker back to his feet. “How is Thrash?”

“Charlie says he’ll be better tomorrow.” Hashtag said, popping up from her spot on the ground.

“Oh, yes,” Nightshade looked around a moment before they locked their optics on Charlie, “you’re fixing Thrash, hello. Twitch said not to be overtly curious.”

“Twitch said huh?” Charlie blinked.

“To not bother you!” Twitch cut in, flying by and nearly falling over Nightshade’s shoulders. “While you worked! Cause you were working, very hard, and stuff. I said not to bother you with questions and stuff.”

“Oh, well,” Charlie looked between them a moment, “you…could’ve asked me stuff. I can talk and work. Bumblebee’s still learning how to sit quietly.” 

“Is he?” Dot turned to look at her. “He seemed quiet enough when you were working on Thrash.”

“He was worried. You should see how he is when—” Charlie stopped short, pausing and clearing her throat. “Well, back when he was…”

“Hiding with you?” Dot finished, slowly.

“Yes! Okay, didn’t know if we were on the same page.” Charlie said, relieved. “But he would not stop talking while I was trying to fix a customer's new car.”

“Bumblebee did not strike me as the chatterbox type.” Nightshade said, unaware of Hashtag suddenly lifting her head and looking off towards the road. “He’s more of a…teacher, at least from what Twitch and Thrash have said.”

“Just find something he's interested in, he won’t stop.” Charlie teased. 

“Hmm,” Dot hummed, “you’ve known him a while, have you?”

“Well,” Charlie hesitated, just for a moment.

And that was when the sound of a loud engine, and large wheels on a dirt road, reached them.

All heads turned, Jawbreaker ducking behind Nightshade a little. Twitch flew over to stand just off to the side, a tiny bit in front of Dot and Charlie. 

They all relaxed (save for Jawbreaker) when a red and blue truck appeared, and a moment later, transformed. 

“I was wondering when you’d make it, Optimus.” Dot greeted with a nod. “Megs not with you?”

“He is being…difficult.” Optimus sighed, striding over. “How is Thrash coming along?”

“He’ll be fine.” Dot said as soon as Charlie opened her mouth.

“Splendid, I’m grateful to hear that.” Optimus came to kneel in front of them. His optics flicked over. “Charlie Watson, you look different.”

“Not that much, really.” Charlie joked, crossing her arms. She still had the tiniest waver in her voice, eyes taking Optimus in. Dot figured she must be less used to Optimus, because Dot found it very easy to get used to how ‘grand’ the Prime was after a few months of knowing him.

“No, not really,” Optimus agreed, offering his servo. “Thank you for coming out on such short notice. I apologize for bringing you into Autobot business yet again.”

“I wasn’t really brought in the first time.” Charlie said, pausing a moment before gingerly letting her whole hand get enveloped for a handshake. “Seriously, call anytime, I’m happy to help. All this thanks isn’t necessary.”

“Noble, but we’ll save your expertise for emergencies.” Optimus said, retracting his servo. “If you are not busy at the moment, I would like to discuss something with you.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” Charlie said, sending Dot a confused and slightly alarmed look. Dot tried to silently assure that Optimus had a habit of phrasing mundane things like that. 

“Hi, Mr. Optimus!” Jawbreaker called from further away.

“Hello, young Terrans.” Optimus nodded. “Are you getting on well?”

“Better than Thrash.” Hashtag chirped. Jawbreaker immediately began chastising her before Twitch’s wings could even flick.

“We can talk by the house.” Dot offered, already turning and leading the way. “Alex and Bee are off fetching a replacement engine for Thrash.”

“Ah. I had feared it may be so severe.” Optimus frowned, lumbering after her and Charlie. “If there is anything I may do to help…”

“Could the Autobots pay for a whole motorcycle?” Dot teased.

“It's actually pretty cheap.” Charlie chimed in. “Called up a few folks till they directed me to one of the closest and cheapest out here. You never know with mechanics,” She looped a thumb in her jeans, “some of ‘em are complete assholes as soon as they hear a chick on the phone, others are just excited to have anyone interested.”

“You really didn’t have to do that.” Dot said, if only out of politeness. “You paid for a ticket all the way here.”

“Yeah, yeesh, it wasn't cheap.” Charlie chuckled. “But it’s worth it, y’know? You don’t gotta pay me back or anything. Unless you're offering.” She said, and there was the tiniest glint in her eye.

“Not when you say it like that.” Dot huffed back, and Charlie just grinned.

“I was very glad to hear you’re still a mechanic.” Optimus said, coming to a kneel beside the house. Charlie didn’t even hesitate to sit on the hood of their car. Dot felt her eye twitch a little, good lord the amount of times Bumblebee decided to sit his over-two-thousand-pound aft on the roof of the damn thing, but let it be.

“Eh, long passions like that are hard to kill. Especially when you meet interesting company.” Charlie said, leaning back on her hands. 

“I should hope you’ve not run into any more Cybertronians.” Optimus frowned.

“Nah, none bothered going that far west. And when they did, they were just trying to keep their heads down from what I heard.”

“I know we’ve had to take a few friends into hiding further away from conflict, though I should hope none of them got too close to you.” Optimus said, and Charlie hummed in a not very reassuring way. “But I wanted to ask you something a little more…personal.”
“Oh?” Charlie crossed her arms, and Dot leaned against the side of the car when she noticed a tense jump in Charlie’s jaw.

“It’s about Megatron,” Optimus said, and Charlie’s jaw relaxed—then she moved her head back in confusion, “he is…we had an incident recently,” Optimus tried, “and he has sustained some damage to his arm. I understand if this is too much trouble, but if you wouldn’t mind having a look at it…”

“I see.” Charlie said, eyes narrowing just a tad. “And Megatron wants my help?”

“Well,” Optimus winced a tad, “he is being…stubborn.”

“It's part of his personality.” Dot added, rolling her eyes. “But he’ll agree, I’ll get him to, so don’t worry about it.” She brushed off.

“Well, if Optimus himself is asking.” Charlie said, crossing one leg over the other. “Suppose I could extend my expertise to a helicopter, but I make no promises.” 

“No problems here?” Dot clarified, because it had been her job, for many years, to pay attention to little details like this. And she knew, when Charlie didn’t turn her head, but darted her eyes warily Dot’s way, that her suspicions were correct.

And it still annoyed her, still set off a small piece of her. Not like she didn’t get it— she did. Megatron was still the reason the Decepticons chased the Autobots all the way to Earth, the reasons humans got caught up in a war that had nothing to do with them. Nothing could take away the lives that had been ruined, or lost, by his actions. She understood that.

But God, if she didn’t know how hard Megatron tried.

“I’m here to help.” Charlie said when her eyes went back to Optimus. “And I’m gonna do whatever I can to fulfill that role. Bring him in when I fix up Thrash, since I assume he’s not in critical condition.” 

At least Charlie knew how to keep it professional, she supposed.

“Thank you,” Optimus sighed, a relieved slump to his shoulders, “I’ll work on convincing him. In the meantime,” He said, pushing back onto his pedes, “I hope you are settling in well?”

“The Malto’s have gone above and beyond for such short notice.” Charlie smiled, giving a slightly shy glance towards Dot. “The kids are interesting.”

“Interesting, huh?” Dot leaned against the hood of her car, arms crossed. She was amused by that one—it was one way to describe them.

“I didn’t realize they could come so small.” Charlie admitted. “I always thought Bumblebee was remarkably little for a Cybertronian, but I guess the Terrans got shrunk down even more. Like how a wolf evolved into a chihuahua.”

“My kids are not chihuahuas.” Dot scoffed. “They’re better behaved than that.”

“Of course, my mistake.” Charlie said easily.

“I am happy to hear it.” Optimus smiled. “Bumblebee was very excited for your return.” He said, and Dot will give Optimus this: she really never could tell when he was being obviously earnest, or purposefully teasing. Megatron had the same issue.

“Oh, was he now?” Charlie raised a brow, a slow, amused smile forming. 

“I don’t know how you roped that scout on your finger,” Dot added, most definitely teasing (and maybe a tad genuine), “but do you mind sharing the secret? I’ve seen soldiers less stressed over a visit from their superiors than he was over you.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Charlie joked right back, bending one knee up onto her seat. “If I told you, everyone would have their own Cybertronian by the week.”

“That, or Bumblebee would have multiple humans.” Optimus chuckled, getting back to his pedes. “I will leave you to it, then. But should you have any need to contact me or the other Autobots, do not hesitate to reach out. I’ll hopefully report back with Megatron as soon as Thrash is better.”

“Take your time.” Charlie gave a two-fingered salute. 

“Does that mean we can come over now?” Came a holler across the way, and when Optimus turned to walk off to transform, they saw Hashtag poking her head up from the training course. And Jawbreaker hastily shushing her. Optimus was most definitely smiling as he transformed and moved out of their line of sight to drive off.

“There wasn’t a time when you couldn't, sweetie.” Dot said with a fond sigh. “They haven’t gotten to meet any other humans besides us.” She told Charlie. “Well,” She paused for a moment, “none that were nice, at least.”

“I heard, yeah.” Charlie hummed as Hashtag trotted over, Nightshade and Jawbreaker curiously (and worriedly, in Jawbreaker’s case) from further behind. “Though I’m told there's worse ways to come into the world.”

“Hey, Charlie, so,” Hashtag nearly tripped over her pedes, fumbling with her phone. The ground shook with her heavy steps, and Charlie slipped off the hood of the car, “the internet tells me California is where all those awesome movies are made.”

Charlie blinked, then snorted. “That's Hollywood, in the southern part of California.”

“Oh, okay,” Hashtag looked all the way down at her, “so, like, you haven’t been there?”

“Did you seriously just want to ask Charlie about your favorite movies?” Dot crossed her arms.

“Well there are a lot of famous people living in California, too!” Hashtag pouted.

“Yeah, I don’t know anyone important, sorry about that.” Charlie leaned against the hood. “Nothing glamorous to be found where I live or in what I do. Most interesting part is I’ll sometimes get some real old or really fancy lookin’ cars coming in for a tune-up.” She shrugged, but she was smiling. “Those are fun days.”

“Aw,” Hashtag slumped.

“May I ask a question?” Nightshade inquired, daring to come closer, servos clasped as they peered around Hashtag. “Are there any differences between transformers and human vehicles?” They went on before anyone could answer, “And, continuing on that thought, would you say there appears to be many differences between a Terran, a Cybertronian, and a car? Or motorcycle, as it were.”

“Thought you said these kids were just born.” Charlie muttered good-naturedly to Dot, then smiled up at Nightshade. “Well, when you aren’t transformed into a vehicle, I’d say there's a lot of differences. But I’ve learned how to know what goes where. But you all fit together pretty neatly when you’re a car. No idea about jets or whatever it is the rest of you turn into.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“Dad says there's an Autobot who can turn into a dinosaur.” Jawbreaker mumbled, hiding behind Nightshade (to little success). 

“Oh, yeah, heard of him.” Charlie nodded. “As for Terrans…seemed pretty standard to me. I mean, the materials Thrash is made of seem just a little different than your average cars, not quite as tough.” She pinched two fingers together. 

“But that’s a plus-side, if anything. In my experience, Cybertronians are made of some sturdy stuff, real pains in the—” Dot cleared her throat, “—real pains to work on. Much sturdier than a normal car. I will say they’re lucky they don’t have mechanics on those search teams, they’d have bagged transformers instantly.”

“Do you think they would?” Jawbreaker stressed. “Look–look inside cars just to find if they’re transformers?”

“Too much invasive effort.” Dot soothed quickly. 

“None of us Terrans are really cars, anyway. A motorcycle is a different vehicle.” Nightshade added cheerfully. “Bumblebee seems fairly capable of outspeeding G.H.O.S.T.”

“He can outspeed a lot more than that, don’t you kids worry.” Charlie grinned, lopsided and definitely full of trouble. “But I hear you all…” She paused, then began again, “I noticed you all look similar with the colors. It has something to do with alt modes, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hashtag piped up again, looking over her shoulder to where Twitch was lazily kicking over an old post that fell over, glancing their way before hastily looking elsewhere, “Twitch said she didn’t get colorful till she scanned a drone. But she turned red, for some reason, she said the drones weren’t red.”

“Pretty sure its ‘cause red is cool.” Twitch’s voice drifted from a distance.

“It is, can’t deny that.” Charlie chuckled. “You ever seen a fresh, red-painted Alfa Romeo? The 4C? Absolutely stunning.”

Four pairs of eyes just stared back at her.

“Right,” Charlie cleared her throat, leaning back and nervously glancing away, “car stuff. Anyway, uh, Twitch!” She called over. “The Q&A session is open, if you’ve got anything.”

Twitch scuffed her pede on the ground, arms crossed. She looked down at the ground, then off towards the barn. Her hover-wings twitched, lowering for a moment. She then cleared her throat, looking back over at the others.

“Is Thrash actually gonna be better?” She asked, quiet enough to almost not be heard at the distance. 

“Oh, Twitch,” Dot sighed, sympathetic as she pushed away from the car to walk over, “we’re going to do our best.”

“I know.” Twitch mumbled, shrinking in on herself, taking a step back. “Y’just—you said he’d be better earlier. S’fine,” She took another step away from Dot approaching. “Um, you,” She raised her voice, Dot watching her with worrying, sad eyes as she moved closer to Charlie, “you got any…Bumblebee stories?” She tried. 

“Oh, yeah, Bumblebee stories are always fun!” Jawbreaker perked up noticeably. “I don’t get as worried when Dad talks about the Autobots.” He stepped around Nightshade, plopping on the ground hard enough for it to shake, looking up at a mildly bewildered Charlie. 

Charlie looked up, befuddled. Nightshade and Hashtag looked just as expectant, Nightshade in particular tilting their head like an inquisitive bird. 

Her eyes shifted to Dot. Who just let out a breath, trying to not look at Twitch as she crossed her arms and gave an encouraging shrug. Hey, she was curious, too.

“Well…” Charlie started, looking off to the side, perking up a little, then grinning back at her audience, “I’m willing to bet you never heard about the time he got scared by a dog and drove straight into the bay, have you?”

Nightshade and Hashtag were quick to take their seats, despite at least one of them definitely not knowing what a ‘dog’ was. Hashtag was already trying to subtly record.

And, just a little bit, Twitch perked up, wandering closer to listen.

Dot tried to convey a feeling of relief, instead of the amused fascination creeping through her. 

She just sat back, and she listened to the story. Her reasoning could be dual-purpose.

Chapter Text

Four and a half hours later, a bright black-and-yellow Ford sped up the dirt road, and from its open windows sang “here comes the calvary!”

And attached to the back of it was a tiny foldable trailer, with a fresh motorcycle sitting inside.

“You made it!” Twitch zipped straight out from around the house, flying over in a snap as Alex got out. “Is it good? Tell me it's good. Does the engine look right?”

“It looks great, Twitch. I think.” Alex mumbled the last part, unhitching the trailer. 

“Thrash is gonna feel better in no-time.” Bumblebee added, transforming out and shaking off his limbs. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, Nightshade is…somewhere.” Twitch looked over her shoulder, shrugging. “And Mom and Charlie are talking with Hashtag and Jawbreaker. Well, Jawbreaker is talking, Hashtag is watching YouTube. I think she's verifying.”

“Verifying what?” Bumblebee wondered, one servo on his hip.

And leaned back when Twitch was suddenly right in his face, optics narrowed and scrutinizing. Which still couldn’t hide the mischievous grin on her face.

“Nothing,” She chirped, flying back in a very unconvincing way, dropping down to her pedes. “I’ll go get Charlie!” She zoomed off again, rounding towards the kitchen window.

“Huh,” Bumblebee frowned, optics sliding to Alex as he rubbed at his back, meandering towards the house, “you think I should be worried about that?”

“Knowing kids?” Alex chuckled. “If you’re considering it, then it's already too late.”

“Great,” Bumblebee rolled his optics, grumbling as he stomped over to the house, moving his head around the corner first.

Twitch grinned at him, fluttering out of the way. Hashtag looked up from where she was typing away at her phone from her seat, and Jawbreaker only glanced, optics laser-focused on the open window to the kitchen.

“Oh, Bumblebee!” Hashtag had a positively shit-eating grin. “Hey, is it true you spun out in a rainstorm and killed all the power for, like, a whole town?” 

Bumblebee faltered, coming to an abrupt stop. He stared, processor whirring. The momentary silence was broken slightly when he heard the barely-restrained cackling from inside.

“Charlie!” He outcried, leaning down so far he was nearly bent in half, helm just short of shoving through the window. Jawbreaker complained behind him about interrupting. 

“Hey, Bee.” Charlie grinned, setting aside a paper plate with a mostly-eaten sandwich. “How was the drive?”

“Cause, you know,” Hashtag continued, “Charlie says surveillance cameras got video of it, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

“It wasn’t a town, it was, like, a couple neighborhoods!” Bumblebee insisted back at her, then gave Charlie a deeply betrayed expression.

“I couldn’t see lights till the horizon.” Charlie amended, already standing. Dot, who was leaning on the kitchen counter, had already begun cleaning up as soon as Hashtag called Bumblebee’s name, and so was moving towards the front door. “It was a cold night in my apartment.”

“So it did happen?” Jawbreaker gasped.

“No!” Bumblebee puffed, straightening. His face was a noticeable tint of purple. “Yes, well, no, kinda, it was— Charlie.” He whined, positively pathetic.

“Oh, relax,” Charlie teased, also throwing her stuff away before following Dot out, “I didn’t tell ‘em the really embarrassing ones.”

“You have more?” Hashtag sat up.

“She does not.” Bumblebee cut-in, plucking the phone from Hashtag’s hands. “And quit with these search histories, it's gonna look suspicious if you keep trying to find…” He squinted, reading off. “‘Yellow car bumblebee paint crash in poles’ I hit one pole!”

“And took three more with you.” Charlie sang, dusting off her hands as she came out the front door with Dot. Jawbreaker and Hashtag broke out into giggles.

“What did I do to make you hate me?” Bumblebee groaned, door-wings falling slack. “And to what do I owe an end to the misery? A Williams screwdriver set? A four A.M. trek to a gas station?”

“Of which I will be paying for anyway.” Charlie hummed.

“Very cute, you two, how’s the motorcycle look?” Dot cut in, already moving to circle the trailer.

“I mean, it seemed alright.” Alex said. “Hey, kids. Cause any trouble?”

“Dunno, haven’t seen Nightshade in a while.” Jawbreaker shrugged. “Again.”

“Robby and Mo are gonna come back from school in less than an hour.” Dot stood off to the side, examining the motorcycle as Charlie came over and gave it a light inspection. “How much do you think we can get done till then?”

“Honestly? Just getting the engine out.” Charlie admitted. “Delicate process when it's going into a living thing, y’know?”

“Figures,” Dot sighed. “Alright, Bee, you mind taking this in?”

“The guy running the place was chatty.” Bumblebee offered, (grudgingly letting the embarrassment go) reaching down and delicately picking up the motorcycle in his servos. “He was definitely trying to sell Alex on another bike.”

“As if my wallet isn’t suffering enough.”

“Probably thought they could snag another fanatic.” Charlie shrugged, following after Bumblebee as he moved towards the barn.

And Bumblebee had to quickly step back to avoid dropping his pede straight on Nightshade’s helm, who poked their head out the doors.

“Oh, you’re back!” Nightshade grinned up. “I shall leave you to it, then.” They slipped right out. “If you can afford to avoid breaking the wall.”

Bumblebee sent a very pointed look down towards Charlie.

“Believe it or not, Twitch was telling more stories about life here than I was about you.” Charlie raised her hands placatingly.

“Well, I had to update her.” Twitch called, suddenly buzzing right by Bumblebee’s head and coming to a landing far back in the barn. “Come on, come on, let's get to work already!”

“I swear I age a thousand years in this place.” Bumblebee grumbled, slowly trudging inside.

“And you aren’t even their mother.” Dot muttered under her breath, and tried not to feel a twinge when she saw the small, tucked up body of Thrash (never mind how big it was in comparison to her) as Twitch landed next to him, chatting away as if he was conscious. 

“Complain to me all you want when the job is done.” Charlie said cheerfully, standing aside to let Bumblebee lower the motorcycle to the ground. “You can get me back later.”

“I can only try.” Bumblebee mumbled, settling to a seat. “Rough estimate?”

“If I go overtime, I might have this done by one in the morning.” Charlie said, already picking up her toolbox to start working.

“That’s not overtime for you, that’s average hours.”

“At least let me pretend in company, yeah?” Charlie huffed, already beginning to take apart the motorcycle.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Dot leaned against the wall, “you’re not finding any normal folks here.”

“What gave it away?” Charlie drawled.

Bumblebee tried very hard not to smile. He was failing rather miserably.

Hashtag was never good at going to bed on time.

In fact, in her short life, she was pretty sure the only time she recharged at a reasonable hour was the day after the Mandroid Incident, which was her first ever recharge. All other days, she’d lie awake. Sometimes it was paranoia, usually it was staring at her phone and scrolling the internet. 

She fell asleep eventually, she just sometimes had her phone over her face when she did. So it was fine, Mom, no need to check in on her.

Hashtag couldn't really do that now, though. Not with Charlie and Bumblebee helping Thrash all night.

They eventually decided they couldn’t let the Terrans just sleep outside. So they all got into their sleep-pile up in the loft, pushed away into a corner. The lights from Bumblebee and Charlie could be distracting, but turning the other way helped.

Twitch had forgone the pile again. She instead tucked herself off to the edge of the loft, where she had been silently watching Charlie work until she fell asleep. When Hashtag looked over from her phone, she found Twitch was slumped in a very uncomfortable position, dead to the world.

Jawbreaker had splayed out wildly at some point, with Nightshade curled up all neatly on his chest. Hashtag was leaning against Jawbreaker’s side, who usually slept right through her bright screen in his face.

She yawned, having just woken up from a light doze while watching…some weird thing where humans put small rocks on their back, she didn’t understand it. She leaned her helm, optics closing as she considered if she wanted to trek onwards. Mom had already gone to bed at some point, clearly. Hashtag didn’t know why Charlie hadn’t left yet.

“I think he’s waking up.”

Hashtag’s optics darted to the edge of the loft.

“He’s not.” Came Bumblebee’s soft voice. “...not completely, anyway.”

“Well, it kicked some of the pumps alive.” Charlie’s more distant voice muttered. “Rag.”

“Rag delivered.” Bumblebee sounded amused, alongside some shuffling.

Hashtag, because she was inherently a deeply curious mech who went down unadvisable rabbit holes, peeled herself away from Jawbreaker, who just snored in response. She creeped along the loft, mindful of creaky wood. One servo gripped the edge of the loft as she peered down.

Bumblebee was sitting right in front of Thrash, headlights shining down. Next to him was a myriad of tools, and Charlie had almost half her body buried in the hole where Thrash’s engine was meant to be, and where it was currently still being attached together. 

“I’m definitely gonna end up staining the shower when this is over.” Charlie’s voice came muffled from within.

“No different from home.” Bumblebee quipped, arm resting over his bent knee. “You think it’s about ready? When the fluids calm again, I mean.”

“Should be.” Charlie leaned back up onto her feet, picking up a rag next to her and wiping off her face. “Terrans are built differently than you big guys.”

“Well, to be fair, you’ve only seen the inner workings of one Cybertronian.” Bumblebee shrugged.

“And you’re just so special.” Charlie teased, grinning up towards him.

“Not like you’d know otherwise.” Bumblebee sniffed, an upwards quirk to his mouth. 

“I’ve seen junkyard cars with better heat exchangers than you.” Charlie lightly smacked him with the rag, then moved away to grab more tools. Hashtag finally got to see that Thrash’s engine had been placed inside his chassis compartment, but clearly had yet to be properly attached—or aligned. 

“They’re perfectly fine.” Bumblebee scoffed.

“Might be now.” Charlie leaned down and picked up her tools, returning to Thrash and sticking her arms inside. “I don’t know what else you've replaced.”

Bumblebee’s face pinched a little, optics darting to the side. Charlie didn’t look back up, so Hashtag couldn’t tell what her expression was when she spoke, or what it became in the few awkward seconds of silence.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Came the quietest mumble Hashtag had ever heard from Bumblebee—at least when he wasn’t annoyed.

“Bee, it's impossible not to worry about you.” Charlie finally looked up, turning towards him. Her back was to Hashtag, and she wished for a camera to see what her face looked like. “I mean, look at you.” She gestured with one hand. “Were you just never going to mention the whole chassis replacement? Don’t you dare say it's because of the alt mode change,” She raised a hand when Bumblebee opened his mouth, “that is not a natural change. Ford’s do not naturally have windshields that reinforced.”

Bumblebee slowly shut his mouth again. He slumped, leaning away and turning his optics to the ground. Charlie watched him for a moment, then sighed and dug herself back into Thrash’s engine chamber.

Hashtag wished there was a fast-forward button. This was… uncomfortable. Well, she was recording it (she recorded everything), so she could maybe just…cut this out later. For analyzing purposes.

“You could take a look.” Bumblebee mumbled.

“Hm?” Charlie didn’t move back.

“I wouldn’t mind a tune-up.” Bumblebee shrugged one shoulder awkwardly, staring off at the wall. “If you wanted to, y’know…see what changed. And I mean, it's nothing but beneficial.” He tacked on quickly. “If–if there's ever another problem, then it's best you already know what I’m supposed to look like, so you know how to fix it, and…”

“That eager to get me back in there?” Charlie’s voice drifted, and it sounded just a bit teasing.

“That— Charlie.” Bumblebee gave a deadpan look, and Charlie may have snickered before she rose out of Thrash again, and Hashtag saw her smile was softer. “Come on.”

“I know, I know.” She said gently. “When we’ve got the time, of course I will. I wanna see what high-powered parts they decided to throw into you.”

“Only the best.” Bumblebee tried a small smile himself, and his radio quietly sang, “she’s wise and she’s kind, she’s tough but she knows how to unwind.”

“Don’t,” Charlie warned with a laugh, knocking her tool against Bumblebee’s leg with a clang, then went back to work. “Did you fight to keep that radio?”

“I don’t follow.” Bumblebee said, resting his cheek in his servo, definitely following.

“Well, you had to make a new compartment for that radio once you got all those replacements.” Charlie said over her shoulder. “You may look all high-tech on the dashboard, but I can see where there's still some dust on you.”

“California dust never goes away.” Bumblebee said lightly, smiling as he watched her. Hashtag zoomed her optics in on it. 

“Damn right, much too wet out here.” Charlie teased, arm jerking, and a clink sounding from within Thrash. “Wrench.”

“One wrench,” Bumblebee parroted, picking up a tool next to him, delicate between his digits, and handed it over. 

“And when I do pop open that hood of yours,” Charlie went on, taking the wrench down to Thrash’s engine, “I want an explanation for every single thing I see that changed.”

“Even a shock absorber?” Bumblebee tried to sound teasing. 

“Bee,” Charlie’s voice was sterner, and he went a bit still, “I know damn well you don’t tell me how many fights you get into.” Her head raised, just a little, and Hashtag saw a narrowed eye pointed towards Bumblebee. “And I know you don’t change anything unless there's no other choice.”

Bumblebee thinned his mouth, and we couldn’t meet her eye. Charlie didn’t let up.

“What’s the point?” He mumbled, trying to wave a servo. “You couldn’t have done anything then. Doesn’t matter how I got anything changed now, either.”

“So you did get into that much trouble.” Charlie very pointedly turned her attention on Thrash again. “Bee—”

“What could you have done?” Bumblebee hissed, lip curling, enough that Hashtag jolted a little. “Tell me, what would it have done except worry you? Oh, sorry, I had a near-death experience while I was on a mission, hope you don’t stay up all night scared sick?”

“And if you did die?” Charlie was up and whirled around at breakneck speeds, and when Bumblebee flinched back a bit, Hashtag followed suit. “If you had something break, something they couldn’t fix, were you just going to call me, say you’ll see me next week, and I never hear from you again? Is that kinder? Is that better?”

“If I was going offline, trust me that I never would’ve had the time to call you.” Bumblebee didn’t growl, but his helm was down and his shoulders were tense. 

“I trust you more than you seem to think.” Charlie snapped, and Bumblebee’s optics shut, just for a minute. 

The silence was… ohhh, Hashtag did not like it. She hated every second of it. She should—she should go back to sleep, maybe. Recharge was…better than this. In every conceivable way. This sucked.

Hashtag started to lean back a little, attempting to scoot towards the sleeping pile of siblings. Then paused.

“It’s hard not to worry about you, too.” Came the softest, quietest little mumble, digits curled into a near-fist.

Charlie slumped. She sighed, running a greasy hand through her matted hair. Bumblebee leaned against the barn wall, looking high up at the roof. 

Hashtag had seen memes online of people being awkward when their friends' parents fought, and she never really understood it, but—alright, maybe this was…what it felt like.

“Guess we’re both pains in the ass.” Charlie mumbled, and trudged back to Thrash. “Size six gear.”

Bumblebee silently picked up said gear among the pile of parts and tools, fumbling a little before offering it to her. She let it drop into her palm.

“Least you get to yell at me in person, right?” Bumblebee murmured.

“There's that.” Charlie gave a tiny nod to the side, and something clinked together as she worked on the engine. “The calls didn’t do you justice.”

“No?” Bumblebee hummed, helm lifting a little.

“You got new markings.” She said without looking back. “They look a lot cuter up close.”

“Yeah?” Bumblebee started to smile, optics flashing to light as he leaned down, and Charlie paused only momentarily with the slight change of light sources. “That all?”

“Don’t fish for compliments when I’m mad at you.” Charlie warned, waving a wrench haphazardly over her shoulder, of which Bumblebee only had to lean back a little to avoid being hit with. 

“You complimented me first.” Bumblebee sounded teasing. “Getting mixed signals here.”

“I’m getting mixed signals in my brain. You have any idea how complicated it is to be mad at you?” Charlie dared look over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Bumblebee’s optics flickered, “I might have a vague idea.”

Charlie deflated a tad, and she had something like a smile trying to form. She sighed, turning around and setting the wrench on top of the engine, reaching a hand up to cup the side of Bumblebee’s helm, of which he gently leaned into.

“What are we gonna do with each other?” Charlie murmured, so very soft.

“Same thing we always do, I suppose.” Bumblebee chuckled, a rumble in his chassis. He paused. “Don’t say—”

“Take over the world.”

“I don’t know why I try.” He sighed, deep and heavy, and Charlie’s giggle made everything slowly unwind in Hashtag’s wires.

“You know why.” Charlie leaned up on her toes, forehead resting against Bumblebee’s. 

“I question myself sometimes.” Bumblebee huffed, and Charlie mock-scoffed in offense, smacking his shoulder. “Don’t act like you don’t either.”

“Never,” Charlie teased, noses brushing before she pulled back, “or I’m smart enough not to say it.”

“Please, thinking things through has never been your strong suit.”

“Easy there, pot, the kettle is working.” Charlie snarked.

Bumblebee rolled his optics with a huff, but he was smiling, Charlie was smiling, and the barn itself felt so much lighter as Charlie returned to work.

Hashtag rested her helm on her crossed arms, letting her optics droop. She wouldn’t mind waiting for sleep to find her, listening to them talk and fix her brother.

Besides, they’d have a lot of good footage to review in the morning.

She might just cut out a few parts.

Chapter Text

Robby woke up and felt… ecstatic.

He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. It felt artificial, in the way that meant it buzzed from his cybersleeve. 

He also felt…fine. There wasn’t any…weird quietness, or something that felt wrong and ill in the back of his mind.

Robby clenched his hand with the sleeve, turning it over and watching it glow. Then he threw off the covers and beelined for the stairs.

Mo was coming out of her room at the same time, looking just as hopeful as he dared feel. He didn’t pause, skipping down the stairs too fast, hearing Mo stumbling after. He thought he heard Dad give a greeting, but he didn’t care, rushing for the front door and shouldering it open.

And was promptly tackled to the ground.

“You’re so slow!” Twitch shouted in his ear. 

“I just woke up!” Robby shoved at her, and it was only by her own volition that she rolled off.

“Is Thrash up?” Mo appeared in the doorway. “Is—?”

A loud, boisterous cheer rang out.

Robby snapped his head up, hearing an engine rev. And a moment later, a motorcycle sped by at top speed, hollering to the wind.

“Thrash!” Robby and Mo exclaimed, and they were racing off the front porch in a flash.

Thrash spun in a circle, trying to do a wheelie (and realizing how difficult that was, promptly dropping back down and instead doing a semi-cool drift). Hashtag and Nightshade were calling out points for his tricks from where they sat on the grass, Jawbreaker occasionally trying to grab Thrash in some game of chase.

“Hey, guys!” Thrash called, spinning once more and transforming out—a poor imitation of a move Bumblebee liked to do, because he fumbled, tripped, and fell right on his side.

“You’re okay!” Mo cheered, somehow getting there first and practically jumping right on top of Thrash.

“When were you fixed?” Robby slid to his knees, throwing his arms around Thrash’s neck. The Terran just laughed, hugging them both right back, curling into them as tightly as he safely could.

“Earlier,” Thrash muffled into Robby’s shoulder, “they made me do so many boring tests.”

“You feel great!” Mo laughed, cybersleeve glowing as she tried to hug around his chassis.

“I feel great!” Thrash sat up, taking both of them with him. “I feel fresh. You ever feel fresh? It's great.”

“A new engine will do that, I hear.” Nightshade called from their seat.

“Seems we didn’t have to tell you kids the good news.”

Robby and Mo looked back to find Mom leaning in the doorway, arms crossed with a smile. 

“You couldn’t have woken us up?” Robby was half-joking, finally peeling off Thrash so he could stand. Thrash kept one arm under Mo though, picking her up (of which she was delighted).

“Figured you could be a little late to school.” Mom shrugged. “Surprise.”

“Best surprise ever!” Mo leaned back against Thrash’s chassis, and he just grinned and avoided Twitch colliding with his helm.

“We have so much to catch you up on.” Twitch was as bright as ever, brighter than she’d been in days. “And really embarrassing Bumblebee stories.”

“I veto that!” Came a call.

Robby and Mo turned to see Bumblebee scarcely looking up from where he was walking out of the barn, carrying the new motorcycle, now devoid of an engine, off towards the house. He was particularly grumpy. 

“You’re such a spoilsport.” Charlie followed behind him, looking—exhausted, honestly.

“You think I won’t tell them embarrassing stories about you?” Bumblebee challenged.

“You’d be hard-pressed to find something that actually embarasses me.” Charlie said simply. “Life is a lot easier when you stop caring about small things.”

“She’s smart.” Mom hummed, ignoring Bumblebee’s long-suffering sigh as he strode towards the garage. “Now, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you kids to watch yourselves in the future.”

“No water in the tanks, even if we’re supposedly drinking good water.” Thrash saluted. “I am very aware!”

“And you,” Mom kept her finger pointed towards Thrash, “I want you to take it easy. Get some time to adjust to your new engine. Bumblebee might put you up to some real slow training otherwise to get you used to it.”

“I can’t already?” Bumblebee called from the garage.

“Taking it easy and not moving, I got it!” Thrash said quickly, setting Mo down and immediately turning on his heel to go towards his Terran siblings. “I will be moving so little I will look like a slug.”

“Don’t do that.” Charlie left the garage, a rag slung over her shoulder. “Engine like that should run a bit to get used to being in a frame like yours.”

“How do you move a moderate amount?” Thrash groaned, thumping down to sit next to Hashtag.

“Jogging?” Jawbreaker suggested. 

“I’ll tell you the limit is racing.” Mom said, but she was smiling. “Kids, I’ll let you catch up till it's about lunchtime at school. Then you’re going straight over, understood?”

“Understood!” Robby and Mo chorused. 

“Thank you, Mom!” Robby crowed, already running over to join whatever his siblings would be doing.

“We’ll be ready when we’re supposed to!” Mo added, following.

“I’m sure you won’t.” Mom chuckled, and Robby looked back just in time to see her waving a hand towards Charlie, beckoning her inside.

Bumblebee was watching her leave.

“That's Charlie?”

“It is!” Mo whisper-yelled, pushing Thrash so he wouldn’t so obviously lean out from behind the barn to stare where Charlie was talking with Mom at the kitchen window. “So shh!”

“Whoa,” Thrash stared off, “I totally just cracked this case. You’re all so welcome.”

Twitch hit him hard over the shoulder.

“That is a terrible way to make a crack in the case!” She scolded. “You do that again and I’ll throw you into a lake!”

“It wasn’t really my fault!” Thrash protested, shoving her back. Jawbreaker took a seat closer to Robby and Mo, he and the other siblings blankly watching as Thrash and Twitch got back into their usual tussling. 

They were all smart enough not to comment that Twitch was definitely going easy.

“So,” Hashtag leaned over, “you wanna see some snooping spy-work I did on them? I got good stuff.”

“How good?” Robby narrowed his eyes.

“Hm,” Hashtag thought it over, “they had a fight.”

“They did?” All heads whirled around, even Thrash and Twitch’s.

“I mean, not a bad one. I think,” Hashtag cringed. “I don’t know, it felt weird. It wasn’t—the fights online looked a lot funnier than this.” She shrunk down a bit, arms wrapped around herself.

“But they seem fine now.” Mo frowned.

“I mean, they sounded fine at the end.” Hashtag said. “I–I guess ‘fight’ is a big word. Argument? I don’t know. Charlie just seemed…worried about Bumblebee.”

“Is he in trouble?” Jawbreaker fretted.

“No, no, like—general worry for wellbeing kinda stuff.”

“Wouldn’t that be unnecessary?” Nightshade ventured. “It is Bumblebee, after all. From what I understand, he seems to be a greatly powerful Autobot, why should anyone need to worry about him?”

“You worry about people no matter how safe they are.” Mo said, tucking her knees up and resting her chin on them. “Mom and Dad were worried about us before we even met transformers. I worried about Dad driving home in a storm once. You get scared for the people you love all the time.”

“Whoa, whoa, come on, now,” Twitch rolled out from under Thrash and let his helm conk into the ground, “let's not be crazy here. I can start to believe that Bumblebee has friends, but nobody said anything about love.”

“You tend to love people you call friends, Twitch.” Robby snorted, raising a brow. “At least enough to worry about them.”

“Oh, God, you do?” Twitch stared, optics wide. “Oh no,” She looked at the ground, comically horrified.

“Well, since Thrash has been fixed,” Nightshade went on, “would now not be an ideal time to question Bumblebee on his supposed secrecy with Charlie?”

“No, no, we gotta have tact.” Robby insisted. “We can’t just walk in and admit we were spying on Bumblebee, then announce we know a bunch of secrets. That’s how we get grounded for life and no answers.”

“Also it’d be rude to reveal that in front of Mom and Dad.” Mo added. “He probably had her hidden for a reason.”

“The reason is that he’s breaking the rules of a Prime.” Thrash snorted. “And he’s worried Optimus is gonna ground him.”

“I would be worried about being grounded by Optimus.” Jawbreaker mumbled.

“I did do a little digging,” Hashtag interrupted, “that may or may not have just been asking a lot of questions, but, I mean,” She shrugged, “if I made a friend and someone told me to stop talking to her? I don’t think I’d follow it, either.”

“But it’s Bee.” Twitch protested.

“No matter how stupid the order is, he follows them.” Thrash insisted, perhaps with a bit of a scoff. “Maybe it’s because she’s, like, his only friend?”

“I thought he was friends with Arcee?”

“Well, yeah, but he clearly hasn’t talked to them in a while. Hiding for nine years, and all that.”

“We should keep it a secret.” Robby said, earning everyone's attention. “I mean, definitely ask Bumblebee and Charlie some questions when we figure out, er, how to do that, but…” He gave a little shrug, then buried half his face in his knees. “I don’t want to get Bee in trouble just for trying to keep his friend.”

Mo frowned, a soft, understanding thing. She scooted closer to Robby, leaning against his side. The Terrans sank a little themselves, something bittersweet and remorseful flickering through the link.

“Well, perhaps we could disguise our questions as mere curiosity.” Nightshade spoke at last. “Ask how they met, how they became friends. Through that, it should be pretty easy to determine what makes Charlie so special that Bumblebee couldn’t afford to lose contact with her.”

“Friendship aside, she’s gotta be a big deal if big ol’ Optimus didn’t scare him into following orders.” Thrash agreed. “And, I mean, she’s good with machines,” He lifted his servos, turning them over, “so there’s a point there.”

“I think asking some questions couldn’t hurt.” Mo shrugged. 

“Charlie does like sharing embarrassing stories.” Jawbreaker admitted. 

“Speaking of sharing,” Nightshade leaned over on Hashtag’s side, “what's that video you said you had?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Hashtag tucked up her knees and pressed a digit to the side of her head, optics flashing before projecting a screen. “I edited it down a little for, uh, the sake of efficiency.” She cleared her throat. “But here.”

The kids all huddled around, Nightshade taking the high ground (read: perched halfway over Jawbreaker’s back) to make sure no one came over and saw what they were doing. Everyone else peered closely at the projection of Bumblebee and Charlie as they talked.

Hashtag stayed quiet between the splicing cuts, hiding the angrier parts of the argument, the more worrisome ones. What she kept in got the message across well enough.

Nightshade had started paying full attention themself at one point, only sparing the occasional glance to their surroundings. To be fair, finding a kid keeping lookout was a lot more suspicious than seeing the same group of kids all huddled in the same spot.

When the projection ended, Hashtag clicked it off.

The kids all frowned in thought for a few moments. 

“So, I’m gonna assume we don’t ask Bumblebee about his coolest battle scars?” Thrash pressed his servos together.

“I vote we ask how many times he’s needed Charlie to patch him up.” Twitch said immediately, perching herself over Thrash’s shoulders.

“Okay, you know what,” Robby held out his hands, “let's just start small on the game plan.”

“Oooh, I love games.” Hashtag brightened instantly. “Can I be DPS?”

“Sure, Hashtag, sure you can.”

Chapter Text

“I want to preface that I’m very sure this question is going to come off wrong.”

“Off to a fantastic start.” Dot couldn’t help teasing, taking hold of the coffee Alex had made for her. He’d since left for work, and she had another ranger on duty till her shift in a bit. Enough time to make sure the kids got to school. “Go on.”

“They’re…actually your kids, huh?” Charlie said slowly, hovering a moment before picking up the sandwich she’d been offered. Apparently she’d been up long enough that breakfast foods didn’t ‘feel right’. 

“Ah, I see.” Dot took a sip. “Yes, they are. Believe me, I did not go in with the intention of adopting sentient machinery, but, well,” She shrugged, gesturing out loosely with her mug, “here we are.”

“I doubt Bumblebee planned on getting attached to them, either.” Charlie teased. “Don’t worry, you’re not alone in that.”

“Are we talking about me?” Bumblebee’s head appeared some feet away from the cracked window (because Dot got anxious if she couldn’t at least hear if her kids were yelling for help). “Also, I put everything away. You think I should bother telling Arcee we got backup motorcycle parts for her if she needs them?” Bumblebee tilted his helm—then immediately settled on his knees and pulled up his comm. “Actually, never mind, I’ll tell her anyway.”

“What can I say? They’re good kids.” Dot chuckled, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “I’m sure some other human has already taken in Cybertronians as family, there’s no way we’re the first.”

“You’d be the first with a Terran.” Charlie pointed out, then took a bite of her sandwich. 

“In our defense,” Bumblebee didn’t even look up from his comm, because he decided he was now fully part of the conversation, “humans pack-bond really easily.”

“Oh, shut up.” Charlie muffled around her food, then swallowed hastily to point a lazy, but very accusing finger. “You are the last person to be talking right now. You can complain all you want about humans being clingy, but you’re so known for getting human attachments even the news has talked about it.”

“Once!” Bumblebee whirled his helm up. “You saw a news anchor mention it once.”

“And I’m sure it's happened even more than that.” Charlie said easily, leaning her head to the side to give Dot a very smug look, to which she could only shrug and smile. 

“It has.” Dot agreed, Bumblebee giving a betrayed stare. “Brought it up in the ranks, every now and then. I never got to see Bee for more than a minute, more attached to Megatron,” She went on, choosing not to linger on it, “but it used to be a bit of a half-joke: if you’re down, try and see if Bumblebee’s nearby.”

“I did notice a lot of rescue missions with humans.” Bumblebee mumbled, squinting off into the distance.

“You did men—” Charlie cleared her throat, took another bite of her sandwich, a small one. “I did hear about that. Every now and then.”

“It, uh, it wasn’t that interesting.” Bumblebee kept his helm pointed away, resting his chin on his fist, glancing to where he could see the kids scurrying out from behind the barn. It was pointed enough that Dot took notice as she sipped her coffee.

“Still,” Dot said, carefully, “I see no point in denying you kinda like us.”

“I’d say it's more than kinda.” Charlie said with a fiendish grin on her face, resting her chin on her palm as she slid her gaze Bumblebee’s way. He glanced back with an embarrassed huff, which was absolutely insane for Dot to see—the faintest glow of purple from energon pumped in too-high amounts in his face. “You have a soft spot.”

“Why are we talking about me, again?” Bumblebee grumbled. “I remember we were talking about the kids. I prefer the kids.”

“I’m actually rather interested, if you don’t mind.” Dot delicately put her mug down, and was careful in not looking up when Bumblebee’s frame tensed, just a little. “I mean, even in the barracks we knew Bumblebee was a softie for humans,” She had to smile just a little bit, “but I’m still surprised he somehow got a friend like you.” She paused. “I mean that non-offensively.”

“I know what you meant.” Charlie said, though she shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. “And, well, I mean, it’s…it’s not really that interesting of a story.”

“I told you the basics.” Bumblebee agreed.

“Well, I’m curious, so sue me.” Dot shrugged. “You hadn’t even heard of transformers by that point, had you?”

“No one had.” Charlie admitted, taking another small bite of her food. “First human to meet them and all.”

“I didn’t know that part.” Dot’s eyebrows shot up.

“I was just scouting, got a little lost and disoriented.” Bumblebee cut-in. “All things considered, I mean, she took it pretty well. Mirage met a guy who was a lot more, er, freaked out.”

“‘Pretty well’, huh?” Charlie snorted. “I let you sleep in my garage the first night you came back online, I took it amazingly.”

“Yeah, concerningly so, I’d say.” Bumblebee scoffed.

“I’m told you saved his life.” Dot said as conversationally as possible.

“Well,” And here was a thing Dot hadn’t seen before: Charlie looking shy. “I think he would’ve been fine eventually.”

“Don’t start this conversation again.” Bumblebee sighed, sounding half-joking. “You know you did.”

“You would have fixed yourself up eventually.” Charlie insisted. “I sped the process along and kept you from walking into oncoming traffic.”

“I wasn’t that bad.” Bumblebee turned to Dot quickly.

“Oh my God, yes you were.”

“I was not!”

“He’s embarrassed.” Charlie informed Dot, very matter-of-fact, then turned to Bumblebee. “Bee, you were partially transforming on the open road in broad daylight.”

“Okay, you know what,” Bumblebee scoffed, leaning back and readjusting his seat, Charlie snickering into her hand, “you took me to vandalize a girl’s car.”

“Do not say that in company, I was eighteen!” Charlie made a move like she would’ve smacked Bumblebee’s arm if he was close enough. “You did a whole lot worse than what me and Memo had planned!”

“You took me to vandalize a car.”

“Exciting time, then?” Dot gently cut-in, eyes darting between the two of them rapidly. Oh, the way all of this just turned very entertaining. And confusing.

“...something like that.” Charlie cleared her throat, settling back into her seat. “Again, okay, I was eighteen.”

“It was two eighteen-year-olds.” Bumblebee corrected. “How’s Memo, by the way?”

“There are two undocumented people who knew about transformers before the rest of the world?” Dot felt like she was a minute away from a headache.

“Still somehow got that girl to stay with him.” Charlie went on easily, ignoring Dot. “The one down by the beach, remember?”

“Are you sure she's that far out of his league?” Bumblebee frowned. 

“Most girls are out of his league.” Charlie snorted, which got a near barked-out laugh from Bumblebee. “Listen, I love the guy, but you know—you know what I mean.”

“Do we need to worry about this guy too?” Dot stressed.

“Oh, no, no, definitely not.” Charlie assured quickly. “He doesn’t have a lot of experience with cars, and he’s smart. He keeps his mouth shut. He wants to hear from you, by the way.” She turned her head back to Bumblebee. “Got on my ass about being the message ferrier.”

“He knows why.” Bumblebee puffed.

“Well, since Optimus let me come here,” Charlie shrugged, “I don’t think he’s in the position to complain about you sending a text.”

“It’s Optimus.” Dot raised a brow. “Trust me, he finds a reason to take issue. He’s just very guilty and sad about it, unlike Megatron, who’s an annoying little bitch about his complaints.”

“Charming,” Charlie hummed.

“He grows on you.” Dot said while downing the last drop of her coffee, choosing to ignore the so-so gesture Bumblebee was making with his servo. “Still, must’ve left quite the impact that you went all the way back to California once you had to hide.” She slipped her eyes to Bumblebee.

“Well—yeah, course it did.” Bumblebee said, like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. “You don’t forget people like that. Besides,” He said with a cough, “you know, had to make sure they were alright. And stuff.”

“You’re so sweet.” Charlie teased. “I missed you too, you metal lump.”

“Well, I knew that.” Bumblebee snorted, the fondest little smile quirking on his face. 

“Don’t push it, you’re not that cute.”

“That doesn’t quite sound like hiding to me.” Dot couldn’t help saying with a grin. “Sounds more like you took an unapproved retirement. And in California, no less.”

“It wasn’t a retirement.” Bumblebee puffed, affronted. “I’m not retired. Nor am I even old enough to dream of retirement. Not that I want it. Because I don’t.”

“Vacation.” Charlie corrected with an amused roll of her eyes. “It was like a vacation.”

“Exactly, see? Vacation. No retirement.” Bumblebee agreed sagely.

“So you crash landed on Earth,” Dot summarized, “got your life saved by a random eighteen-year-old girl, went off to fight a war, then went back, then Optimus Prime yelled at you, and now we’re here.” She raised a brow. “Do I have that right?” 

“He didn’t yell at me.” Bumblebee grumbled, looking away. “Optimus doesn’t yell.”

“Yeah, you picked up his sadly-disappointed-face instead.” Charlie snorted, taking the last bite of her sandwich in one go.

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

“I can see it.” Dot nodded, and he gave her a deeply betrayed expression. She really didn’t know why he thought she’d be on his side.

Bumblebee’s radio clicked on and out sang, “I ain’t gonna take your shit no more,” coinciding along with a gruff as he pushed himself to his pedes, Charlie light-heartedly booing after him. He turned off his radio in time to say, “I’ll check on Thrash.” 

“What, you don’t think my handiwork is reliable?” Charlie taunted, voice raising as she leaned by the window to watch him go. 

“Not even Ratchet’s handiwork could stand against a Terran’s troublemaking.” Bumblebee called over his shoulder, not looking back.

“He’s one to talk.” Charlie muttered, Dot trying very hard to bite her tongue as she turned back and took a napkin to wipe off crumbs. 

Dot began to move to take the plate, but Charlie was already taking hers to the sink, offering to take the mug as well. Dot decided to let her, remaining seated as she watched. She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment.

“You must have missed him.” She settled on.

Charlie paused, just for a second.

“Yeah,” She chuckled lightly, “well, you never really get over befriending your first alien.”

“Not quite what I meant.” Dot hummed. Let it hang for a second. “You’re taking it all pretty well. You two catching up alright?”

“Oh, yeah, in-between fixing up Thrash and whatnot.” Charlie said, leaning against the counter after she set the dishes down. “Bee’s easy to fall back into routine with, you know? Even when he changes, he’s still Bee.” 

“You don’t ask a lot of questions.” Dot observed. She held back from making it pointed.

“What’s there to ask about?” Charlie shrugged. “Bee cares about you, I don't have anything else I need to know.”

Dot paused for a moment at that. Felt the tiny pointedness slip away, however briefly. It was too genuine and smooth of a sentence to be a cover-up. That, she believed, was honest.

“You know, sometimes I think I understand why Bumblebee likes you.” Dot said, smiling a little. “And sometimes I know you have to drive him up the wall.” 

“My running theory is that he’s a masochist in denial.” Charlie quipped. 

Dot didn’t bother biting back her laugh. Bumblebee wasn’t there to protest, and Charlie looked far too pleased with herself to keep a straight face.