MY BABY BUMBLEBEE

Prime Time and Bed Time

This was one of Bee's favorite times of day. Everyone was gathered in the rec room, and the sounds of laughter and discussion brought the bitlit joy. In the evenings almost all his favorite people were in one place. Mirage, Jazz, Ironhide and Hound would play cards at the square table, Blurr would sit on the couch with Cliffjumper and watch the vid screen, and Prowl and Ratchet would sit studiously in the corner, catching up on paperwork, lightly chatting and sipping high grade. The twins would play with him on the rug where they would color or play a board game. Sometimes they would run around, making up rules as they went, at least until an adult told them to quiet down. Jokes would be told and stories swapped. And above it all, Optimus would sit in the big recliner, quiet with a datapad in hand, enjoying the company. It was a time of relaxation, and bonding. And as the evenings wore on, and the bitlit became drowsy, he would crawl into the prime's lap, and Optimus would read a story. At the sound of his gentle baritone voice, everyone quieted. It was an unconscious thing, cards would still shuffle, and glasses would clink, but everyone loved to hear Optimus's stories. Even the rambunctious Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would sit still on the floor, pointedly ignoring him, claiming to be too old for bitlit stories, but still hanging on every word. and Bumblebee would snuggle up to prime's chest plates, relaxing to the beat of a big steady spark. That was where the bitlit was now, seated in primes lap, a thermal blanket in his relaxed grip, gently sucking on his other servo.

"In the beginning, there was Cybertron, warm and soft and alive," Optimus spoke, and Bee could feel his deep voice rumble through his frame. The rec room began to quiet down, and the lights seemed to fade. All audials were tuned in on the prime in the center of the room.

"And then from the soft surface rose a single spark, the first spark, the allspark. And around that spark, the very metal of the planet formed a frame. And up from the earth rose Primus, the first cybertronian." little Bee leaned back further into the prime, letting his small frame go limp in optimus's lap. Prime scrolled down.

"For a time uncounted, Primus found himself alone on the new planet, which still radiated the warmth of its creation. He wandered its surface, and became familiar with its every aspect." The pace of Bee's sucking slowed as prime continued. "Then all at once, prime felt a great stirring in the loneliness of his single spark, and overcome with emotion, he split his chest plates, and four other sparks shot fourth, and embedded themselves in the ground. And from the seeds of those sparks formed the guiding hand." Bumblebee Felt his optic shutters droop as his vision became fuzzy and recharge tugged at his small frame. Helplessly, bumblebee succumb to sleep's siren call as Optimus continued. "And together the guiding hand seeded the surface of the planet, and fields of sparks glowed with the promise of new life. As the planet turned, its eternal light heating its surface, those sparks grew frames, and those countless bots became the first generation of cybertronians. And they lived and loved and learned, developing language, and culture, and science. They built the great cities of Iocon, and Kaon, and Praxis, and the Cloud city. They expanded over the land, tires and treads rolling endlessly towards the horizon. They took to the skies, wings spread and turbines roaring. They expanded to the great oceans of oil, skimming along its surface, and gliding through its depths. And thus it is how we began."

Optimus looked down at the bitlit, fast asleep in his lap, with an expression of utter fondness. He was a constant reminder of what was truly important. Life, and the opportunity to live it. He then looked at the two older children. They too were passed out on the floor. He smiled at them also. It would not be long until they were fully grown, but for now they were still young. Still allowed to play and laugh and learn. If only for a little longer. He hoped, somewhere deep down in his spark, that they would somehow get longer to bee children.

Slowly, quiet movement returned to the room. Optimus cradled bumblebee close, savering the warmth of the tiny frame against his. On the floor, Sunstreaker twitched in his sleep. Recharge had claimed the young ones swiftly and completely. And they weren't the only ones. Blurr snored softly from where he sat slumped over on the couch. Optimus chuckled at the sight. He magnetized bumblebee to his chest, keeping the slumbering bitlit firmly in place as he gently scooped up a twin in each arm. Sideswipe's helm rested on his right shoulder pauldron, Sunstreaker's on his left, and Bee snuggled between them. As he stood up, he felt a soft groan in a hip joint.

"Come on, berth time," he said to no one in particular. He spared another glance at blurr, who had begun to mutter and twitch. Never still, even in sleep. Optimus stretched one arm around all three of the bitlits, careful not to wake them, and briefly used the other to lay a thermal blanket over the sleeping speedster. He quickly re adjusted his grip, and then walked out of the rec room. Soft mutters of "goodnight sir, see you tomorrow Optimus, have a nice recharge," echoed across the crew. It would not be long until they headed off to their own berths as well.

Optimus strode through the empty hallways. The lights were all in power saving mode, leaving them dim. The path was swathed in gentle shadows, and Optimus gently hummed a wordless toon, pondering the story he had red. It was one of thousands of differing creation stories, all centered around the mythic figures of the guiding hand. Optimus was not a religious bot by any stretch, but the story reminded him of a time before the matrix. Back when he had been merely Orion pax, the data clerk. Sometimes, especially as the war dragged on, and peace stretched further and further out of reach, he longed to return to those days. A wave of nostalgia washed over his spark as he entered the room Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared. He left the light off, and the glow from the hallway cast long shadows into the depths of the small space. Two small berths sat in opposing corners, and evidence of the twins habitation lay strewn about. Old toys, battered and bruised scattered the floor, data pads covered in scribbled and doodles were strewn on the desk where two small chairs sat. A pile of learning packets sat neatly stacked, and untouched on the corner. He tenderly set each twin in his berth, and gently tucked their blankets around their limp frames. For a brief moment, he wondered who had done is for them before, and if they even remembered. No matter, he decided. Optimus was just thankful that he was here to do it now. That he could make this world better, at least for these small mechlings. He was thankful for whatever powers that be that brought them into their fold, and hoped that it would be enough for them. He silently strode out of the room, letting the door slide shut softly behind him. Bumblebee stirred as if about to wake.

"Shhhhhh, easy now little one, go back to sleep." Optimus murmured, softly stroking his hand over a yellow helm. The small bitlit stilled, venting a in a deep and steady rhythm, keeping time with the pulsing of optimus's spark. Optimus let his frame gently sway in time with his soft ped falls. There were so many like Bee, and so many less fortunate than him. War truly was an evil thing. And sooner or later it would present its ugly head once again. But for now, Optimus could hold a sleeping bitlit in his arms, think about the past, and hope for the future.