Bumblebee sat huddled in the furthest corner of his private room, his arms drawing his legs up close to his chest. His forehead was pressed against his knee, his face hidden in the protective cradle his body formed.
Footsteps, their heavy, metallic clangs on the Autobot Headquarters outside corridor's deck plating clearly announcing them of Cybertronian origin, made Bumblebee look up in alarm. His optics were round and his chin trembling as he tightened his arms around himself. Only because of how he braced against himself and the wall that his entire body wasn't shivering like a leaf in the wind. The possessor of the footsteps, however, seemed to be uninterested in his quarters, for he merely walked past without a pause or hesitation. Though inwardly relieved, Bumblebee did not relax his body except for lowering his head back down.
Never in his life, a somewhat short one by Autobot standards, was he was incapacitated by fear. He was one of the bravest of the Autobots, his courage easily making up for his lack in size and strength, but now someone, someone he thought so highly of, trusted so much, had done the unthinkable to him, and turned him into this.
He flinched as unbidden memories took advantage of him and began to play, and in his present mental state, he could do nothing but let them.
Pressing on his mouth... a blow to his head... repeated now... pain, not entirely physical... suppression... a growl, a death threat...
A silent warning flashed red across his field of vision, but to him it was irrelevant at the moment. He squeezed his optics shut, his jaw clenched as he fought to regain control of his own mind, but the images fought back mockingly, making him relive the last experience over and over again. A desperate cry escaped him as he clutched his body to the virtual breaking point. A thought rose from the horrors.
Who would believe him?