Summary: The normal days are the ones you have to fear the most. It started off "normal" for the Autobots, until Prowl lost his temper with Bumblebee. It wouldn't have been that bad, that is, if Optimus didn't scold him hours earlier, Ratchet didn't reprimand him yesterday, and Bulkhead didn't ignore him for two days. Bumblebee's past and self-loathing causes him to run away in the dead of night, leaving the team on a desperate search to find him. Will they find him in time or will their worst fears be confirmed?
A/N: I've really wanted to do this plotline, despite the fact that it's extremely overused. Still, I want to make my own version of a "classic" while incorporating the "Bumblebee's Past" enigma into it. Unlike most "Prowl Loses His Temper" fics, this is not a BeexProwl romance story. I don't have a problem with the pairing; I'm just not the type to ship their romance. Anyway, the way the story is set up is new to me. Pretty much all of it is Bee's memory until the counter counts down to 00:00:00. You'll see what I mean next chapter. Well, enjoy!
00:12:34 AM; Colorado
The night was quiet, calm. The breeze lazily caught the grass within its gentle grip, each blade swaying with its own rhythm. Clouds rolled through the sky, occasionally casting shadows down on the Earth below. The moon was full, providing whatever light it could to the nocturnal animals awake from the day's slumber. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance as crickets chirped their song. Within the field, spots of light decorated the scenery, fireflies calling out to a mate through beautiful, eye-pleasing sights. All in all, it was the perfect summer's night.
Suddenly, a yellow blur sped down the road to the side of the field. The sound of an engine cut through the peaceful atmosphere, stirring up nearby plants into a wild frenzy of movements. It sped onwards, not caring for the beauty or stopping to take it in. This driver was in it for the destination, not the journey. The problem was that there was no destination in mind.
Bumblebee must have broken at least twenty driving laws, but in all honesty, he could care less. There was far too much on his processor for him to obey the speed limit. The yellow sub-compact veered right, turning on two wheels due to the abrupt maneuver. The field scenery gave way to a forest thick with pine trees and other conifers.
Everything had started so well, only to go downhill by early evening yesterday. Then again, maybe if he wasn't such a glitch, none of this would have happened.
The scout floored the gas, not at all paying attention to the fact that he was on an incline, ascending a mountain at dangerous speeds. He was too busy thinking to notice his position.
He had been driving for over 20 hours straight, now somewhere in Colorado. Despite being less than a day, Bumblebee couldn't help but feel that his time alone was for an eternity. He missed his team and
Sari, but it was too late to go back now. Nobody wanted him around, so nobody would miss him...right?
"Of course," Bumblebee scoffed to himself, "why would they want someone like me around? Maybe Wasp was right back in Boot Camp; nobody wants to be around me." Too busy with his self-loathing, Bumblebee never noticed the "Slow Down" sign on the mountainside he was currently driving up. He never noticed how sharp a turn he had to make.
So when that hairpin turn came up, the yellow police car had too much speed and not enough maneuverability. Tires screeched against asphalt as he tried desperately to make the turn, but to no avail.
Bumblebee crashed into the guardrail and fell over the edge. Quickly, he transformed out of his alt.-mode, trying desperately to stop his decent by stretching his limbs out to give him more surface area. It did little to help, for he was falling too fast and the height was too great. He hadn't even realized he made it that far up the mountain.
A sudden pain in his side brought him back to reality. He violently hit branch after branch, sap and needles clinging to his armor as he fell. After what felt like hours of endless torture, Bumblebee fell to the ground. Shuttering his optics, he tried to take in his damage.
His right shoulder was dislocated and his front wheels were blown out; any hope he had of transforming vanished. His left servo was twisted awkwardly, preventing him from moving it without immense pain. One optic was cracked while the other was completely shattered, leaking energon down his faceplate and onto the forest ground below. What frightened him most was his chassis.
He had landed back to the sky, leaving his chassis vulnerable to whatever he landed on below. It was only bad luck that allowed his chassis to be impaled by a particularly large, pointy rock sitting innocently within the forest. It was pure bad luck that had it re-open an old scar, the place where Sari had stabbed him.
Bumblebee could feel the energon trickle out of his exposed systems. Even without proper medical training, he knew enough to stay put. If he tried to move, the rock would either open the wound further or cut into his main energon line only inches below the entry point. If he wanted to live, he'd have to wait for help from his friends.
But how would they find him, in the middle of the Colorado Rockies, if they were all safe and sound back in Detroit and would they even care enough to come over two thousand kilometers away from home to rescue him? Did they even care enough to try?
Oil tears fell from Bumblebee's working optic as he thought about his friends. That emotional scarring had only happened yesterday, so why did it hurt so much?
"Because it's all true..." Bumblebee whispered to himself, raising his helm as best as he could to the stars above. Something in his spark knew he was going to die here, alone. With the company of the stars, Bumblebee thought of how it had all gone so wrong and his regret for not fixing any of it.
No time to go back now, there was only time for repentant and loathing. As the stars shimmered above his helm, Bumblebee was whisked back into his most recent, most agonizing memories of his team. At least under the cover of darkness, no one would come by to disturb him. So off he went, into the depths of his processor, struggling to grasp a hold of his consciousness as his recollections overcame his grief.