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The first human the Autobots ever rescued was three feet tall, covered in grease, and attempting to bite Bumblebee.
This was not, strictly speaking, the most unusual thing Bumblebee had ever experienced.
It was, however, the first time he'd been bitten by something that small.
He jerked his hand away.
The creature hissed.
Bumblebee froze…The creature froze too.
For several seconds, they stared at each other. Then, the human bit him again.
"Ow!" Bumblebee's startled vocalization echoed through the corridor and several Autobots turned to stare at him.
Optimus himself looked up from the datapad he had been studying. "What happened?"
"I don't know!"
Bumblebee held up his hand, showing new teeth marks in his metal.
Ratchet sighed. "You were bitten."
"I noticed."
"By what?"
Bumblebee pointed.
The human was still there. It had backed itself into the corner beneath a maintenance console, knees drawn to its chest, one hand wrapped around a broken piece of metal.
It was filthy. Its clothes were torn. There was dried blood on one cheek and its hair was sticking up in several directions.
It looked, Bumblebee thought, absolutely furious.
Ratchet crouched.
The human immediately raised its weapon.
"Nobody move."
Ratchet stopped.
The human's eyes darted from face to face. It was shaking, but still didn’t lower the metal.
Bumblebee's optics dimmed. "Oh."
Optimus stepped forward and the human's weapon swiveled to point at him. Optimus stopped.
The little creature was so frightened that its entire body trembled with the effort to stay alert, yet it was still trying to protect itself.
Optimus lowered his hands. "We will not hurt you."
The human stared.
Of course it did, it couldn't understand him.
None of them had thought about that.
Bumblebee looked at Ratchet.
Ratchet looked at Optimus.
Optimus looked at the human.
The human looked at all three of them.
Then, it said something. A string of rapid noises, high pitched and repetitive. Yearning even, in their desperation to be understood.
Bumblebee tilted his head. "That sounded angry."
"It probably is angry," Ratchet said.
"It could have been asking for help."
"It could have been threatening us."
The human made the sound again. Louder this time.
Bumblebee pointed. "That one sounded threatening."
Ratchet sighed, "Your linguistic analysis is invaluable."
The human suddenly threw the piece of metal.
Everyone flinched and it bounced harmlessly off Bumblebee's chest.
Then the human collapsed, Optimus catching it before it hit the floor. The little body fit neatly into one hand. He stared down at it in a contemplative silence.
"That," Ratchet said quietly, "is a child."
No one answered, they had all thought the same thing.
The Autobots had never seen a human child before. They had no idea how small they were supposed to be. Was this one even healthy? Would it die?
The first problem was determining whether the human was injured.
The second was determining what constituted an injury.
The third was determining why the child kept attempting to escape.
The fourth was Bumblebee.
"You can't keep following him."
"I'm not following him."
"You are standing directly behind him."
"I'm making sure he doesn't fall."
"He's walking."
"Exactly."
Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose.
The child had been awake now for three hours.
During those three hours, it had:
- refused medical treatment
- refused energon
- refused water
- attempted to crawl into an air vent
- stolen a screwdriver
- bitten Bumblebee twice more
- screamed when Ratchet tried to scan it
- and somehow climbed onto a storage shelf thirty feet above the floor
The last incident had caused everyone considerable distress. The child, meanwhile, seemed entirely unimpressed.
It sat on the shelf with its arms crossed.
Bumblebee stood beneath it. "Come down."
The child glared.
"Please?"
Nothing.
"I won't touch you."
Nothing.
"I'll even look away."
The child's expression became suspicious.
Bumblebee turned around.
There was silence.
Then, a tiny pair of feet appeared beside his shoulder. Bumblebee looked down, the child was standing on his arm. It had apparently decided that this was close enough to the ground.
"You're ridiculous."
The child stared at him.
Bumblebee smiled.
It took a moment, but the child smiled back. Only slightly. But it did.
Bumblebee's engine gave an involuntary little chirp.
The child's eyes widened and it pointed excitedly.
Bumblebee chirped again.
The child laughed.
Every Autobot in the room went still.
The sound was tiny, bright. And completely unexpected.
Bumblebee stared at the child.
The child stared back. "Bee."
Bumblebee's optics widened. "What?"
The child pointed at him, "Bee."
Bumblebee looked at Optimus.
Optimus looked back.
Ratchet slowly lowered his scanner. "Apparently you've been named."
Bumblebee looked offended. "I have a name."
"Not according to the child."
The child patted his armor. "Bee."
Bumblebee's engine hummed. "Okay." He looked at Ratchet. "I like it."
They eventually discovered where the child came from a few weeks later. Not because it told them- no. That would be too simple.
Instead, it stole Bumblebee's comm device after hearing the first intelligible transmission they captured on it.
It was distinctly human. Distorted, but recognizable after so long with the child. And definitely frantic.
"-repeat, if anyone can hear me, please respond." The child froze and the voice continued. "We've lost contact with the evacuation team. There are still civilians trapped in Sector Seven. If anyone is receiving this, please-"
The child made a sound. Bumblebee looked down to find it crying.
"Mom," the child whispered.
Bumblebee's spark hurt. He crouched, letting the child grab the radio.
"Mom!"
Static. No response.
"Mom!" The child screamed it this time.
The transmission continued, cutting out every few seconds.
The child stared at the radio. "Mom?"
Bumblebee didn't know what to say. He had learned enough English to understand the word. He also understood the silence afterwards.
The child looked up at him. "Where's my mom?"
Bumblebee couldn't answer. So he did the only thing he could think of instead.
He held out his hand.
The child stared, then climbed onto it.
They found the evacuation zone six hours later.
There were no survivors.
The child did not understand.
It kept searching. Calling for its mother, crawling through wreckage. It checked every body it found, hands clawing at debris until blood dripped from the torn skin. As the child’s nails grew mangled and dirtied, Bumblebee tried his best to lend a servo where he could, but truly at his size he was more of a hindrance than help as the child dug into small spaces and nudged aside precarious piles of stone.
Optimus watched from a distance.
Ratchet eventually tried to stop the child.
The child fought him. "No!" It pushed past him, "Mom!" The word echoed through the ruined street.
Nothing answered.
The child stopped. Looked around one last time. Then sat down.
It stared at the ground.
Bumblebee approached slowly.
The child didn't look up.
He lowered one hand.
The child climbed onto it without being asked.
Bumblebee lifted him towards his spark chamber. It deserves to be comforted after that. The child curled into a ball against his palm.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Then, slowly, the child asked, "Why didn't she come?"
Bumblebee looked toward Optimus. Optimus looked away.
There were answers, but none of them were good enough.
Bumblebee had fought wars. He had watched friends die and carried their bodies from the battlefield himself. He knew grief.
But this was different. This child was too young to learn how to grieve already. All it understood was that it kept waiting for a mom who never came.
Bumblebee carefully curled his fingers around the child. Not enough to trap him, just enough to make a shelter.
"I don't know," he said.
The child pressed its face against his palm. "I want my mom."
Bumblebee's voice cracked through the translator, "I know."
"I want to go home."
Bumblebee closed his optics, "I know."
"Where is home?"
That one broke something.
Bumblebee didn't answer immediately. But finally, "I don't know."
The child shuddered slightly against him.
Bumblebee forced himself to continue. "But..." He shifted his hand. "You can stay with me until we find out."
The child stared at him. "You promise?"
Bumblebee thought about promises.
Cybertronians did not make promises lightly, they had learned the hard way what promises cost.
But this was a human child.
A tiny, stubborn, terrified thing who had bitten him four times.
Bumblebee smiled. "I promise."
The child nodded and drifted off to sleep.
Three weeks later, the Autobots discovered that human children were apparently not supposed to sleep on top of vehicles.
This was unfortunate to hear because the child had already discovered Bumblebee's roof. And he liked it there.
The warmth of the engine, the freedom of the view. Even just the mundaneness of lying flat on his back to watch the stars.
He also liked stealing Ratchet's tools.
Ratchet, of course, did not like this.
"You cannot keep giving him things."
"I didn't give him that."
"You left it unattended."
"That's different."
"That is exactly the same."
Bumblebee looked toward the doorway.
The child was wearing a pair of oversized headphones and was sitting on the floor. There was a screwdriver in his hand.
Ratchet stared.
The child smiled.
"Give it back."
The child shook his head.
"Give it back."
"No."
Bumblebee covered his mouth.
Ratchet glared. "Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were going to."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
The child giggled.
Ratchet's expression softened despite himself. "Traitor."
The child grinned.
They learned his name eventually.
His mother had called him Daniel. He told the Autobots to call him Danny.
It was easier that way.
Danny taught them human things.
Humans slept for an absurd amount of time. Humans required food at regular intervals. Humans became irrational when hungry. Humans apparently believed that blankets had healing properties. Humans liked being carried.
Danny especially liked being carried.
He liked sitting on Optimus's shoulder.
He liked sleeping in Bumblebee's passenger seat.
He liked curling up in Ratchet's lap when he was sick.
He also liked asking questions.
Endless questions.
"Why are your eyes blue?"
"Because that's my optic color."
"Why?"
"Genetics."
"What are genetics?"
"That's complicated."
"Why?"
"It just is."
"Why?"
Ratchet sighed. Bumblebee laughed. Optimus looked profoundly entertained.
And slowly, almost without anyone noticing, Danny stopped asking when he could go home.
He started asking when they were leaving, where they were going, and whether he could come.
Those questions always got an answer.
It happened on a Tuesday while Danny was asleep.
The Autobots were in the middle of a briefing when the human military found them.
The attack was fast.
Too fast.
Missiles struck the ridge.
Everyone started moving.
Optimus transformed, Ratchet grabbed his medical equipment, and Bumblebee turned toward the cave where Danny was sleeping.
Then, he heard the explosion and ran. He was almost halfway there when the second blast hit, collapsing the cave entrance.
Bumblebee stopped. His spark went cold.
"No."
He tore through the rubble.
"Daniel!"
Nothing.
"Daniel!"
Optimus reached him. "Bumblebee."
"Move!"
"Bumblebee—"
"Move!"
He shoved rocks aside with shaky servos.
"Daniel!"
A tiny sound came from beneath the rubble.
A cough.
Bumblebee froze.
"Daniel?"
Another cough.
Then, "Bee?"
Bumblebee almost collapsed.
"I'm here."
He dug faster.
"Bee?"
"I'm here."
A small hand appeared.
Bumblebee carefully cleared the rest of the rubble.
Danny was curled beneath a slab of stone. Blood dripped steadily from a cut above his eyebrow, but he was conscious. Barely.
Bumblebee reached for him.
Danny grabbed one finger.
"Found you."
Bumblebee carefully lifted him.
Something inside him went very quiet. The battle outside continued but Bumblebee heard none of it.
He held Danny against his chest.
The child looked up. "Are you mad?"
"No."
"You look mad."
"I'm scared."
Danny blinked. "You get scared?"
Bumblebee laughed once. It sounded strange. "All the time."
Danny thought about this. Then he reached up, his tiny hand touched Bumblebee's cheek. "Don't be."
Bumblebee closed his optics. "I'll try."
Danny nodded. "Okay."
Then he fell asleep.
Later, after the battle was over, Ratchet examined Danny.
The injuries weren’t severe.
A concussion.
Several bruises.
A broken arm.
He would recover.
Bumblebee sat beside the berth.
He hadn't moved.
Ratchet looked at him. "He's going to be fine."
"I know."
"You've been told that three times."
"I know."
"You can leave."
"No."
Ratchet sighed.
Then sat beside him.
For a while, they watched Danny sleep.
"He trusts you," Ratchet said.
Bumblebee looked down. "I know."
"That's a lot of responsibility."
"I know."
Ratchet was uncharacteristically hesitant voicing his next words. "You know, you don't have to be his mother."
Bumblebee's head snapped toward him. "I wasn't planning to be."
"Good."
"I was planning to be his dad."
Ratchet stared.
Bumblebee stared back.
Ratchet burst into laughter, his gruff voice rumbling over them.
Bumblebee looked offended. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You laughed."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because you're an idiot."
Bumblebee smiled. "Yeah." He looked down at Danny. "But he's mine."
Ratchet's smile faded.
There was something almost peaceful about Danny’s presence on their ship. He wasn’t something to be owned anymore.
He chose to stay with them, so now they were choosing him back.
The child had lost his home.
Bumblebee had lost his world.
Neither of them could give the other back what they had lost. But they could sit beside each other anyway.
And that was enough.
Months later, Danny learned to transform.
Not really.
He couldn't transform.
But he could climb into Bumblebee's vehicle mode and buckle himself into the passenger seat.
He had learned how to yell directions.
He had learned that Bumblebee would deliberately take the scenic route if Danny asked nicely.
He had learned that Ratchet kept emergency candy in the medical bay.
He had learned that Optimus pretended not to notice when Danny fell asleep on his shoulder during briefings.
He had learned that Cybertronian children were called sparklings.
He had asked if humans had a word like that.
Optimus had considered it. "No," he said. “I think ‘child’ or ‘baby’ would be the closest, but neither quite grasp the emotion sparkling invoke in us.”
Danny thought about it. "Can I be a sparkling anyway?"
Bumblebee nearly drove off the road.
Optimus's optics softened. "I believe," he said, "that you may be whatever you choose."
Danny smiled. "Then I'm a human sparkling."
"That is not a thing."
"It is now."
Bumblebee laughed.
Optimus shook his head. "Very well."
Danny settled against Bumblebee's seat.
A few minutes later, he was asleep.
Bumblebee drove on.
Optimus followed.
Ratchet followed them.
One by one, the others fell into formation.
A convoy crossing a world that wasn't theirs. A family that hadn't meant to become one. A human child who had lost his first home. And a group of aliens who had once believed that humans were fragile creatures who required constant protection.
They were beginning to understand something different.
Danny had survived and chosen to learn how to love even after everything. And what could that be called but strength?