Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Can’t believe I’m buying him a car…” Ron says in a proud tone that’s laced with small hints of annoyance
“He’s sure as hell worked hard for it. But, it’s still quite a bit of money.” I force down a chuckle, if there’s one thing I know for sure it’s that Ron is definitely a cheap skate.

My name is… On second thought, I’ll keep my name a secret from you. Make this book a mystery of sorts. Anyway, I was adopted by the Whitwicky family a few years ago. I think I was like 6 or 7? Don’t remember, it’s not that important anyway. Ron, the man who’s currently talking, is my adopted father. He’s a decent guy by my standards… A little sexist too but that’s slowly beginning to change. Regardless, he's a good guy, and would never want to have anyone else be my dad. That’s a lie, having a robot as a parent would also be very cool, but it's close.

“What’s got ya smiling so much…” he pauses momentarily, trying to correct his unspoken words, “kid?” Fun fact about me: I don't have gender. And, not having that in the year 2007 isn’t very common. Both Ron and Judy have a little trouble with the concept, sometimes slipping up and calling me a girl or something similar, but they always try to correct themselves, something I’m very grateful for. Not every day, you’re lucky enough to get adopted by a supportive family…

Tossing those thoughts to the side, my smile widens as my laughter stifles out. “Yo- you’re such a cheapskate!”

Seeing that I’m making a joke, Ron’s old-man laughter starts up, sounding like an old car engine. His laugh has always been funny. “Ya got me there kid.. But don’t go saying that to Judy. That woman will never let me live it down!”

He puts his hand on my head and ruffles my short, brown hair affectionately messing it all up. Damn it, Judy spent at least 5 minutes on that this morning! Letting out a displeased squeal as I tried to get away from the affection, trying my best to protect the lovely work Judy did. It’s all joking, of course, it’s just hair. But, I still feel slightly bad about messing up her hard work and the green convertible we’re in doesn’t help with my efforts to protect it thanks to the very little room in the backseat.

“You’re having all this fun without me!” A voice suddenly says picking me up from my armpits, taking me away from the front seat. “And you’re in my seat!” It’s Sam! He’s my brother and the one Ron’s buying the car for. I start kicking my legs back and forth, yelling at him to put me down. Unfortunately for me, he does, just at the cost of the lovely front seat.

Letting out an annoyed sigh I sit up and fix my hair. I’ll get my revenge eventually… Maybe I’ll steal those old glasses he’s trying to sell. Of course, I won’t do anything to them, that would just be an asshole thing to do. I’m a thief, not an asshole… plus, I’ll return them if he asks or really needs them.

Once he sees that I’m safe in the back of the car (the unfortunate disadvantage of being a 13-year-old, LET ME BE SILLY AND DANGEROUS!) Sam shoves a paper into Dad’s face, boating in with a large grin.

Ron snatches the paper from his hands, mumbling something under his breath while scouring the paper, looking for the fateful grade that will either make or break this moment for Sam.

“It’s an A-,” Sam quickly states, trying to defend the grade like it’s the last thing he’ll do, “Still an A though.”

“Technically it’s not tho…” I bud in, trying to get under his skin. I know it’s still an a and I know that Ron will still take it, if he didn’t both of us would be pissed cause he deserves a car. But, it’s still fun to piss him off sometimes.

He shoots me a glare, knowing what I’m doing. Mission accomplished, my boy is angy. Sam quickly brushes off my successful attempt to annoy him and looks back towards Ron, waiting for his answer, ready to protest if he says no. He knows he won’t, but the anxiety that he will is still there.

“Alright,” he says in an exasperated tone, slightly regretting his decision but not going back on his promise, “you're getting a car.”

Jumping out of excitement, Sam lightly smacks the car door before climbing in, asking Dad if he’s really, truly good and getting a car. The response he gets is a small nod and “yeah” as he shakes his head in disbelief, pride, and a little bit of saltiness at the fact that he promised the kid he’d spend a grand on him.

With another yelp of excitement, a backpack gets chucked my way, hitting me with a thump. Knowing he intentionally did that I let out a displeased huff before chucking the backpack to the side.

If I remember correctly, Ron did mention something about pulling a little prank on Sam… Although he said it in a much more slow, cringy way that made me remember that he, in fact, was my father and an old man.

Anyway, I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes the dealership that we’re going to. Until then, I got myself a free 15-minute ride full of zoning out and ignoring my dad and brother!

Chapter Text

“Dad, dad, this is where we’re going? Are you kidding me!?” Sam’s voice rings through my ears as we pull into a run-down car dealership. Don’t know why he’s complaining, though. He’ll get over it… eventually.

Who knows, we might even find a hidden gem of a car lingering around in this dump.

The two get out of the car, looking around at all of the less-than-ideal cars. Sam turns to me, asking if I’m going with them.

“In a minute. Just need to find something.” He nods, walking away with Ron. Thank the A03 gods for deception skills… Hehe, Deceptioncons. Now, it’s time for some revenge!

Grabbing Sam’s bag, I start looking through it for those glasses. Honestly, it’s easier to find than I thought it would be. Sam needs to work on hiding his stuff better, especially if he’s trying to sell them. I’ll just keep 'em for a bit until he needs them… but that’s it. Will I damage them in any way, shape, or form? No. It’s still his stuff. If you’re going to be an annoying little shit, you must do it responsibly.

I gently set the glasses into my overall pockets, making sure they won’t get scratched by anything before running after the two standing in front of a yellow car with two black stripes. It looks like a very, very familiar car from a certain movie…That’s it, I’m nicknaming it Bee in honor of Bumblebee, my beloved.

Sam starts to argue with Ron about it before the salesman interjects. OooOo drama! My favorite. Sam gets up and starts to walk to another car... I feel like something’s about to happen. Looking towards Bee, I raise an eyebrow. What’s this bitch about to do? Oh, is it that time already?

Ducking down and covering my head, a weird explosion happens, shattering every single car window, minus Bee. That was really loud... Ow, my ears are ringing. That was very much not a fun time.

“Holy…” Sam starts, voice shaky before he quickly gets up, running to me, “You okay? You’re not hurt, right?” He quickly asks in a panicked tone. OoOo, yay! Big bro protection is my favorite. I say no and get up, asking if he’s okay as well and making sure that the glasses don't break when no one’s looking.

“I’ll give it to you for 3 thousand.” The car salesman said, fear in his voice. Oh hell naw, this bitch is scared shitless of this car and he wants us to pay that much? Not on my watch.
“Bro, it literally just broke the windows on every other car you had. Do you know how easily it could probably do it again?” He looks to the ground, thinking slightly, his fear still there. “Honestly, you’re basically asking us to pay you to be in a death trap!” I really don’t mean any of this, it’s just a good excuse to get a cheaper price. I’ll apologize to Bee later for it.
“But, at the same time, you do wanna make money, right?” The man nods, fidgeting with his fingers. “Honestly, no judgment there. I would do the same. But, you do have to admit, with all of these new things, 3k is not a good price.”
He nods again, biting his tongue. He knows that I’m right but doesn’t want to admit it. “Fine, how about 2 thousand?” That’s hella better than 3. “Deal!”

Chapter Text

“Can I ride with you on the way home?” I ask Sam, putting on my best ‘innocent’ voice. It’s a new car that looks really, really cool. Of course, I wanna ride in it. Plus, I may or may not have gotten the best grade on my most recent test that I really don’t want to tell Dad about.

“Why? Don’t you wanna ride with dad?”

I give him a small glare. “Yes, riding with Dad is fun, but it’s a new car! Plus, I got you the deal on it. Might I add 1k less than it would’ve been.” He rolls his eyes, knowing that isn't the entire reason.

“What else?” Of course, he knows. Somehow, he almost always manages to know if I have another reason to do something. Key word, almost. I can still get away with a lot of things with him, but not all of them.

I start to fidget with my hands, “I may or may not have gotten not the best grade on that one test from today and wanna avoid telling dad about it… I also wanna apologize to Bee…” I say quietly, frustrated with the fact that he can read me so well.

He looks at me with a confused look. “The car's name’s Bee,” I interject before he can say something, “you don’t get a choice in this. That isn’t important, tho. I said a lot of shity things about Bee so the… guy, forgot his name, would give us a cheaper price on him, and now I feel bad, so I wanna apologize.”

Sam looks at me with an annoyed and disbelieving face. “That’s stupid, it’s a car.”

“You’re stupid.”

“No, you’re stupid.”

“No u.”

Buckle up folks, this is gonna be a long ass argument.

— — — — —

Dusting off the old dust and dirt from the car seat, I plop myself down. The familiar scent of metal and leather floods my nose, a comforting smell. Riding in older cars is always a fun thing to do, especially ones that look cool.

“Are you happy now? You finished apologizing to the car?” Sam's voice rings out, annoyance taking over his tone. He’s still mad that I delayed us going home. That just makes me apologize all the better tho-

Folding my arms over my chest, I turn away dramatically, “His name is Bee, and yes, I am happy, thank you very much.”

Another eye roll is stent my way along with a hair ruffle. “When we get home I’m gonna beat your ass.”

“In Minecraft, right?”

He, in return, gives me a confused look. “Why do you keep talking about Minecraft? What even is Minecraft?” Sam questions. Really, he should be used to me saying, “random” shit like this.

“Cube.”

Another questioning glare followed by a loud sigh. He’s tired of my weird, and what he thinks, fake ramblings. Oh well, it sucks to be him I guess cause he’ll have to deal with it until I die… or he dies but that’s the less prefered option.

I’ve always talked about “random” stuff like that, so he should find it normal at this point. But nooooo, he just has to question every little thing I reference… not that I’m complaining, it does make talking about that stuff a lot more fun. Seeing the confusion on an older persons face as I yap about whatever the fuck is very amusing, but he always asks me to explain it which is very less amusing. You should stay oblivious, Sam.

“Whatever, just… don’t distract me while driving.”

Chapter Text

Home at last-

“Finally, you two are home!” the voice of Judy rings out. “It took both of you long enough, I was worried sick!” And there it is, I should’ve expected a small panic attack from her when we got home. I mean, it is 4:39- wait, 4:39?! That argument took way too long! We should’ve been back home at 4! Curse you, time skips, CURSE YOU!

Sam lets out a chuckle, breaking my inner monologue. He sets his backpack down on the couch, thankfully not in the spot where I sit, and moves to head into the garage. “Tell that to this kid, who wanted to apologize to my car…” Sam snarkily says.

“I- well, you have a good heart.”

Yippy! Praise!

“Ask about their latest grade.”

FUCK!

Damit Sam! That was supposed to be something you don’t tell Mom! Just for that, I’m keeping your glasses for longer than I normally would! Will it potentially mess up a little bit of the timeline? Yes. Do I giveafuck? Absolutely not

I start to feel the mom glare pierce through my skull as Judy looks at me with a rage I don’t dare describe. Oh, please stop looking at me like that, I will cry-

“Grade?” She questions, remembering that I did have a test today.

“D...” I mutter, looking down at my feet.

She repeats me in a tone of shock, disbelief, and disappointment. Oh, I hate that… Hate that, hate that, hate that. You are so screwed Sam!

“I can’t believe you! I-” She cuts herself off, taking a deep breath to calm her anger. “Why? You normally get a C+ or a B, never a D. Did you even study like you normally do?”

I nod. “Yes, I did study. But, I studied a week before the test rather than the night before like I usually do.” Why did I do that? I wanted to try something different from my normal routine, see if it would help or not. Turns out, it didn’t.

“Well, you still got a bad grade, so you’re grounded. No TV, video games, friends, or books for 2 days.” YES! A lesser punishment! Normally a low grade like that would get banned from doing shit for 4 days not 2!

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with one last solemn nod. I head up to my room, seeing Sam peek his head out of the garage and give me an apologetic look. Why did that bish even do that? Was it revenge for the argument earlier? Maybe he was just trying to be an asshole.

Hey, at least she didn’t say anything about me drawing! Pulling out a sketchbook, I quickly flip to a brand new page before starting to sketch little guys. Drawing is fun… sometimes. When Artblock strikes, it becomes much less fun.

Oh well, if that does happen, then it happens. Can’t change that. Plus, if I’m right, the plot is soon gonna progress and I can start focusing on our lovely giant robo-boys and figuring out how to help their afters out.

Chapter Text

I let out a sour grumble as I move stone after stone in place. Damned stupid, pretty grass. You see, being grounded in this household comes with a few hidden terms and conditions, one of which being “you become free labor”. And if it isn’t the most annoying thing in the world, I don’t know what is-

That’s a lie, that Sentinel Prime fucker is pretty annoying. Luckily, he shouldn’t show up for a while. In my opinion, Man’s is one of, if not the most annoying, Sentinels in this franchise. I mean; TFA gave him some depth and lore, plus a relatively good design and several funny moments; TFone did wonders for the dudes looks and did such a better job at panting him in an evil light, like manipulating a whole populus into believing you’re this incredible guy when you kinda invented racism on your planet is insane. Still, for the bayverse… he could’ve been so much more.

“Sam, the grass,” Ron’s voice cuts through my thoughts, hating on Sentinel.

Sam cocks his head towards him, giving him a questioning look. “What?” Right, the grass.

One of the rules I don’t like in this household is the “no stepping on Dad’s grass” rule. Like, I know old men like to take care of grass, and I would understand if it were our front lawn. But our yard? The place designated to chill? That I don’t get. It took me forever to convince the man to give me an area that I can roll around and have fun in, and even then, it’s barely any.

“He wants you off the grass cause he doesn’t like footprints on it.” Now he gives me a questioning glare. I glare back at him. The memory of him outing me is still very prominent in my head… also, I don’t like the rule either. So the glare is a mix of hatred and mutual confusion.

Sarcastically, Sam looks behind him, pointing at the lack of nonexistent footprints. “What foot- there's no footprints.” That’s what I’m saying! The only footprints that get left behind are if you stand in place for an hour.

“It’s called a path!” he scolds, “and I didn’t spend all of today making it only for you to not use it.” Hey! I also spent my afternoon making this path. Thank you very much!

Sam walks onto the path, hands raised in defeat, when Mojo barks. It looks like he’s about to say something about his collar, aka, what mother deems as swag. Not on my watch!

“Don’t you dare insult his swag!” Is that what people say nowadays? I think so. Anyways, he will not insult the lovely Mojo’s fit if I’m here. Mom spent a while finding that collar for him.

Where did she even find that collar for him in the first place? Like, no pet stores near us have anything like it. Maybe she got it from eBay- haha, funny reference! Eh, who knows?

Hey, random thought. Shouldn’t Lennox and that team be in the desert right now? That also means that Scorponok is stalking them or some shit like that… Lucky. Actually, not lucky cause Scorponok isn’t on their side. Forgot about that.

“Wow, you are so damn cheap, Ron-” “It’s his first car!” Oh, did he already leave? Man, I wanted to say goodbye to Bee. Curse you, questioning everything that doesn’t make sense! Curse you!

Chapter Text

Making a fake account on eBay just so you can pretend to buy those stupid glasses your older brother is trying to sell, so you can make it so said brother won't be attacked by giant robots, is quite the silly situation… At least, I think it is. But who am I to judge?

Speaking of which, why the hell is Sam so dumb? I mean, our ancestor was one of the first dudes to explore the Arctic. Literally anything he owned should be considered a historical artifact and not be sold to some randos online. Like, what was bro thinking?

That’s besides the point, I guess. What’s more important is you. If you haven’t guessed yet, I know way too much about this world for my own good. I’m not gonna tell you why, cause I just don’t want to. But, I will tell you that, like my other fanfic protags before me, I will try to change the timeline and make everything become more okay for our traumatized robo-aliens and my sibling, plus family, I actually like!

Although I’m gonna try not to get too involved. Aka, I’m not gonna throw myself into the middle of the spotlight and try to fix shit that way. It’s something that, for me personally, will most likely end poorly, very, very poorly.

I don’t plan on talking to the bots at all for the first movie timeline stuff. Keyword: plan. I know that interfering like this will get my silly little aft eventually thrown into the spotlight, but I’ll figure out what to do when that happens.

I also don’t plan on talking to the cons at all for the first movie as well… we’ll, maybe some, but not at all. Although, despite not talking, I do plan on having interactions with them. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be able to have a conversation with Sam that’s filled with some info that’ll make me sound intriguing. Once I do that, I might be able to plant the idea of no killing Jazz/any of the bots into their processors and, since I could be seen as interesting to them, they might just listen.

You might be wondering how that conversation with Sam is going to get transferred to the Decepticons. Well, I present to you Frenzy- wait, is it Rumble? No, no, definitely Frenzy-. The only catch is, the bitch is disguised as Sam’s phone and is listening in! Remember when he does the phone transformation in the middle of the Bee and Barricade fight? Yep, we’re gonna be banking on that for the plan!

It’s stupid af, but it’s what I’m working with here.

I do have a backup plan, though. It’s why I’m making a fake eBay acc.

I’m gonna pretend to be a buyer for the glasses, fake buying them, and then if all hell breaks loose in ways Sam and the bots can’t handle and someone sees that Sam doesn’t have them anymore, I can step in and become the main target. I know, I know, I said I didn’t want to get thrown into the spot light, but this is just a more ‘worst case scenario’ plan, and even if I do get thrown in the spot light, I can pull a lot of shit to get out of said spot light.

What am I gonna do if I get caught? Who knows, we’ll figure out something then if it comes to that.

Chapter Text

“Look, I can't be any clearer than how crystal clear I am. It just stood up.” Sam tries to explain to the deputy who’s looking at him with the most ‘I’m not buying your bs’ face ever.

I kinda wanna defend Sam. I mean, he is speaking the truth, and this man isn’t taking any chances to believe him… naw, he got me grounded so he can suffer.

Also, on a side note, this dude does kinda look like he is on drugs, just a lil bit tho… kinda.

“It just stood up. Wow. It's really neat.” The Deputy starts. Oh, might as well tell you that Sam got his car stolen. Well, Bee just left, but I'm not supposed to know that. “Okay, chiefie. Time to fill her up. And no drippy-drippy. What are you rolling?”

Oh yeah! I forgot this dude accuses Sam of being on drugs. I mean, if I were normal and just heard some rando teen talking about transforming cars, I’d want whatever they’re having. Not really. That’s a joke. Don’t do drugs unless they’re legally prescribed by a literal doctor in a medical office and are for your actual health. And then, when you do that, take them as prescribed and nothing more. Why am I lecturing you on drugs? I’m like, a teen. I shouldn’t care… fuck it, go get high off of the zaza and ignore all previous advice.

“Whippets? Goofballs? A little wowie sauce with the boys?”

Huh? What? Fucking “Wowie Sauce”??? I- no. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from wheezing out a laugh louder than a sonic boom. No way, bro just said that. Like, I get that there are other words for drugs, but I’m like 90% sure that Wowie Sauce and Goofballs are not one of them. If someone walked up to me asking if I wanted to do Wowie Sauce with The Boys, I would laugh myself to death. It sounds so silly, and I love it!

“No, I’m not on drugs.” Sam just looks confused. Mood Sam, mood. I go to make a snarky comment, but all that comes out as a wheeze. He slaps a hand over my mouth in an attempt to stifle my laughter. Sorry, Sam, but this shit is funny.

The deputy slams something down on the desk to interrupt the interaction. It’s Mojo’s meds. “What's this? Found it in your pocket.” He brings the container up to his nose and sniffs it oh nonononononnonononon- I can’t- “Mo-jo.” He sounds so fucking suspicious, and not serious suspicious, funny suspicious.

“This is no laughing matter!” Ouch, targeted much. “Is that what the kids are doing now? Little bit of Mo-jo?” Nope, I’m gone. Goodbye, cruel world, I’m going under the desk to escape the funny because, if I don’t, I fear I will actually die of laughter. This talk has absolutely no reason to be this funny, but it somehow is, and I’m blaming it all on the deputy.

Sam kicks my side, embarrassment flooding his face as he stares at the deputy with shock. “That’s my dog's pain pills,” he sputters out, trying to ignore my laughter. Primus, I feel bad for him right now. But, he can suffer because I haven’t laughed this much in forever.

Ron cuts in, “You know, a chihuahua. A little…”, standing up and pulling me out from under the desk. Father is very much regretting taking me along to pick Sam up from jail… Speaking of which, why did he even do that in the first place? I mean, yeah, sibling in trouble, but I am technically supposed to be grounded, and I’m not supposed to be getting dragged places. I’m also probably not supposed to be in a police station, especially after last time. Don’t worry, last time wasn’t that bad, and I will not be elaborating further.

The deputy slams his hands down on the desk again, making me jump. Holy guaca-fucking-moly that was loud. “What was that!?” he shouts out, looking at Sam like he just muttered something offensive under his breath and, newsflash, he never did. I swear this man is definitely on drugs, cause what?

Sam seems to also be thinking that and gives the man a confused glare, which is pissing off Wacky Man once even more. “You eyeballing my piece, Fifty Cent? You wanna go? Make something happen. Do it. 'Cause I promise you. I will bust you up.”

… “Are you on drugs?” both Sam and I say at the same time. Guess the dude threatening my brother knocked me out of my laughing fit. I give that a questionable hell ya!

The deputy, in his first moment of clarity, just sighs before pointing to the door. Do we get to leave? I look towards Ron, who is still holding my shirt collar. Please, father, say we can leave this weird man?

He ignores me (mean) and signals for Sam to come with him, which he does gratefully. Little does he know, he’s gonna get a talk about drugs from father. Though it is a short talk. Anywho, I wonder how Lennox and his crew are fairing right now… Hehehe, Scorponok should be messing with them again. They’ll make it out. But, until then, I’ll be putting the operation “yap about Transformers in the vicinity of Transformers” into action.

Chapter Text

“Soooo… u good? I mean like, after the whole wacky ahh cop thing?” I ask Sam hesitantly. I know he’s gonna be okay. Of course he is. He’s the MC of this movie. But, he’s still my brother, one I actually care about, and has genuinely tried to be a good sibling to me. Op- lil past life trauma spilling out there! We’ll touch more on that in a later chapter, but now, back to our squecudaled programing of ‘heart to heart sibling talk’.

He sighs and looks at me funny. “You were laughing your ass off the whole time- No!” He muttered the first part, so that means bro is mad at me. I think that’s what that means at least.

“In my defense, it was really funny from my pov! Also, valid, probs shouldn’t have laughed, but when the words ‘wowie-sauce’ came out, I broke.” I do feel kinda bad about it, not that bad, but still a little bad.

“Dad shouldn’t have brought you to that in the first place…”

He is right on that point. The man should’ve had me stay home with Mom. Granted, she can be a softy sometimes, so she might’ve let me off of being grounded a little earlier than scheduled. That’s only if I do something really good like clean the kitchen without asking. Other than that, the woman is the epitome of a stoic knight and won’t break for anyone.

Eh, whatever, time from a mild shift in topic, but not really. “Did your car actually stand up? Like, I already believe you and stuff, I’m just double-checking to make sure you weren’t bull shiting the cop.”

He gives me a look of pure disbelief at this information. “YOU BELIEVE ME?”

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“Right, you're you.”

“There ya go, you're starting to get it.”

Annnd straight back to awkward silence! I love this… I don’t actually, and I would like it to stop. “Do you wanna go get food?” Another distraction, but it’s better than nothing.

I’m looking down at my feet when he stands up. “Yeah, I’d like to do that, but you're grounded. Plus, we have no money and no source of transportation.”

“Heheh, *you* have no money, loser.” That felt a little too mean- why is stealing glasses not mean in my book, but calling someone a loser is!? “Sorry, that was mean.”

“How do you have money? You’re literally 13?” Hah! Sucks to be him, cause now I’m mentally… wait, how old am I mentally? Nope, not gonna think about that yet! I don’t wanna know that info and get sent into a spiral about how old I technically am and how much time passed in my old world and a lot of other things!

I shake off the potential existential dread and give him a smirk. “That’s something that you shall remain oblivious to, my good sir! I also dgaf about the grounding at night, and I have a bike with a wagon. There you go, my effeminate fellow! All your worries are solved!”

“You know I question you all the time? Like, there is genuinely not a point in time where I don’t question you and how you were born into this family.”

“I’m adopted.”