Phantasm
Chapter One: Reality Asylum

Step, step, step.

Long white hallways, asylum silent, he would have called it, except this was an asylum, a deadened hospital… A horror story was unfolding in the basement of the Autobot base now, a deadly and quiet secret that

"We must not tell anyone…"
"No, we shouldn't, it's an anomaly…."

Some anomaly, it was… Sam's best friend, his car, his Bee… An anomaly had claimed him, twisted him like the silent creep of a virus through collapsing veins.

Step, step, step…

His feet clapped on the sterile white floor, Nike to Clorox, echoing off the white walls, in the white hall, like blinding sunlight glaring off the white scrubs he was bound in…. God, did it ache. He had always liked colors, -so had Bumblebee-, and now here they were, wrapped in white together, (at least together).

Together was one of the few things either of them had anymore.

Step, step, step, twenty more, he knew, even though he hadn't been here in months, hadn't even seen Bee by decree of Optimus, and then his parents, and Mikaela, and Ratchet… Him against the world, it seemed, in this dark white hell.

And then he was there. Room twenty-six, and some distant part of him remembered that the base was a refinished hospital, an overdone grave. He knocked, hand trembling, and he wasn't used to feeling so weak.

"… Bee…?"

There was complete silence for a moment, and then the same phantasmal voice,

"Come in, Samuel…"

made him shiver as his fingers curled around cold steel, as his other hand moved to slip the stolen key card into the slot, as he stepped into the room, as Bumblebee's eerily glowing green eyes met his and the hologram smiled viciously.

"Hello."

Sam froze; the lights were off. All he could see, as the door was snapped shut, were Bee's eyes, lighting the darkness some scant feet from him. "T-the lights…"

"Are off," Bee said firmly, shifting, his bare feet scuffing with the stealth of a warrior. The virus had eaten away at his clumsiness as well as his personality, "-and they will remain that way."

Nodding hastily, Sam stayed frozen. "I understand." He peered at the glow of Bee's eyes. Last time he'd seen him, the Autobot had been in his usual mech form, not his holographic one.

"Oh, noticed?" Bee's voice was cold. "I'm not allowed to have my normal body. I'm stuck in this disgusting human form. Apparently they figured out I can overpower them or some shit." He smirked as Sam's jaw clenched. "And believe me, I can. Last time I shot off one of Prowl's doorwings. You should have seen it, Samuel. Quite the gusher… Energon dripping everywhere, the screams… It was delicious."

Sam tensed visibly, glancing away. He'd heard about Prowl. "Not my thing, Bee," he said with surprising bravery; he was shaking still, and Bee noticed.

"Bee? You still hold to that name? Nicknames are childish, Samuel, when will you learn?" Bee clicked his tongue. "They form needless emotional attachments."

Still half-blind, Sam shrugged. "You used to like it."

"I used to be different," Bee snapped. "Weaker."

"Better," Sam replied, his tone harsher than he'd meant it to be, and the word wasn't the word that had been on his lips. There was an arm on his throat suddenly, his back pressed hard against the wall, Bee's eyes centimeters from him now instead of feet, breath on his cheek, the same sweet scent as Bee growled,

"You dare to call that thing better?"

"Th-thing?" Sam choked out, forgetting to struggle at the iron strength of the arm binding him. If the other Autobots thought that this would cripple Bumblebee at all, they were wrong. "You mean you?"

"My weakness," Bee snarled, low in Sam's ear, releasing the boy with a quick, sharp jerk, leaving him sputtering, slumped on the floor. He looked up at his former protector, fear writ across his face. Why wasn't this turning out like the movies? Good guy, bad guy who was the good guy's former partner in crime… The good guy always won, right? Always managed to turn the criminal back.

Except this virus was merciless.

It twisted Bee's psyche, it tore through him, changed him in merely three days, and now… It wasn't looking back. Not the barest glance over its shoulder. There was no chance of ever getting Bee back… Sam was beginning to see, to his chagrin. He was going to lose Bee, whether he liked it or not…

"What's wrong, Sam?" Bee asked laughingly, his green eyes dancing in cruel mirth. "Missing your "Bee"?"

Sam glanced away, biting down on his lower lip. It would be best not to lie. He'd seen Bee's reactions to his attempted lies.

"A bit."

"'A bit'," Bumblebee mocked immediately, throwing up his hands, no more than flashing, pale shadows in the darkness. "You're fucking pining, Samuel."

"Stop calling me that!" Sam snapped, glaring at the shadow among shadows. "Sam."

"Like I said." The Autobot shrugged. "Nicknames are useless to me."

But Samuel, Samuel, it hurt, like it wasn't his name, never had been, like it was a misnomer forced upon him, like it was a steel cage he'd stumbled into and had never found his way out of. "God, Bee…" he forced out, half-glaring at the Autobot. "Why you….?"

"Why me?" Bee snapped. "Don't get sentimental on me, human. This is all your fault and you know it."

The biting acidity in his words made the human stumble back a step. It was his fault. The Decepticons, who was it…. Soundwave? Shockwave? Someone… had aimed at him, had been trying to infect him with an organic virus, and yet… Bee… He could remember Bee, suddenly there, and the small explosion on his side, marring perfect yellow door panels.

Then the memories flashed, like some horror movie with bad cameras, to the three days after that, as the entire Autobot team watched the virus eat Bumblebee from the inside out, destroying him as it went, sweeping through his body. Sam hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, and as he finally watched Bee's optics open, he saw that they were red, deep, deep red, and the first thing the Autobot had done was to swing at Sam and send him tumbling off the berth; if Ratchet hadn't been there, he would have died…
Maybe that would have been better in the end, really.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt so badly now.

"Yeah, I do," he said quietly, looking up. "I know."

A snort came from the mock-human as he threw himself onto the spare bed (white, white, white). "You humans are all so stupid."

Looking away, Sam remained silent, jaw and fists clenched. "Why did you ask for me?" he hissed. "You don't want me here." He could remember the small message, sent directly to his door. God only knew how Bee had gotten it out under the Autobots' careful watch. "Come see me."

"Don't tell me what I do and don't want," Bee snarled back. "I am sick of everyone telling me what to do, what to think!"

Brown eyes flashed. "There's nothing else we can do!"

"Fix me!" Bumblebee screamed in a voice that was suddenly so horribly shrill, the green eyes blinking as the sound of a body crashing down thudded through the room; Sam dove around the bed as best he could, feeling his way to the fallen Autobot.

"Bee?" His voice was hesitant, soft. "Bee….?"

Then, oh god, then…. "Sam…?" was the response, slow and broken. Sam leapt for Bee, cradling the warm body to his chest, tears escaping barely-closed eyes. This was Bee. Not the virus-ridden creature he had become, but Bee.

He was speaking Bee's name, over and over, wondering if this was really him… The arms that secured around his back assured him that it was. "How…? The virus…?"

"Temporary lapse," Bumblebee gasped back. "I'll be gone soon, Sam, you need to listen."

"No," Sam growled. "No, it won't…. I won't let it keep tak-"

"Shut up," Bee growled with the force of his counterpart, and Sam froze atop him. "Listen to me. The virus- it's getting worse. There's not going to be any stopping it soon. It won't observe locked doors or weapons anymore, Sam, it won't stop until it destroys this place and everyone in it."

Sam was already shaking his head, fear flashing through his eyes. "No. No, if this is what you…. No, I won't."

And then the three immortal words, strung together: "Kill me, Sam."

"NO!" Sam shoved himself away from Bumblebee and scrabbled for the light; a hand was on his before he was even halfway there, Bee's voice dry.

"You don't want to see it, believe me." The hand over his was cold, and thin. Sam grasped it, turning back to Bee, the horror still splashed over his face.

"I am not killing you, Bee. No. Out of the question."

"Then tell someone else to do it," the Autobot said softly. "I cannot continue to operate like that. I will-" He broke off, coughing, clutching his chest. "Sam, my block is collapsing. Go, now, and get someone to terminate my spark. Ratchet will do it most efficien-"

Sam snarled again, but it was a hopeless snarl, a weak one. "Bee, please don't make me do this…."

"You have to," the Autobot insisted. "Please. You're the only one I can trust, Sam, p-lease…" His voice broke and he choked again. "You have to."

Sam gritted his teeth. "No, Bee…" God, he couldn't. He couldn't kill his best friend. No, anything but that…

"Sam." Bee smiled and brought his hands to cup Sam's cheeks, green melting into brown. He raised his head with all the regality of a sentient being and pressed his lips to Sam's forehead. "Go." The eyes flashed and began to brighten, glowing eerily again. "Now. Now," he insisted as rage tore through him again, the same unexplainable rage.

The teenager threw himself to his feet, diving for the door even as eerie green glow lit the door ahead of him and he slammed it open, turning and twisting his hand against the wall; weight slammed into the other side, the growl forming into a full-fledged snarl. Sam leant against the cold wooden door, forehead to it, and listen to Bumblebee pant on the other side, his low hisses plainly audible.

Kill me.

-
End of chapter one.
See you again-

Ah, I reappear again. Aren't I fantastic? .

So yes, here I am, here I shall remain. I think.

For my personal notes- next chapter involves the Autobots, and for clarification as expressed by a few people- Sam was not allowed to be there. Dedications to SilverGullWings for betaing and Trish, for becoming my recently drafted Transformers minion.